‘The Good Wife’ deserves a good end

By Verne Gay

Newsday

One of the outstanding dramas of TV’s golden age ends today, and there’s a lot to talk about. But then there always was with “The Good Wife.”

“You and I should talk,” in fact, was possibly the most repeated line of dialogue over seven seasons and 154 episodes. TV’s most densely packed drama also was its most densely worded drama at times. Often unfolding in courtrooms, with a judge and that baleful reminder above his head (“In God We Trust”) as witness, the setting was usually just a rarefied and expensively appointed law office, with light filtering in from between the horizontal blinds. (The show was set in Chicago, but that was actually New York light. Specifically, Brooklyn, where one of the city’s most esteemed homegrown productions was shot.)

Plots were hatched (or demolished) in those offices, while hearts were laid bare (or shredded). “The Good Wife” leaves behind a great deal, and not just aggrieved fans. There’s an enormous amount of back story and shared history about to come to an end – far too much to remember or sort out in the short time left. Instead, let’s talk about what mattered most over these seven seasons – or rather who: Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies).

“The Good Wife” arrived in 2009 just as two other future classics were in ascendance, “Mad Men” (2007) and “Breaking Bad” (2008). All three had the same preoccupations and themes – troubled protagonists, midlife crises, the uncertain terrain of the American dream. The workplace may often have been their setting, but it was the trade craft that symbolized their characters’ plight and struggle. For Alicia Florrick, that would be the moral relativism of law.

These shows and their heroes agonized over what was right and what was wrong – prime time’s enduring struggle of good versus evil. Right versus wrong? Viewers knew the difference. Don Draper, Walter White and even Alicia Florrick didn’t necessarily. That’s what made them “conflicted,” flawed and fascinating.

Comparisons end there. “The Good Wife,” the creation of married showrunners Michelle and Robert King, was unique.

It arrived in the wake of a series of high-profile sex scandals, most notably the 2008 prostitution scandal that destroyed former New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer’s political career. But the Kings were intrigued by the victim, not the malefactor: the spouse, who silently stood by as both supporter and prop.

“We thought there was no more interesting character in modern politics,” Robert King told the Los Angeles Times at launch.

Viewers first saw Alicia stand silently by as disgraced Illinois State’s Attorney Peter Florrick (Chris Noth) explained to the press that he did not use public funds in the patronage of prostitutes. While spinning this, Alicia noticed an errant loose thread on his suit sleeve, and reached for it.

Margulies was perfect in the role. Her face didn’t contort to reflect her inner struggle, but you could almost see her eyes turn inward to study her own thoughts and emotions. Alicia Florrick was watchful, but she watched herself as much as others.

That the practice of law on “The Good Wife” should involve the constant – and treacherous – navigation between right and wrong would have hardly come as a surprise to Alicia. Top in her class at Georgetown, a standout at another firm, she knew the game. What surprised her was just how good she was at playing it.

To understand Alicia’s evolution, and to appreciate it, you needed to appreciate all the other female characters who surrounded her. The transcendent actresses in those roles made that part easy. Christine Baranski’s Diane Lockhart was mentor and role model, also (perhaps) Alicia’s future foretold. Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi) taught Alicia that the art of law was really just the art of war; leave no survivors behind. Elsbeth Tascioni (Carrie Preston) was comic relief, but also highly skilled and principled. Alicia discovered that Elsbeth’s feigned madness was her method. From the early seasons, Patti Nyholm (Martha Plimpton) taught Alicia that you could be a lawyer and mother at the same time, if you were willing to lug your babies to depositions.

The journey of Alicia ends tonight, but where? How? Don Draper ended up on top of a cliff, dreaming up a famous Coke ad. Walter White lay dying after a gunbattle. Character defined their end. Character will define Alicia’s. Imperfect to the end and flawed – if not fatally – she was a good wife, good mother and good lawyer.

A good human being, too. She deserves a good end. Let’s hope she gets one.