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Nice little bottle before week's cataclysm, and a good counterpoint to "The Decision Tree" -- including, fittingly, way fewer Rashomon moments -- as Alicia reviews the circumstances of her hiring at Lockhart/Gardner, way back before the show started, to explain what it is to opt back in.
Concentrated mostly on the variable amount of conscious and unconscious factors in play when she first went looking for work after Peter's scandal, the hour follows Alicia (and, minimally, Will) through their confused and poignant memories of the time. A fresh-faced Alicia, and crushed-out Will, are brought into alignment with the harder, more experienced versions of today. And in the end, a dry and somewhat nasty conversation between their two diner tables brings about yet another attempt at a gentleman's truce.
What Alicia doesn't know, however, is that Will's engaged in a much larger game: The voter-fraud investigation, which this week involves Elsbeth Tascioni going head-to-head with Nelson Dubeck all over the NYC hotel everybody's staying at. While she manages to destroy his faith in the smoking gun video from Marilyn that he's been showing everybody, he comes back twice as hard by sending dumb old Jim Moody in to have a fake conversation that, even in silent security footage format, makes Will look like an active conspirator.
Cary and Hayden spend the episode ham-fistedly trying to leverage Alicia's feminist narrative to attract Jill Hennessey's rainmaker lawyer, Rayna Hecht, to their new firm. She likes the boys, she loves Alicia, but between their vulgar displays and Elsbeth's magical fairy powers, in the end she decides to ditch both LG and F/A and start her own two-woman firm with the ineffable Ms. Tascioni herself. Who wouldn't?
(Diane. Diane is who wouldn't. As beautiful as Will's -- and even Kalinda's! -- adoration of the elf queen is, and Diane is not immune by any means, it's not enough to sway Diane from her suspicion of Elsbeth's innate weirdness. They're here for rainmakers and schmoozing, not the care and feeding of magical creatures.)
And so we return for week's giant disaster with a smidge of plot development, some great history between Will and Alicia, and even a subtle shift in the future of the two firms' relationship. It's always nice to see Margulies flip between the many versions of Alicia over the years -- and extra points for a shockingly cruel mental version of Jackie Florrick, who's apparently been calling Alicia a whore from inside this whole time -- and even nicer to see how starstruck Will was by his greatest betrayer, and how close that version of himself remains to the surface even after all this drama.
What did you think of this little trip into Alicia's head? For a show kind of defined by her circumspection and stillness, on letting her faces and behavior inform our opinions and understanding of her, it was a little less explosive and harrowing than it might have been. One wonders what an episode like this would have felt like four years ago, before she'd integrated so much of her shadow stuff: I think it would have been a lot darker and uglier, actually. So score one for Florrick on that count, at least.
Watching her grow into herself, equal to the world, has always been a chief pleasure (and sadness) of the show, so it seems fitting to look back now, before everything changes again. Which it will, because that's how life and the show work, but also because this year we have the multiples-of-fives to contend with plus week is the traditional act change for the season. So, lots of drama we still don't have much information on. I'm just glad Alicia had some time to, and with, herself before whatever happens .
Want more? The full recap starts right below!PREVIOUSLY
Alicia Florrick's husband cheated on her with Illinois money and went to jail, so she had to find a job. Four years later, she struck out from that firm to start her own, and now she's been asked to give the keynote speech at an American Bar Association conference.
NYC
Alicia pacing the floor while Cary reads her speech; she hangs on every nod and breath. The crinkling is very loud as she pulls an apple out of a gift basket, and finally she can't hold back anymore.
Alicia: "Why did you nod? What are you reading? What is happening in there?"
Cary: "Alicia, please don't make me the Alicia. Let me read and be cool."
Alicia: "It's too self-serving! You hate it! It's boring!"
Cary: "Fine. It is a little dry."
Alicia: "Cary, I spent two weeks!"
Cary: "Yeah, it shows. You should be less of an Alicia about this and more of a Will. Look, they didn't ask you about this because you're an expert on opt-out moms, they asked you because you were an opt-out mom. So opt your ass back in."
Clarke Hayden Clarke calls from a taxi, nearly defeated by the very loud taxi screen blaring De Blasio at him the entire time. Even Cary, who is infinitely patient with Hayden Clarke Hayden, cannot handle him right now. What gets through is that Rayna Hecht, the most powerful lawyeress in the world, is ready for a firm, and she's using this ABA thing to make her call.
Clarke: "Just tell her that we are growing, she is into futures. And gender parity. What I am into is mostly her $60M billing. Also because she's Jill Hennessey, who is awesome."
Cary: "Okay, I love you but whatever your situation is, it's driving me nuts so bye."
Alicia: "Back to me. Why am I having trouble with this speech? I don't ever have trouble doing things, and frankly I wish everything was a speech. I only get into trouble when I speak extemporaneously."
Cary: "That's the problem. You're being asked to tell your story, which is a thing you've spent the last five years assiduously ignoring. How many times does Matthew Ashbaugh have to come back from the dead to explain this to you?"
Alicia: "...Son of a bitch. Look."
Down in the lobby, who is courting Jill Hennessey is, of course, Will and Diane.
Rayna: "I like you guys, I do. And I will decide in 48 hours. I just want a partnership I can believe in. I'm leaving my current firm because they are sleazy..."
Will: "Are you talking about my suspension that time? Because I am a good guy now."
Rayna: "Great. Let me get my l'il ducks in a row and we'll talk."
Diane: "Look at you, big boys and girls, trolling for new partners."
Cary: "Yeah, just acting like a normal law firm? Like because we are one?"
Will: "Good luck with the keynote tomorrow, Alicia Florrick."
Alicia: "Are you being mean or nice?"
Will: "Exactly."
Cary: "Ugh, get him out of your head."
Alicia: "Bitch he ain't in my head. I'm just scared of my biography."
Rayna: "Hey guys, I can't hang out right now. Let's reschedule."
Cary: "She's gonna vet us, it's fine."
Diane: "She's gonna vet us, it's fine. Nobody's getting indicted currently."
Will: "Ummmm."
Diane: "What, Damien Doyle? That's my first guess. That guy is scary as..."
Will: "No, a thing you don't know about. Having to do with that DOJ man over there and his threats of conspiracy and grand jury indictments. Bye!"
Dubeck follows Will away from the elevator to the gift shop, where Will purposefully purchases some earplugs and purposefully sticks them in his ears and purposefully shoots Dubeck that rabid-animal look that some people tend to mistake for a cheeky grin.
Dubeck: "I can take my time, Mr. Gardner. I was on the Blagojevich case. We always knew that sooner or later the lawyers would talk. They want to talk, they need to talk. They know attorney-client privilege only gets them so far."
Will: "Did you not notice these earplugs in my ears?"
Dubeck: "But here's the thing -- not to repeat myself by saying what I say to every person on this show, and even sometimes say to my breakfast as I'm eating it -- which is that you are not safe from prosecution. Voter fraud is an ongoing conspiracy."
Will: "Do you remember that old joke about the banana in the ear? It's like that but in real life."
Dubeck: "If you're protecting the governor, you're just as guilty."
Will: "Homie, I assure you that is not what I am doing."
Still in the lobby, all manner of tricks and tracking shots, back to Cary mothering Alicia in this wonderful, adorable way that she can't even see because she's flipping out.
Cary: "I'll get Clarke to reschedule and..."
Alicia: "Yeah, and I'll get Robyn to look into her background..."
Cary: "No girl, you will go upstairs and work on your speech. This seems like productive time to you, because you are procrastinating. Think of yourself as the opposite of a drug addict right now. Your brain is going to use every possible excuse and normal behavior to not do this thing you need to do, and it's going to look like real life. So trust me when I say, that is not real. What real is your personal stories, the anecdotes you tell that will add up to an understanding of what your life means."
UPSTAIRS
Alicia sternly tells herself to just start, to "just write anything," and then writes the word "ANYTHING," which is Alicia Florrick's version of a very funny joke.
INTERVIEW #1
Wearing a buttoned collar and a baby-blue jacket, boring mom hair pulled back, Alicia futzed with her ring and waited to speak to the ironically named Lorainne Joy, a hiring partner at this first firm.
Joy: "Mrs. Alicia Florrick, how could I not bring you in for an interview? To stare at you like a monkey in a cage, if nothing else."
Alicia: "Can I just please have a job though?"
Joy: "First I want to concern-troll you about how awful and shameful and terrible your life is!"
Alicia: "Sounds like sympathy, smells like bullshit. Here's my résumé..."
Joy: "Who needs one of those? Just tell me about your life! When did you last practice?"
Alicia: "Technically thirteen years ago? But I like to consider myself a legal consultant for the State's Attorney..."
Joy: "Discussing cases at the dinner table while he was cheating on you? Yeah, I can see why you didn't put that on your résumé. But props for making it a good interview talking point."
Alicia: "Well, I don't know what computers are, so I'm leading with the positive."
Joy: "Here's the thing. Hobbyist goodwifery aside, you are out of practice and don't fit into any culture of any law firm ever. The only position we have open is starting associate, which..."
Alicia: "Which I am fine with."
Joy: "Yeah, we were hoping to fill it with somebody that doesn't have a hundred weird sad problems. A Cary Agos type, from the Ivy League, maybe."
Alicia: "Then why in the fuck am I here?"
Joy: "Everybody hates a rubberneck, but we still all slow down at accidents."
It's not procrastinating. Or rather, it's not just procrastinating. It's a decision tree, going backwards into the past, like following lightning up to the clouds. Not the ones she could make, but the ones she did. Sometimes -- not all the time, but a lot of the time -- without knowing she was making them.
More often, just without admitting it. Which is not the same thing. Which is why climbing this tree, you can almost feel Matthew Ashbaugh in the room, daring her to be brave enough to drown out the voices and feel the steely truth of her life, going all the way back. That's not what the speech demands, but it's what writing the speech is going to demand.
INTERVIEW #2
Same suit, this time in a lobby with two black men and four white ones, which normally wouldn't be something to mention but obviously here it is. The jacket has dowdy lines, but the skirt's knee-length. He greets her without looking up from her résumé:
Dude: "Alicia Florrick, when can you start?"
Alicia: "That is more like it."
On the elevator she's too innocent to even think about it. She jumps for joy.
A man's hand reaches out to hold an elevator door -- over and over again, the moment when her life would change -- and she's a little sad, to remember what happened .
REAL ESTATE
Off to find her own apartment, now that the job's locked down. When they call her entitled this is a small part of what they are talking about: Why think twice, when life has always been so good? Why on earth would you assume that this bad moment will be anything more than a brief blip?
Lady: "I'm showing you this early but I'm warning you, it's not in your range..."
Alicia: "I have a job now! A magical one out of nowhere!"
Lady: "But seriously, there's a three-bedroom on Fifth that's half this rent..."
Alicia: "No, hell with that. I want this. I deserve this."
SO INEVITABLY
Dude: "Oh, that job I offered you? Turns out it's a paralegal position."
Alicia: "I interviewed as an associate."
Dude: "More like an internship."
Alicia: "What the fuck is going on here?"
Dude: "Your last name is Florrick. The partners don't want you here as an associate. I just want to help by offering you this lame job I can give you."
She gets back on that elevator, in a white suit this time, and has a panic attack. After some hot shamed tears -- then, and now, remembering -- she calls the real estate lady, loathing herself as she begs to get out of the lease.
A man's hand reaches out to hold an elevator door, over and over again. The moment when her life would change, and go on changing.
DOWNSTAIRS
It's time for a seminar on approaching litigation. Diane and Will sit in the back.
Diane: "Who was that man by the elevator you thought I didn't see? And don't bother lying, we don't lie to each other. We trust each other."
Will: "Fair enough. That was Nelson Dubeck, Office of Public Integrity. They're pursuing a case against the Governor."
Diane: "That stupid ballot box? Why just you, not me?"
Will: "There's quite a smoking gun, a surveillance tape. Which I brought to Peter's door."
Diane: "Jesus, Will."
The scheduled speaker can't make it, because of a hurricane somewhere, so instead Elsbeth Tascioni will be explaining her approach to litigation. Which is... Yeah.
"I want everybody to close their eyes and picture a pillow -- a big pillow, the size of this room -- and you're lying in the middle of it. Now, take off your shoes..."
Diane catches Will adoring Elsbeth, out of the corner of her eye, and is just like, "Will Gardner. Stop that right now. We are not fucking hiring that Manic Pixie Dream Girl. I like her too, but I cannot stand her ways and I won't have her at the firm. I already gave you Damien Doyle, who is a different kind of cartoon character that I actually understand, but this fairy queen thing I will not do. I won't have it." And Will just like, giggles, and starts taking off his shoes.
KEYNOTE
Hotelier: "So have you ever seen a speech? It'll be like that. Is there anything you need?"
Alicia: "...A speech?"
Hotelier: "Lady I don't have time for humor. I mean like bottled water."
Cary: "Alicia! No pressure but you have to nail this speech."
Alicia: "I know, right?"
Cary: "No, I mean because Clarke's on the phone saying that this speech is actually an interview. Rayna Hecht is going to be here watching and judging you, because of women."
Alicia: "The last time a quote-unquote feminist paid this much attention to my shit, it was Maddie Hayward. That did not go well."
Cary: "I'm sure this'll go fine. Just be completely perfect and composed, sympathetic but with no weaknesses or vulnerabilities but also be soft and vulnerable, and don't talk too loud, and don't talk too soft. Keep your back straight but also be wearing heels. Don't pay attention to the people in the audience, but anticipate their needs anyway. Make them love you, but also fear you. Make them think you are stronger or wiser than them, or have something they want, but also they cannot think you are better than them. Make them want to fuck you, but not hate you for wanting to fuck you. Be solicitous without being obsequious. Be confident but not arrogant. Be loud but soft. Be soft but hard. Be fifty but also twenty. Can you do that?"
Alicia: "Every fucking day, babe."
And that man's hand reaches out to hold the elevator door.
GOOD TIMING
It was the blue suit, the first day with the apartment, so she didn't know she was lying.
Will: "Alicia Florrick? I haven't seen you since Georgetown!"
Alicia: "Ha. Lives ago."
Will: "Not for me, I've just been doing this. Why are you in this building?"
Alicia: "Just got a job at Wells & Brolin! Nice kicks."
Will: "Ordinarily I wear grownup shoes and not sneakers but a baby threw up on them."
Alicia: "Not even gonna ask, because I have two kids myself so I can't exactly be like, How dare you have kids and a whole life without me?"
Will: "Oh hey, sorry your life sucks and everything. I swear it will get better. Listen, call me. Stern, Lockhart & Gardner."
Alicia: "Was that a Gardner at the end?"
Will: "Oh, did I tell you the whole name of my firm? Where I'm a name partner?"
Alicia: "Holy balls it is good to see you."
Will: "I have to go drink some scotch now is how nice it is to see you."
HOTEL
She goes straight for the wine, remembering this part. A cute cluck of the tongue, as no corkscrew reveals itself. She heads down to the hotel bar, instead.
It's not procrastinating.
TIMES SQ
Elsbeth takes a picture with a costumed-character bear in a flowered hat whom, if you follow NYC blabber at all, you already know is going to curse her out or something, so then it becomes the horror movie of anticipation of somebody being mean to Elsbeth Tascioni, an unthinkable thing.
Elsbeth: "Can I have just one hug?"
Mean Elmo: "Ya dirty Jew."
Elsbeth: "Whoa, what? And about that hug..."
Mean Elmo: "You dirty stinking Jew."
Elsbeth: "You know what, I don't even want a hug. Did you just call me a 'dirty stinking Jew'?"
Mean Elmo: "Deaf dirty stinking Jew."
Elsbeth: "Oh my God."
It's like it is only in this moment that Elsbeth remembers giant cartoon bears with flowery hats do not actually wander the urban streets in reality, and that actually inside that costume is a person whose disadvantages, whatever they may be, have brought him to a place where he is gainfully employed by sweating through the day dressed as a costumed-character bear in a flowered hat, in Times Square -- which from what I can tell is just tourists being rude to other tourists because they think it makes them seem more like New Yorkers -- which means that those disadvantages are almost guaranteed to include literally mental illness.
So on the one hand, take it seriously because it's unflattering to America that we treat people with acute medical conditions such that they gotta dress like bears and call people dirty Jews as their job, but on the other hand, take it not so seriously because the word "Jew" to him is not really about Jewish people, like exist in reality, but more like a codeword for the fairly simple concept of, "I am fucked in the head."
As a member of a particular minority for whom some words do carry a lot of real-world danger behind them, my rule of thumb is this: It's only hate speech if they're punching down. And almost anybody who uses words that way is probably punching up, at somebody that isn't even you, and it takes less than a second to know which thing is happening.
Will: "Elsbeth, thanks for meeting me out here, where there aren't lawyers."
Elsbeth: "I know! Just mean bears calling you weird slurs!"
Will: "I can tell that you're upset by that because your illusions that life has cartoon bears in it has just been shattered, and I'm sympathetic because you are wonderful, but focus on what I am saying, okay?"
Elsbeth: "As soon as I warn all these tourists there is an evil anti-Semitic bear!"
Will: "Okay, listen. I've been subpoenaed by Nelson Dubeck of the Office of Public Integrity, he's pressuring me to get to Peter Florrick."
Elsbeth: "If you testify against Governor Florrick, you risk disbarment because of privilege, but if you don't, you risk contempt. It's that One Percent Doctrine."
Will: "That darn what?"
Elsbeth: "That darn bear! Oh, one percent. If you're even one percent vulnerable, you're vulnerable. Who got you this video? Was it Kalinda? I love Kalinda."
Will: "I know you do, honey. The three of us are like a crazy family."
Elsbeth: "Say no more. I am going to take care of this Dubeck guy. I'm feeling a bit vulnerable because of that mean bear, but you know what? I'm gonna use it."
LG
They're playing soccer in the office, since Mom & Dad are in New York, which makes this whole scene and transition utterly perfect. Of course it's not just Alicia playing Wendy to a horde of Lost Boys, it's every partner at every firm. And of course Kalinda is sitting in the middle of it like a bored fifth-grader complaining silently about how boys are stupid. It's terrific.
Kalinda: "Thinks are different, um, when the lawyers are gone. What's up?"
Elsbeth: "Will, gimme the phone! Kalinda! Kalinda, I miss you!"
Kalinda: "I... You know what, I miss you too, sweetheart."
Elsbeth: "Dig me up some shit on Nelson Dubeck."
Kalinda: "No problem."
Elsbeth, loudly: "I am not a dirty stinking Jew!"
Kalinda: "Okay girl bye."
It's great because now she actually can. Will obviously couldn't be like, "Investigate this guy, but don't ask me why and don't tell anybody and don't tell Diane, and let's just hope you don't get deposed or indicted," but because it's Elsbeth doing this now, as his lawyer, they can loop around it back to her. I didn't think about that at the time but now I think it's really elegant. Both of these Chicago lawyers calling all the way back home.
SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME
Luckily, it's a piano bar! With a fully and terrifyingly appropriate song as Alicia is finally reunited with her friend wine, whom she thinks is going to help her do this instead of the truth -- take it from me -- that it's only going to make it more intense and more likely that she's going to bleed all over the pages and end up looking more naked up there than if she'd just stuck to her fruit basket and followed Mommy Cary's instructions.
The second day, the humiliating day in the white suit when she literally didn't have a clue what she was supposed to do, and she was trying to delay the lease on the apartment she couldn't afford in the first place, Jackie Florrick melted out of the shadows like some kind of goddamn Wendy Scott-Carr, and it was terrifying.
Jackie: "You can always live with me, my precioussss."
Alicia: "Oh, thank you so much, but um, this is in a really good school district."
Jackie: "School districts won't matter when I'm feasting on your liver, precious."
Is it real? This one, sure, but later on when Jackie shows back up again it's clearly a mental construct, which leads down a good rabbit hole: This idea that, when it comes to Peter, there has never been a time when the ghoulish presence of Jackie Florrick wasn't hanging over them, loving them in her particular harrowing way. Loving Peter better than Alicia can; being a certain kind of woman better than Alicia ever could.
And not just that, but even as the walls were closing in and she was feeling dark thoughts and breaking down in elevators and screaming "What the fuck am I going to do?" there was a better, stronger, brighter part in her that was screaming in relief. Finally her life could start, finally she was being forced into a new shape. Finally things had gotten so bad that she had no options but to change, and that means rising: Secret Future Alicia was already calling her home.
Which is the other thing Jackie was trying to stop, a thing neither of them could actually hear yet, but would have been motivating them both in this moment. Because if Alicia could stand on her own then she wouldn't need Peter, and if Peter didn't have Alicia he would break, and then Jackie would have to go on a killing streak. But that's way down the rabbit hole. The first thing is this, it's something any version of Alicia already knows: Giving is taking.
HOTEL BAR
Clarke looks adorable in a pink tie with wide-strewn blue paisleys, finally having escaped whatever taxi-cab limbo and walked fifteen blocks out of pure pique.
Clarke: "Robyn has an intuition that Rayna's leaving not just because of the indictments, but because out of ten senior partners she was the only woman."
Cary: "Geneva Pine once explained to me why that is a problem and now I get it."
Clarke: "So just play up the... Frame your story as one of female empowerment."
Alicia: "Okay. But also fuck you generally, The World. If my story is one of empowerment, it's already one of female empowerment. They keep asking Joss Whedon why he's so addicted to writing Strong Female Characters and he always says, Because you're still fucking asking me that. I will do these tricks for you because it's what we're here to do, but just know that you are making Joss Whedon cry."
Cary: "Everything makes Joss Whedon cry. And anyway, who cares? If you're honest enough the distinction won't matter. You're already proving us right."
Alicia: "So just to review, of the three people at our firm that matter, two of you are white guys, and then there's me. And this week is about exploiting that harder than even Eli ever pimped me out. And that bitch can pimp."
AT HOME
Alicia rehearsed, but who knows really. This is an indecision tree, too. It's different from the Will episode because in that one, there were good choices and bad choices -- there was a Darkest Timeline -- and that was interesting. But this isn't that, it's a truth about the way we remember things that is even more even-handed than the flipped memories and color-changing suits and dresses we've been seeing all season since the Coup. All of these memories are true, and valid, even the ones she's not remembering. Even the ones that aren't, are.
First try is not-quite-downtrodden, bullet-pointed: "Mr. Gardner, I'm a worthy lawyer who needs a job. Women are underrepresented in this business, and I shouldn't be overlooked just..."
Second try is flirty and confident; it's the winner. She grins, remembering. Matthew Ashbaugh's symphony hangs heavy in the air.
"...You did not! I don't look anything like those photos anymore... Ha! So um, you said I should call if I got a chance..."
SL&G
Jackie leans over her like a judge in a court of law, like a vulture; impossibly looming.
Jackie: "What are you wearing that for?"
Alicia: "Bitch, you weren't even here! This is just my imagination."
Jackie: "Don't change the subject. You opened the door to this the second you put pen to paper."
Alicia: "Fine. I bought this because it's businesslike..."
Jackie: "Three hundred bucks?"
Alicia: "Yeah, that's what a good dress costs."
Jackie: "Your husband is wasting away in prison, and you're seducing your way into..."
Alicia: "I'm right where your son put me. I have two kids."
Jackie: "No, you like nice things."
It's that darn One Percent Doctrine.
"...So go be a whore."
HOTEL BAR
Alicia smiles, remembering that time she whored her way into a job. She wore the big ring for that one, with the diamond, to keep it all above board. So he'd know where the lines were.
And where they could blur.
SL&G
Alicia: "Not much to say, honestly. I'm a mother, a wife. Now, a disgraced spouse..."
Will: "Yeah, sorry again about..."
Alicia: "That was me making a joke. I'm making light of the elephant. I am something of a wag. Or I used to be..."
Will: "Fine, it's very funny. And but now you have a job, so that's...?"
Alicia: "Well, here's the thing about that, which is, no I don't. It was a job that turned into a paralegal position that turned into something perilously referred to as an internship, right before my eyes. I was like What?"
Will: "What about here?"
Alicia: "That hadn't even occurred to me! Just kidding. I am toxic, though. And thirteen years out of practice technically..."
Will: "Look, either this is an interview or it's not but you gotta stop moving the goalposts. Talk yourself up or don't."
He was shining with it when he told her she was always good. It hurts more than she thought it would, again, this part.
Alicia: "Will, I'm poison. My last name, my husband..."
Will: "Stop doing what you're doing and start selling."
Alicia: "Is it not clear that I am losing my fucking mind?"
Will: "Hey. We've all got a past that could hurt us. Don't let yours hurt you."
Sad and happy, at the same time. She didn't. That's not the mistake she made.
SL&G
visit: Out in Reception, with Cary Agos looking beautiful and bright-eyed; a Caesar haircut that told you everything you needed to know.
Cary: "You're here for the job?"
Alicia: "Uh, yeah. You?"
Cary: "Yup. Huh."
HOTEL BAR
Alicia: "Cary, what did you think of me when we met?"
Cary: "Is this about the speech, or is this you procrastinating?"
Alicia: "Turns out it's all the same thing."
Cary: "I liked you."
Alicia: "Bullshit. Do you even remember when we met?"
Cary: "Reception. I really am being honest right now. It's kind of my thing."
Alicia: "I knew you were gonna get it, you were this cocky young associate..."
Cary: "That's exactly what I was. And you came off entitled."
Alicia: "...Yeah, valid. Poor as hell, but entitled to everything. Who would you hire, if we had to hire somebody today?"
They agree that Cary is still the better choice. The infinite hassles that don't exist above his head; how sexy he is on paper. They pretend to be abashed by that, but they're not.
Alicia: "I hate that I still wouldn't vote for myself."
Cary: "I think it makes you smart. Most people can't get out of their own way long enough to even see what you're talking about."
She didn't even know, back then, about Marthas & Caitlins. She didn't know which one she was. We never do.
So then why did Will take the chance?
Jackie: "Easy. Because you're a slut."
Cary: "Whoa! Where did you go?"
Alicia: "Sorry. I gotta finish. Talk later."
HOTEL LOBBY
Elsbeth gets off the phone with Kalinda, slinging her hideous Santa Fe purse and heading into the breach. She weaves the Elsbeth magic for... quite a while.
Elsbeth: "Hi! You need to leave Will Gardner alone or I'll sue you for harassment."
Dubeck: "I can't wait until I threaten you with the same thing as everybody else. You go tell Will to give in already. We know he showed the video to the Governor-Elect, and that's basically all we need to get him."
Elsbeth: "Oh! Show it to me! What is this? It's not a video, it's more like a... Do you say gif or pronounce it gif? It's weird living in the future."
Dubeck: "Gif."
Elsbeth: "Have you seen that one of the bear that falls onto the trampoline and then into a pool! I love that one, because I love bears. Or at least I did until today. But you know what I found out? It's faked! Digitally futzed with. I couldn't believe it, but it turns out eight bits per pixel makes them super fuckwithable. So I hope you have the original!"
Dubeck: "The Governor's guilty."
Elsbeth: "And you know this because..."
Dubeck: "He's the Governor of Illinois."
Elsbeth: "And they're all corrupt?"
Dubeck: "I think they all happen to be corrupt."
Elsbeth: "So you're saying it doesn't matter what the facts show, you're going to prosecute Peter Florrick for the crime of voter fraud?"
Dubeck: "Peter Florrick the criminal, who spent six months in prison."
Elsbeth: "And was exonerated?"
Dubeck: "Dismissed. Not the same thing."
Elsbeth: "So you are out to get him? Even if they're no proof?"
Dubeck: "I am out to get a criminal. I'll find the proof."
"This is Elsbeth Tascioni, recording Nelson Dubeck in the lobby of the Harrington Plaza at... 11:33 PM..."
In Chicago this would be illegal and inadmissible because both parties have to agree to a recording. (I cannot remember the episode that we went through this, it was a while back, but I still remember it because it blew my mind that different states have different laws about it.) But we're not in Chicago, we're in New York, a one-party consent state. Which Elsbeth sweetly gives. Of all the Elsbeth moves, this is one of my favorites, I think. It's not gonzo, it's just very insightful: She's transplanted this Florrick narrative so skillfully he feels at home right now, like they're doing this in Illinois, but they're not.
"I suggest you leave Mr. Gardner alone, sir. He's a nice man. He has no part in your vendetta against Governor Florrick. Oh and by the way? You should look into an anti-Semitic costumed furry bear in Times Square."
KEYNOTE
"Very few lawyers can reach their prime after a decade as a mother in suburbia, but Alicia Florrick is... Special."
The hall is dark, with two spots either side of the stage, very dramatic. Theatric and realistic. Clarke and Cary climb up her ass with last-second advice, pointing out Rayna in the audience, begging her to smile, and she rolls her eyes lovingly at them both before heading out.
Will comes in the back, after a rather long glance at the giant portrait of her at the door. Maybe this is helping, maybe this is just him hurting himself some more. But it's fair, and right, for him to be here for this particular story. It's his story too.
His hand reached out to hold the elevator door. The moment when his life would change, and go on changing.
He remembers her smiling, delighted; he remembers her saying his name.
Elsbeth sits, quietly, and plays back the recording she just made, and he smiles hugely. She's not a rainmaker, exactly, but she's Elsbeth all the time. Possibly able to make actual rain.
"And then a firm finally agreed to meet with me. I prepared by looking in a mirror... It was the only interview I could still get. When you're sitting across the desk from someone who can hire you, you feel every one of those thirteen years. But luckily, I had a very good interviewer. He asked me if I was up to it, coming back to the workplace; he pointed out that I was arguing against myself: I should stop pointing out reasons why I shouldn't be hired.
"What did I learn from this? Use everything you have to get the job," -- that one cuts pretty deep -- "And don't feel entitled."
Remember how long it took Geneva to explain this? It's the hardest thing in the world, actually. She says it, Cary says it, like it's nothing, but really it's everything: Digging under this concept you have of the way the world works, that you deserve what you have because your life feels very hard, and it's the only life you have firsthand experience of. You don't know you're feeling entitled, until it's denied you for a second, because that's what entitlement is.
SL&G
Diane wore pearls, with her less-sleek but still cute hair; Kalinda wore cap sleeves.
Will: "Look, just hear me out..."
Diane: "Will, the committee already voted!"
Will: "We cannot penalize somebody for..."
Diane: "She's on the news 24/7. Every political blog is about her..."
Will: "I mean it's not like she was the one sleeping with the hookers."
Diane: "Were you involved with this woman? You never push on associate hires."
Will: "Ugh. She was my friend. And between you and me, the smartest in our class."
Diane breathes, into trusting him, and tells him to get her something she can sell.
Will: "There's a lawyer I want, but I'm getting static. Put together a dossier on her."
Kalinda: "Great. Who?"
Will: "Alicia Florrick."
Kalinda: "...Fuck."
A year later, Kalinda will be Alicia's best friend, and Alicia will be Kalinda's favorite person on Earth. Diane will value nothing more than Alicia's fame, her once-toxic connections; how she turns notoriety into adoration. All these poisons will be transmuted.
KEYNOTE
Will lets himself smile at the applause, and the laughter. He is allowed, back in the back, to remember these things without hurting; he is allowed to smile if she can't see him.
"Of course, the advantage of being a woman opting back in is that no one ever questioned why you opted out in the first place. Women are cut little slack on this. Men, even less..."
Marthas and Caitlins, Carys and Careys. No contest. She can't say what she's saying, but you hear it ring like a bell.
Women are bad hires because their bodies can do things men's bodies can't do. The system in its current state puts men's bodies at the baseline: Women's bodies are really just men's bodies with a design flaw: They're capable of fucking up everything, for forty weeks at a time, without warning. Selfishly, lazily. A good Martha knows it's not about changing an archaic system to include actual people; a good Martha will tell you that your only chance to get ahead is to be the best man you can, knowing that you never will.
Kalinda: "On this Florrick woman. I did my due diligence -- and I might soft-pedal this, if I didn't have something of a vested interest in her working literally anywhere but my office -- but so okay. She won a couple dozen cases and brought in some small clients, before maternity. But the bad news is, they were about to fire her. They said she wasn't tough enough, she lacked a killer instinct. She never knew that was coming."
Will: "Cool story. Bury it."
"The one upside to a scandal, or a tragedy in your life, is that it is the best kind of wake-up call. Would I have done it any differently if I were a man? If I were a man..."
People start filing out now, checking their phones; not meandering out because they're bored, or turned off by a woman talking about what it's like to be a woman in a room built for men -- in a room built for men -- but because of a hostile takeover going on with a pharma company that everybody wants in on. It's nice to play the liberal diversity game and watch a lady talk with a couple martinis in you, but now there's real work to be done.
"...The answer is I would never do it differently. The key is to raise your profile. Opt-out moms are held to a higher standard than anyone else, we have to work harder. We have to make up for lost time."
LOST TIME
There's only one table left at the diner across the street; a two-top to the one where Will is sitting. Alicia makes no bones about the awkwardness, but the waitress could care less.
Will: "Jeez, I'm almost finished. I won't bother you."
Alicia: "Can a sister get a scotch, no ice?"
Will: "They only have fuckin' beer. Not even a particular beer, they just bring you a stein of 'beer.'"
Alicia: "This waitress is not a fan of mine. But you know what, I don't give a flying crap."
Will: "A quote 'flying crap'?"
Alicia: "Go to hell, dude. How's that?"
Will: "Aren't you feisty."
Alicia: "I just had frickin' three hundred people walk out..."
Will: "More like four."
Alicia: "Why do you hate me?"
"Hmm. Well, I don't like you. Hate's probably too strong."
Will: "Are you seriously asking me why? You schemed for three weeks, while I was sitting there thinking we were finally at a..."
Alicia: "Oh no, you know me better than that. All I wanted to do was tell you, or get it over with. Those were the grossest three weeks of my professional life."
Will: "Oh, so you wanted to leave right away with our clients. Good save. Don't ask questions if you don't want the answers."
Alicia: "You are unbelievable. You know we never would have worked."
Will: "You are... Linking two things together that I never did."
It's bullshit, but sometimes it is important to say bullshit, if it's the kind of bullshit that leaves room for both parties to be graceful. They sit at these two tables, not looking at each other; if it were a Magic Eye picture you could cross your eyes and composite them together and everything would be okay. But you'd get such a fucking headache.
Will: "That waitress really is after you. You could call her a bitch, if you want."
Alicia: "Thanks, BITCH!"
Will: "...Heh."
Alicia: "So you're saying if it were any other partner leaving -- just like, by the way and once again, you and Diane left -- you would hate me this much?"
Will: "I would be every bit as unhappy, and every bit as competitive."
Alicia: "Speaking as your Alicia for a moment, this is fucking sick. You are doing the Will Thing. You are enjoying your pain too much."
Will: "That is true."
Alicia: "So you're gonna fight me on every client and every case and every..."
Will: "You are literally my competitor. You made yourself my competitor. And trust me, you're up for it. You're a big girl, right?"
Alicia: "That is ... not even bullshit. Okay, I can deal with that."
Cary: "Where are you? Can you talk?"
Alicia: "Across the street, and absolutely not. Guess who."
Cary: "You two are a couple of fucking maniacs. Listen, it's showtime with Rayna Hecht. She liked your speech and she wants to meet downstairs, now."
Alicia: "Girl I just aggressively drank twelve 'beers' at Will Gardner's face."
Cary: "Nevertheless."
Will: "Ooh, big meeting? Big midnight meeting?"
Alicia: "Yeah, we're meeting on how to destroy our enemies. Our competitors. You."
Will: "I have been trying to get you to fight me for ten episodes. That is the only way I wouldn't go crazy, and you didn't do it, and I went crazy. You have no idea how relieved I am that you're finally doing it right."
Alicia: "May the best man win. And go fuck yourself."
LOBBY
Jim Moody comes lumbering up, much the worse for wear, and pulls Will into a hall off the lobby. I always thought Moody stopped being a good soldier the moment Eli treated him like garbage at the end of their conversation in that diner. Like literally the last second of their acquaintance, Eli drove Moody into Dubeck's arms.
Moody: "I'm Jim..."
Will: "I know. Go away."
Moody: "If I could just have five..."
Will: "Not even one. Go away."
Moody: "This Dubeck is turning the screws on me..."
Will: "First of all, it's one screw and everybody's getting it. Second of all, I get that you're not a lawyer, but for real? We are witnesses in a grand jury. We cannot speak. Go away."
Moody: "I only did what Eli wanted that night!"
Will: "That is a matter of interpretation and also GO AWAY. Seriously, stay the hell away from me or I'm calling security. You are burning down the city right now with this bullshit."
HOTEL BAR
Alicia is slumped in a banquette but she holds it together okay. The strategy for the team is that she stay silent and choose her words very carefully, which is also the strategy for Alicia every single day, so it works out okay. The boys are, um, horrified at her slight inebriation, because nobody wants to see Mommy tipsy, and also because she is the womanhood stalking horse. It's a poor craftsman that blames his tools, but when that tool just got white-girl wasted with her ex-boyfriend and current nemesis...
What's most interesting about this scene, to me, is the way that Rayna's body is angled toward hers in such a way that the boys are always interrupting the conversation, no matter what. And the boys never notice this, of course, and Rayna is too cool to change it, so the whole thing is awkward in a way that puts her on top and Alicia in the middle and the boys are just hilarious. Well, "hilarious." They're men, they act like men, and everybody pretends not to notice, because that's part of the deal.
Rayna: "Alicia, I liked your speech!"
Boys: "Wasn't it so woman-power? Anyway, about our firm..."
Rayna: "I'll decide in 48 hours. I'm telling you this so you'll back off, so listen up. I am into your firm because you have women partners. Do you get what I'm saying?"
Boys: "We do not. Allow us to explain to you about how treating women like people..."
Rayna: "Alicia. Why did you leave LG? I'm vetting them too, but this is your major question also."
Alicia: "I loved it there, to a point. They let me grow, and learn, and then it was time to put what I'd learned on its feet."
Rayna: "Good answer, Alicia..."
Boys: "Wasn't it? Now about Florrick/Agos..."
Rayna: "Alicia. What do you want in life?"
Alicia: "Joy, and self-determination. I want a happy life, and to control my fate."
Rayna: "Got it. Thanks, Alicia."
Did we ever talk about that study, I think it was in New Zealand, where they showed discussions among different ratios of men to women, and no matter what the selection was or how much the women talked, both men and women consistently reported that the women in the group were talking like twenty percentage points more than they were? Even the people running the study overestimated the percentage of time the women took up with their jibber-jabber. Anything over some fucking ridiculously low number, like 30%, and people reliably perceived that the women were dominating the conversation.
When Rayna leaves, they think maybe there's still a chance. They don't understand they just lost the rainmaker, by a hair, and they won't ever know why. Because to explain why would take a thousand years, which is why we don't. All three of them, Alicia included, think it's somehow her -- that she didn't answer these oracular questions correctly. But she did great. The real answer is right there, invisible as ever.
PIANO
Later, Elsbeth is singing "High Hopes" -- the song about the ant trying to move the rubber tree -- to the accompaniment of none other than Clark Hayden. Truly a magical night. In his soft way he acknowledges her crappy singing voice, and they laugh.
Elsbeth: "I know! But this city, it inspires me. I find it makes me sweat! Time for more drinks, Mr. Hayden..."
Clarke: "I'm old-fashioned, Ms. Tascioni. I'll treat."
Elsbeth: "I'm having a great day. I just started a new firm!"
Clarke: "With whom, may I ask? And please don't say..."
Elsbeth: "This nice lady Rayna Hecht!"
She stumbles away to take a call, and Clarke sits back down heavily, playing discordance. Where's she's going is...
THAT OLD BLACK DUBECK VAN
Where Will immediately figures out the whole Jim Moody thing was a setup: He dragged him to a hallway where the cameras don't have sound, so all that exists is all that matters, which is the timestamped sight of the two of them talking.
Will: "Um, that's me telling him to fuck off."
Dubeck: "And yet to a grand jury, that's two witnesses conspiring to cover up election fraud. That's ten years in federal prison."
Elsbeth: "Ridiculous."
Dubeck: "Well, this is the raw footage and the chain of custody's intact, so is it?"
Will: "You turned Jim Moody. A good soldier."
Dubeck: "Yeah, just like this: I don't care about you. I want Florrick. You testify against him, that's it."
Elsbeth: "We're done talking for now."
Dubeck: "Cool, you have 48 hours."
NOW
Alicia's in the lobby, heading for her flight home in a lovely red jacket, when she's approached by the first lady from the episode, the long-ago interviewer Lorraine Joy, from Clements & Holloway. The rubbernecker. (Mel from thirtysomething, which makes me wonder if this isn't going to be a thing down the road, some horrible how.)
Lorraine: "Do you remember me? It was a few years ago..."
Alicia: "You fucking bet I do."
Lorraine: "I looooooved your speech last night. Terrific."
Alicia: "Great. I hope you've changed as much as I have since then."
Lorraine: "Do you think we could tease you away from your new firm you just started, even though that makes no sense?"
Alicia: "Not even if it did, bitch."
Lorraine: "So nice to see you! Think about it!"
Which is all the reward she needed. All those Alicias, fourth-year and third-year and first-year and opt-in and opt-out and Georgetown and Veronica: For a second all the Alicias are there, with a glorious internal high-five. That one percent is how we rise.
THEN
She was still standing up when he hired her. Couldn't keep it in.
"First year associate, you start on Monday. You're stuck with us, so now you have to impress us."
She did her best not to quiet down, not to sell herself short, not to play it down. Just be grateful, just say thank you, just look the guy in the eye on your high heels and say, You will not be sorry for treating me like a person. There are no apologies in there. Your life changed when Peter went away, and when that man's hand opened the elevator, and when you left the nest to fly; it keeps changing. But this was when you stopped apologizing.
"Alicia, enough. When I'm broke and lying in an alley somewhere, do something nice for me. That's all."
She headed out to review contract law and get started at her new job, and everything was above board. He didn't smile his real smile, the sun-coming-out smile, until her back was turned and he was allowed to be happy. Everything was still safe.
And then she turned at the door, looked at him over her shoulder, and smiled right back.
WEEK
Dubeck comes after Alicia, so she gets Cary to be her lawyer. Will takes back up with the curious case of Silas Botwin against Matthew Goode, playing the new star prosecutor at the SA.
JACOB CLIFTON is a freelance writer and critic based in Austin, Texas. He currently recaps The Good Wife, Bates Motel, The Blacklist, The 100, and Pretty Little Liars for TWoP. Jacob can be found online at jacobclifton.com, Twitter, and Facebook, and a regular column for Tor.com, Geek Love.