I don’t often write about TV — I tend to watch only two or three shows at any one time — but the latest episode of The Good Wife is a biggie. If you haven’t watched the episode, look away now and go and watch it, because huge spoilers will follow.


I started watching The Good Wife soon after its début in 2009 and it soon replaced Mad Men as my favourite TV show. I love the combination of the case-of-the week (which satisfied my legal leanings), the drama and slow-burning relationships among the characters, and the political sub-plots. It’s the only show I go out of my way to watch while I’m on holiday — most memorably, I watched the emotional rollercoaster of season four’s penultimate episode on my iPad in an infinity pool in Costa Rica last year. But I digress.

For me, the relationship between Will and Alicia has always been central to the show. Not just the romantic and passionate aspects, but their friendship and their history too. It has always felt like this relationship was end-game, so I didn’t mind too much that we didn’t get to see many scenes of them happy together in season three (although this season, while the two have been at odds, we’ve been able to enjoy a few more in the form of wistful flashbacks to happier times). There would be further exploration in the future, I assumed, even if things didn’t end the way I hoped for.

At the start of this season, Alicia and Cary left Lockhart Gardner to start their own firm, taking some of their clients with them and leaving Will with a huge sense of personal and professional betrayal that has been at the core of all of this season’s key plots. At the time, the writers explained that it was a way of keeping Alicia and Will’s relationship interesting, but now we all know that the real impetus was that a year ago, Josh Charles, who plays Will, decided to leave the show. Julianna Margulies, who plays Alicia and who is also a producer on the show, did manage to talk him into staying on for 15 more episodes to give Will a good send-off. But now this season doesn’t just look like the exploration of new depths of the relationship between Alicia and Will, so much as Will Gardner’s swan song.

I was suspicious when there was no resolution to episode seven's case-of-the-week. It was a typical ‘Will’ case, where he truly believed in the innocence of his timid, young client, Jeffrey Grant, and, firing moral outrage from all cannons, was willing to do anything to get the murder case against Grant dismissed. Eight episodes and several months later, the case has come to trial and Will is doing his damnedest to refute the damning DNA evidence against Grant. But in his desperation to win and to clear his client, he misses the warning signs that Grant really, really doesn’t want to go into solitary confinement, even though he is being assaulted in general population. Just like the court guard misses the fact that his gun is within easy reach of an increasingly panicked Grant.

Cut to Diane in the next courtroom and what sounds like gunshots. Or was it a false alarm — the judge's gavel? No, it was gunfire. A distraught Kalinda (someone give Archie Panjabi another Emmy) and Diane make their way to the hospital and discover that Will was DOA. Kalinda tries to call Alicia, but she’s stuck at a particularly cringe-worthy correspondents’ lunch and isn’t answering her phone. Kalinda eventually gets through to Eli and when she explains why she’s calling, Eli knows Alicia has to take the call. We have to wait until next week for her reaction to the news. The scene mirrors the season one finale, where Will tries to call Alicia just as she is about to join Peter on stage at the launch of his re-election campaign. Eli sends the calls to voicemail, deleting one of Will’s two messages — the one where he says he loves her and wants to give their relationship a shot — a sub-plot that occupies much of season two.

I knew the death was probably coming when I read the first line of the note to the fans posted on the Facebook page by writers, but "the loss of Will Gardner" was somewhat ambiguous to my optimistic mind and throughout the episode, I kept hoping that he wasn't going to die. I certainly didn't think the death would happen that way. When explaining their motivation for the death, the Kings noted that deaths are often sudden and unexpected, and you don't always get the chance to put your affairs in order or say your goodbyes. That's fair enough and Will's death will impact all of the main characters in plenty of interesting ways. It doesn't mean I have to like it. 

Will's character is central to the show and his relationships with Kalinda and Diane are just as important as his connection with Alicia, and although I will continue to watch the show, I feel like its best years — or, at least, my favourite years — will be behind me. (Incidentally, season five has been one of the best.) Even if it turned out that Will and Alicia weren't each other’s true loves, it would have been nice to get some resolution either way, after investing nearly five seasons in their relationship. Given the show's history with missed calls and voicemails, I am hopeful that Alicia might discover a message from beyond the grave, but otherwise, we might never know. But I do at least know to take off my eye make-up before the inevitable grief-fest of next week's episode.

The Good Wife, in case I haven't mentioned it often enough lately, is one of my favourite TV shows (OK, one of my favourites out of the four or so that I watch), some weeks I even prefer it to Mad Men and like Mad Men, TGW is a real slow-burner. In fact, it feels even slower because its seasons are twice as long and still the main, overarching plots taken forever to develop (or, just as often, not develop).

Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies, whose performance in the latest episode may well put her on track for another Emmy) has spent 1 9/10 seasons being the eponymous good wife, standing by her husband Peter, the former State's Attorney for Cook's County, when he admitted to sleeping with a prostitute on 18 occasions and served half a season of jail time for alleged abuses of his position. After more than a decade as a stay-at-home mom, Alicia got a job as a junior associate at the firm of her old friend/could-have-been romantic interest Will, and does all that she can to protect her children from the ensuing chaos, and to keep calm and carry on lawyering. She supported Peter in his campaign for re-election after he was released from prison and cleared of the charges against him -- grudgingly, sometimes, but still. She pushed aside the torch she may carry for Will. And on the night before Peter's election, she finally agreed to do a TV interview and told the world (well, Chicago, at least, because, let's face it, presidential election this ain't) that she forgave Peter.

And then it all goes horribly wrong. It turns out that as well as the prostitute, Peter slept with an employee of his at the state's attorney's office in exchange for helping her change her name and her identity. The woman now works as the investigator for Alicia's law firm -- the awesome but evasive Kalinda -- and has become Alicia's best friend. The ever-tactless investigator for the incumbent State's Attorney's office lets this cat out of the bag just seconds after Alicia finds out that Peter has won the election, and this is where the previous episode ended.

This week's episode opens in the same place and then we see Alicia in her apartment, pacing around with structure and purpose. She packs all of Peter's things into boxes and, having made an appointment with a realtor and signed the lease on a new apartment (even though it's late at night), she arranges to have his stuff taken to the new pad. Then she tells him to meet her there. He thinks the place is for the family at first but no, he soon finds out that this is his place, she's leaving him and he's no longer welcome at home. She found out about him and Kalinda, she says perfectly calmly, and although she doesn't want to talk about it, she won't change her mind. Then she goes home and finally she breaks down. But not for long. She plays some loud music from her son's iPod, puts on some make-up and starts to prepare for a court case she has to argue the following day (or, a few hours later, given that it's pretty much morning). She doesn't tell Will or Kalinda about her news (although both of them must have guessed something was up from her professional but brusque tone). She just goes and kicks ass on behalf of her client.

Peter's mother Jackie tries to persuade her to change her mind (Alicia is "just being selfish") and his campaign manager Eli just wants to understand what's going on and whether it is permanent. When she tells the children their father has moved out, she breaks down again and the kids are shocked to see their calm, cool mother in such a way. Also, if anyone asks them what's going on with their parents, they have to lie, she tells them, because although the family shouldn't lie to one another, it's sometimes OK not to tell the whole truth to people who want to hurt them. Through her tears, she tries to reassure them that everything is going to be OK.

Peter tries again to reason with Alicia. He'll see a marriage counsellor, he'll resign from his newly won state's attorney position, he'll do anything she asks. But she doesn't even want to talk about it. It's amazing how quickly Peter changes from a heart-broken, begging tone to someone much crueller. "You're sleeping with Will," he says, "that's what this is about." Alicia doesn't justify this with a response but she takes her gloves off too; when Peter tells her Kalinda is blameless, she asks, "Why, did you rape her?" Exit Peter. As he leaves, Alicia makes a final, heartfelt plea: "Say something to make me fall in love with you again." But all he says is goodbye. Then we see him in his campaign office, very Al Pacino in The Devil's Advocate, telling callers he's not the same Peter Florrick any more. And when Cary, Alicia's former rival at her law firm (who was fired and went to work for the incumbent State's Attorney), comes in to find out whether his job is safe, Peter is highly ambivalent until he discovers, with devilish glee, that Cary is a nemesis of The Good Wife. You can practically hear him say, "mwahahaha," and it isn't pretty.

For The Good Wife, this is quite a lot of action for one episode (there was also Alicia's case involving a former rock chick being denied a vital organ transplant going on, of course) but so little resolution. Will Alicia ever discuss what has happened with Peter? Will she let him see how much he has hurt her? I'm hoping that in her conversations with Will and Kalinda about this will be more informative (come on, Alicia, it's OK to let people see your feelings sometimes!). Knowing this show, though, the implications of Alicia's separations for her relationship with Will might be dealt with somewhere around season five -- which is fine, although not good for people who like resolution.