Tv recap

Justified follows up the season’s best episode with its worst, because of course it does.

An uncharacteristically intimate episode examines the series’ two main romantic pairings, and uncovers some sad, troubling material in the process.

In an attempt to rebound after “The Debate,” The Good Wife overcorrects with an overfamiliar outing.

Justified: finding pathos in the strangest places.

An exceptionally entertaining hour nevertheless exposes some troubling flaws.

When it comes to planned-in-advance TV endings, in general, you can do it straight, or you can do it serpentine. Do it straight (Breaking Bad, The Wire) and you guarantee a high degree of fan contentedness, though usually at the cost of spontaneity. Do it serpentine (Lost, Battlestar Galactica, The Sopranos) and you run the risk of pissing off a large percentage of the fanbase, though you’ll have the side-benefit of being debated into eternity. On occasion, a series finds a way to split the difference and reaps incredible rewards. Justified seems destined to opt for the former route. While it’s supplied some artful twists and surprise developments in the past, it’s never been a series built on narrative trickery or hifalutin thematic development. It’s always had (at least) one foot planted firmly in the realm of traditional genre storytelling.

“Noblesse Oblige” continues to do things at its own deliberate pace, even as the end looms in the distance.

A plot-thin establishing episode reasserts the series’ considerable wit.

The Good Wife, Season 6, Episode 12: “The Debate” Written by Robert King and Michelle King Directed by Brooke Kennedy Airs Sundays at 9pm ET on CBS The Good Wife’s innate whiteness has never been in question. Its creators are white, the vast majority of its unusually large principal cast is white, and its storylines …

“Hail Mary” is a hectic, tense hour of The Good Wife, but its parts don’t quite add up to a totally satisfying whole.

The Good Wife’s latest seasonal pivot point, in which a major character apparently heads to the slammer, happens to be surrounded with a whole lot of its most broadly silly material. “The Trial” is up to a lot of things – shifting perspectives, light social commentary, romantic workplace comedy, Law & Order episode – but for the most part it manages to hold together reasonably well as an episode. If nothing else, it makes clear that the Kings have no interest in signposting just where this season is meant to be heading, except that it will continue to be defined by Alicia’s campaign and her increasingly unreliable ethical compass.

In a strong episode, Alicia and Frank Prady contrive not to play dirty, with a mixed success rate.

Though I continue to be a stalwart Good Wife devotee, one aspect of its last couple of seasons has consistently stuck in my craw, and that aspect is front and center throughout “Red Zone,” an otherwise perfectly acceptable episode. That aspect is Kalinda’s sex life.

It’s certainly true that TV is lacking for meaningful representations of characters that don’t simply conform to heteronormative mores. The fact that Kalinda has never been comfortable within a standard “coupling” (nor accepting of any labels other characters attempt to place on her sexuality) is remarkable. Unfortunately, for the many, many great and fresh character beats the series has supplied to literally almost every other character, Kalinda hasn’t had anything new to do for a very long time now. I know I prattle on about this quite often, but it’s especially glaring in “Red Zone” because Kalinda’s antics take up damn near half of the screentime, made worse by the fact that Cary is the only regular she even shares a physical space with; her interactions with Florrick Agos are limited to a shot of a conference phone. Does anyone really care if she opts to sell out her Fed girlfriend or not? Or if she and Cary will ever “go steady”? (Shudder – Kalinda’s phrase, not mine.) The only aspect of the Cary/Kalinda/Bishop axis that provides any interest this week is the notion that Cary has thoughts about Beyoncé. And we don’t even get to hear what those are.

A rare transitional episode could lead us somewhere novel – or somewhere predictable.

A relatively wobbly episode still delivers a few very strong moments.

One of the particular strengths of The Good Wife is its uncanny sense of series memory. With well over 100 episodes’ worth of long-standing character relationships, tertiary characters, and running gags to draw upon, it’s rare that a new episode comes down the pike that doesn’t reward long-time viewers, even if it’s just in a minute way. “Shiny Objects” is, on the surface, a prototypical latter-day Good Wife episode, in that it offers up a case of the week while keeping the season’s master plot humming along, but it also manages (for better and worse) to lean on several long-standing relationships and character beats to an unusual degree.

Why is Alicia Florrick running? It’s a question that comes up throughout “Oppo Research” with good reason. Ever since Eli brought up the idea in the final moments of season five, The Good Wife has been loath to give Alicia one big, whopping, obvious motivation for once again rening her life apart in pursuit of another ambitious prize. Every time she answers the question – this week most pointedly by her new campaign manager, Johnny Elfman (Steven Pasquale, erstwhile star of Do No Harm) – her response is evasive, or negative, or completely nebulous. As promised last week, the Oppo Research phase turns out to be thoroughly unpleasant and invasive, and she’s even subject to a cheap DUI setup at the hands of Castro before episode’s end. So, for real this time: why would anyone put themselves through this, especially someone already weary of being in the public eye?

Long stretches of “Dear God” feel like a throwback to old-school Good Wife.

Sometimes what’s noteworthy about The Good Wife is in what it chooses not to give us.

Five full seasons and over 100 episodes in, and The Good Wife is managing the unthinkable: it’s accelerating.

That’s what you get for cautious optimism. Justified’s fifth season finale has a lot of heavy lifting to do: it has to convince us that our time spent with the Crowes was meaningful, that Boyd’s Mexican misadventures amount to more than a diversion, that Ava’s prison scenes weren’t just a too-sadistic sojourn into tonally misaligned territory, and that Raylan’s sense of detachment this season has been leading our perpetually behatted hero somewhere new and intriguing.

Watching a season of Justified expand and contract its narrative can be a thing of beauty, even when it feels like the show isn’t necessarily at its best. “Starvation” continues down the sullen path of Season 5, a year that’s seen Raylan grow increasingly distant amidst a particularly nasty and bleak set of circumstances, but does so in a way that honors its main character’s histories and relationships. For longtime viewers, it’s a welcome sign of things likely to come. Probably.

I’ve previously remarked upon, the plots Hirst and co have put into play appear to be converging; and to it’s credit, it’s not just battle stories alone that are unfolding. Rather, tonight sees Bjorn drawn into battle alongside his father — and the determined eagerness upon Ludwig’s face feels both heart-breaking and authentic. It’s not difficult to imagine the limits Bjorn would toe in order to prove his place among the Lothbrok family — particularly given his implicit rivalry with Aslaug’s sons — nor is it difficult to imagine, after the starkly-shot battle scenes of tonight, that Hirst could take him down the road of self-sacrifice. As we’ve previously seen in the case of Gydda — and to a lesser extent, Lagertha’s abandonments of the group — no player in the Vikings community is entirely secure. Furthermore, Bjorn’s now of an age where he stands alongside the members of his family as a veritable warrior; he’s not impervious to blood or pain, no matter how Ragnar rushes to defend him when the former stumbles. There’s something particularly lovely about this moment, in among all the cinematic jostling and callous thrusting of swords that occurs during this stretch of fighting. I’d attribute this to the emotional heart Vikings occasionally excises, in favour of thrills and slick war plotting. (Similarly, Lagertha’s quick glance-over at her son, in the heat of the battle, also tugs at the heart. No matter how indomitable and icy a force Lagertha is on the battlefield, or while defending her honour, she is still ultimately human; she has those she needs to protect.)