The Good Wife
Julianna Margulies as The Good Wife
I had seen one or two episodes of The Good Wife before last night but had not seen the first six. Confronted with an evening in and with little desire to do anything productive, I found one of those pirated TV sites and watched the first six episodes. All in a row. Dear readers, I am addicted. It is a wonder I had not become hooked before, so much is this show up my alley.
The premise: Alicia Florrick’s husband, Peter, has been convicted of corruption charges stemming from his alleged misuse of funds during his time as State’s Attorney for Cook County (Chicago). That’s the alleged part (at least in the narrative of the show). What’s not being denied by Peter is that he had sex with a number of prostitutes, over a reasonably long period of time. Alicia (Julianna Margulies) is the good wife, and is clearly inspired by Silda Spitzer, Dina McGreevey, and Hillary Rodham Clinton (whose photo makes an appearance in the pilot). The ads for the show generally left the viewer with the impression that this was all that was going on. But no: with Peter (Chris Noth, whose appeal I have never understood) in prison, Alicia must go back to work in order to support their two kids (they have also lost their house). She had worked as a lawyer before her kids were born and she manages to get a job as a junior associate at an up-and-coming Chicago firm through a friend from law school. There she gets to solve crimes, defend the wrongfully accused, and compete with the other junior associate for a permanent position in the firm. (Cause on TV that’s what first-year associates get to do at law firms.)
Had I known all that, I would have been on board long ago. Because The Good Wife manages to combine two of my very favorite elements in one TV show: legal procedural and story about female
Alicia stands by her man
empowerment. But there is more! The show’s title is deliberate and interesting. Alicia is, in one sense, the good wife. The pilot opens with Peter confronting a bank of reporters and cameras as he announces his resignation, admits his misdeeds (the prostitutes), but proclaims his innocence regarding the misuse of funds. Alicia stands beside him, glazed look on her face. We have been here before. Too many times. But immediately after they disappear from camera’s view, we get to see what happens: she slaps him. And this back-and-forth between “standing by her man” publicly and railing against him privately continues throughout the episodes. She still loves him but she is also increasingly enraged by him, the more so as she discovers further infidelities. But the show goes further. Alicia is a good wife, in the sense that she goes back to work to support her family, but she clearly also enjoys her work and is good at it. She also makes a number of choices (some of which involve her husband’s knowledge of the very cases she’s trying) that are ethically dubious, at best, and illegal, at worst. She may be good, but she’s also human. And this makes her an immensely appealing character.
There are so many other reasons to like this show. Chief among them is, of course, that the main character is a woman who is not just one-dimensional. She is capable and yet also vulnerable: a wife, mother, and a skilled attorney, and all these things matter to her. And that she is played by Julianna Margulies, who does a really fantastic job. I was not a big ER fan, but like every other American, I have seen at least a few episodes of the show that ran for 15 years. So I remember Nurse Hathaway and I’m glad that she’s back and that yet another network is taking a chance on a whole show centered around a female actor over the age of 40. She’s not the only great female character.
Kalinda & Alicia: Sisterhood is Powerful!
Her relationship with the law firm’s investigator, Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi) is fantastic. Kalinda is young and assertive and very good at her job. At first she is pretty skeptical about Alicia’s abilities. She criticizes Alicia’s propensity to identify too quickly with the clients (and indeed there is an irritating degree of automatic female empathy that the show thinks is more subtle than it really is), but eventually comes to respect her talent and intelligence. There are some excellent – and slightly unsubtle – scenes that could well be described like this: “sisterhood is powerful!” And I loved every one of them. One of the firm’s partners is played by the brilliant Christine Baranski, and while she doesn’t always get to be as funny as we know she can be, she’s still pretty great. Guest stars have included Martha Plimpton (!) as a very pregnant and rather duplicitous corporate defense attorney and Leslie Hendrix as a feisty jury consultant (Hendrix is best known as Medical Examiner Elizabeth Rodgers on Law and Order).
The Good Wife is not without a few faults, the first of which I’ve already mentioned: the writers often have Alicia identify with women and victims, as if this would happen automatically as a result of her experiences and her sex. To their credit, she also manages to recognize the ways in which that identification is sometimes misguided. The show also has an irritating habit of having all characters identify Alicia as “Mrs. Florrick.” This makes sense in certain situations, but much less so in others, particularly when characters with whom she interacts at work – some of whom have no idea about her famous husband – refer to her as this instead of Ms. Florrick or simply Alicia. In fact, almost all characters who are married get called “Mrs.” in all kinds of professional settings and this just seems silly, not just because many of them might have kept their own names but also because, even if they have not, workplace etiquette in many of these situations would demand that they be called “Ms.” The single women, like Kalinda, just get called by their first names.
Does the show misrepresent life in a law firm? No doubt. Is it slightly heavy-handed in its depiction of women’s empowerment? Probably so. Is it a little manipulative in its marshalling of emotions? Absolutely. Is it a TV program? Indeed it is. And one I plan to watch every Tuesday night.
Friday Night In?
Denver By Night
When I lived back in my former urban home the prospect of a weekend night in filled me with dread. Scratch that: I rarely even considered spending a weekend night in so there was actually very little dread. This is not to say that going out on a Friday or Saturday was always a completely thrilling adventure — skipping from one fabulous party to the next, for instance — but it was certainly always a possibility. I knew lots of people and even if no one had a line on an event or a party, at the very least we could go to a bar, or two or three. Because there were lots of bars for those of a homosexualist inclination. And even if every single one of my friends was either out of town or otherwise occupied I could always go to a bar, gasp, by myself. Because in many big cities gay bars feel like a very welcoming place for people on their own, feel as if, in fact, they were designed for people out on their own. It’s one of the best things about gay bars and, in many places, about the gays themselves.
But now I live in Denver. And as Alastair is out of town this weekend and I wasn’t organized enough to make other plans in advance, it looks like I may well be staying in. Perhaps it’s because Denver sucks (more on this below) or perhaps it’s because I’m older and wiser (well, definitely the former), but this no longer makes me as antsy as it once would have. While I certainly don’t relish the prospect of a Friday night in alone (movie? TV? too much wine? work?), it does not make me feel like a social failure as it once would have. There are a couple reasons for this. The first is that I feel confident that it wouldn’t happen to me (except by choice) if I were still living where I used to live, because I have friends there. The second is that I’ve become more accustomed to the idea that maybe one of the reasons I don’t have more friends in the Mile High City is not because I am objectionable, but rather because I just haven’t found all that many other people that I actually like. These are not my people, in other words. (This one may be totally about me consoling and/or tricking myself, but it seems to be working.)
So, you might ask, why don’t you just go out by yourself to one of these bars for homosexualists? Oh, dear reader, but I have tried. When I first moved to Denver lo those years ago I did go to bars on my own — as I have done in other cities — and I left bored and drunk. Some nights I wouldn’t talk to a soul, save the bartender, all night. I’m sure I could have been much better about approaching others and trying to talk to them, but Denver gay bars seem relentlessly cliquey. One does not feel encouraged to approach others. And on the few occasions when I did end up talking to other people, they were often shocked — shocked, I tell you! — that I was there on my own. It became the topic of conversation, to the point that it wasn’t really all that much fun. So I’ve given up. And my disdain for Denver’s gay scene will probably keep me warm when, in all likelihood, I stay in tonight.
Three years ago, however, not only would I have been surprised at my lack of discomfort at staying in (clearly not all gone; I am writing this post, after all), but what would have surprised me even more is the notion of living in a purported city where I would actually prefer to stay at home in the first place. It feels a bit more like playing hooky than not being invited to the party. Oh, Denver.
(500) Days of Summer
On my flight back to the Mile High City I happened to look through my copy of Hemispheres magazine (yes, I was on United, natch, and I love the little “In Transit” features) and noticed that when I fly out for Christmas the movie on my flight will be (500) Days of Summer. I love this movie, so much so that I’ve already seen it a couple times and bought the soundtrack, which I’m listening to right now. I am not normally a purchaser of soundtracks, though I did go through a streak in college and immediately thereafter (Reality Bites, Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, Pédale Douce [study abroad in France], Center Stage, and Wild Things, if you can believe it).
But I digress. I am no film scholar and I don’t pretend to be a movie critic either, and while I loved the movie for some superficial reasons as well (soundtrack, sheer cuteness of the stars), my main reasons for loving it have to do with what I will call its romantic politics. [Before reading on, readers beware that everything that follows is nothing but an enormous spoiler, though not one that will ruin the movie as it admits from its very first line that while it is a movie about boy meeting girl, it is not a love story. They break up within the first couple scenes.]
Onward to the reasons that I love this movie:
1. I love that the boy is the one who falls hopelessly in love with the girl, moons over her at great length, and has his heart broken by her. Instead of the other way ‘round, which is what we usually see in mainstream movies. Not only that, but we are told from the get-go that he is the one that believes in true love, whereas Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel) says in the first karaoke club scene that she doesn’t even believe in love. And she says it so matter-of-factly.
2. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel are adorable. Kind of ridiculously so. Including their outfits.
3. The scene (in the trailer above) where Tom (JG-L) dances through the park, ecstatic because he is either in love or in lust or thinks he’s found “the one” and she likes him back. Whatever you want to call that first moment where you really feel like you’ve found someone pretty special and s/he likes you right back, this is a pretty great depiction of it.
4. And conversely, the scene in the bar, before Tom punches out the lout on Summer’s behalf, where he makes fun of the woman’s clothing and even though you know that Summer would have agreed with him in days past, she is now irritated with him and disagrees just on principle. Have we not all been there?
5. When Tom asks Summer what happened to make her previous relationships end, she says, “What always happens: life.” Indeed.
6. One of my all-time favorite lines from a movie: After an argument, Tom tells Summer that he doesn’t want a “commitment,” per se, but he does want her to promise that she won’t wake up one morning and not want to be with him. Summer: “But, no one can promise you that.” Amen, sister. This is one of my many fundamental quibbles with marriage, especially when divorce is not only possible, but utilized by half of all couples who do marry. Promising to stay with someone forever and love and honor that someone (or whatever language one uses) seems much more like a lovely wish and a means of reassurance than something that any two people can swear they will do. The bottom line: people change and so do their feelings. Claiming that one will love someone forever is a beautiful sentiment, but it’s also highly unrealistic for many. And the second bottom line is this: there’s no way of sorting out which group of people is which at the outset because (at least in theory) everyone means it when they make those promises.
7. Finally, Tom realizes by the end of the movie (thanks to voiceover, we know this) that there is no fate and no destiny, there is only chance when meeting and loving other people. But that just because meeting someone is a chance event, it doesn’t mean that it is any less wonderful. The movie is not anti-love, in other words, it’s just anti-destined love, anti-“meant to be.” The Gentleman Friend disagrees with me on this one, saying that Summer’s marriage and adoption of “meant to be” as her mantra is proof of a more complex message, but I contend that Tom is the protagonist and we are meant to see his perspective as that of the movie itself. Add to that the fact that many viewers might well hate Summer in the end (though all she says to Tom – another truth! – is that she felt something with her husband that she just didn’t feel with Tom), and I’m guessing we’re not all supposed to be taking her side in matters of the heart. The GF also contends that the presence of Autumn is meant to be a sign that the filmmaker sees the next relationship as perhaps destined (particularly given that they were often in the same place but he was too preoccupied with Summer to notice) but I see it this way: he could end up with Autumn, and he could move on. Just as we all could.
Post-Thanksgiving Ruminations…
We have returned from the Thanksgiving festivities and must immediately commence a regimen of starvation and exercise if the entirety of the period of late November through early January (usually known as “the holidays”) does not leave us resembling beached whales due to all the celebratory noshing and imbibing. Regaining a pre-Thanksgiving weight should put us in good stead to gain it all back again over Christmas and New Years. But at least we’ll only have half as much to lose in early January as we’d have had if we just keep eating from here on out…
Speaking of exercising: the DaOiD boys do not participate in winter sports (though we do exercise regularly) but we are constantly asked if we do. This tends to happen in two distinct contexts:
1. When meeting other Coloradans who take it as a given that we either ski or snowboard or hike or take flimsy boats down frothy rivers. We do none of these things.
2. When outside Colorado and meeting new people who are trying to put a positive spin on our response to their inquiry about where it is that we reside: “Denver,” said with either a sneer or a sigh.
Because the DaOiD boys do none of the Colorado activities that everyone assumes we do, we have made a number of strange observations about Denver’s culture of athleticism. In very little logical order, they are:
1. This one has been oft-observed by others: Coloradans are always excited by snow, in that it means they can ski and do the other aforementioned activities, but they seem to be completely unable to cope with it on roads and sidewalks. Because the DaOiD boys are originally from very snowy climes – before we relocated to our previous urban homes of more recent vintage – we find this disjuncture particularly surprising. Suck it up, Coloradans! I’m not saying that we like it any better than you do (we don’t) but at least we know how to deal with it.
2. Coloradans seem to be a particularly athletic bunch, but they don’t walk anywhere. They will get in cars and enormous gas-guzzling SUVs to go to the park for a run, when they could actually run to the very same park. For a state that prides itself on its athleticism, Coloradans are remarkably lazy.
3. This means that when they go out at night many of them drive drunk. We have been sort of stunned to observe the degree to which, because everyone is so dependent on automobile travel, Coloradans – gays and straights alike –seem perfectly comfortable drinking copious amounts of alcohol at bars and parties (and we are certainly not opposed to this) and then getting behind the wheels of their cars (we are not in favor of this). We are well aware that there is no subway or metro here – don’t get us started! – but what about the bus, people? Or a taxi cab? Or – gasp – one’s very own two feet?
4. Since 1990 Colorado has captured the title of skinniest state in the nation. (Mississippi is currently the most overweight with 32% of its adults obese). But even Colorado has an obesity rate of about 19.1% and, if anything, its rate has been on the increase (as it has for all other states in the nation). So given that even Colorado could stand to do better, it’s clearly still more petite than every other state. How? Clearly not everyone is skiing – which, when you think about it, is still just sitting on an electric chair to go uphill and sliding on sticks going down – and most people are certainly not walking in their everyday lives, at least not in Denver. So how do we do it, Colorado? Is it just that a lot of athletic people moved here and they go (read: drive) to the gym all the time? Or – as I suspected when I first moved here and lost some of my regular appetite –does it have something to do with the altitude? What makes Colorado so skinny (by which I mean 80.9% non-obese)?
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