It would be easy and not entirely incorrect to write off CBS' "The Good Wife" as, well, an old−person show. The pithy legal procedural centers on late 30− and 40−somethings, features '90s−esque hair and makeup that no millennial would dare venture near — who is plucking JuliannaMargulies' eyebrows and lining Christine Baranski's lips? — and lacks the swift pacing and relentless conflict supposedly needed to keep younger viewers hooked.
And yet, "The Good Wife," now in its third season, has more than a few things going for it that audiences of all ages can appreciate: realistic and subtle plot arcs, drama that swells with sonorous depth, passions that burn gradually and tentatively, honest struggles with ethics and morality. This is seductively sophisticated television at its finest — a 2003 cabernet in a sea of small−screenrum−and−cokes — that snares viewers with characters and storylines worthy of emotional investment. Plus, it's got Matt Czuchry, and that boy's easy on the eyes.
This season follows Alicia Florrick (Margulies), a skilled lawyer and mother of two, in the wake of her recent separation from Peter (Chris North), her cheating husband and former Cook County state's attorney. In Peter's absence, Alicia has embarked on a hush−hush affair with her boss, Will Gardner (Josh Charles), whose effortless charm earns him his title as one of Chicago's most eligible bachelors. As Peter's jealousy worms its way into his work life, he and his office toy with Will's rumored indiscretions, threatening to drag Will and his firm, Lockhart Gardner, into ruin.
For two seasons, viewers have watched Will and Alicia tiptoe through an undeniably hot pas de deux of attraction and denial. A lesser show might be tempted to blow the couple's newfound romance to IMAX proportions, but the show runners of "The Good Wife" — if not its cringe−inducing stylists — seem to know that less is more. Though Will and Alicia's conversations at work allude to their after−hours activities with the utmost calmness, each conversation between the two has the air of an ellipsis — a lingering to−be−continued, promising that even if we're deprived of certain voyeuristic pleasures, Alicia's definitely getting use of the lacy unmentionables her snooping mother−in−law digs out of her laundry hamper.
The show falters on its admirably muted depiction of Alicia's increasingly sexual character on one small but annoying front. To ensure no one forgets that the Emmy−winningMargulies is sexy or that her character is turning out to be a not−so−good wife after all, she's been rocking crimson power suits all season long. Thank you to whichever "Good Wife" producer saw fit to craft a modern day scarlet letter for the working woman.
So far this season, Will and Alicia's relationship mostly fringes the show's central storyline, which alternates its focus between Lockhart and Gardner's cases, friction between Lockhart Gardner and the state's attorney's office — which employs not only Peter, but also Cary Agos (Czuchry), a former Lockhart Gardner partner who resents Alicia for taking his job — and the state of Alicia's family in the wake of her separation from Peter's.
However, in Nov. 20's "Whisky Tango Foxtrot," the independent arc of Will and Alicia's bad romance becomes a nail−biting narrative linchpin. In one arresting scene, Will and Diane Lockhart (Baranski), the firm's other title partner, spit and scowl through a tense confrontation about the damaging intra−office affair. Fearing Peter Florrick's influence, Diane orders Will — with a pitch−perfect range of authority and sympathy from the stunningly talented Baranski — to stop sleeping with a married man's wife, leaving him indignantly but guiltily silent.
These are heavy threads, and "The Good Wife" would flounder without the wry doses of levity that Eli Gold (Alan Cumming) introduces. Eli, whose winning bluntness and tendency to view himself as the rising and setting sun recall "Entourage's" (2004−2011) Ari Gold, once managed Peter's campaign for state's attorney and currently works under Lockhart Gardner's umbrella as a political consultant. Though Eli's job involves tackling decidedly ridiculous scenarios — one day, he enters the cutthroat arena of cheese and fruit lobbying; another day, he mitigates the release of a damning old photograph, in which a politician is doing something to a Santa Claus statue that's sure to land him on the naughty list — Eli treats his work with the utmost seriousness, which, of course, is our cue to crack up and place the contrived spectacles in perspective.
In fact, both the artfully unfolding romantic drama and Cumming's deadpan performance encompass what makes "The Good Wife" such a worthy program. In this season, which is at least as mature and sincere as the two preceding it, "The Good Wife" continues to avoid taking itself too seriously, resulting in a refreshingly grounded and self−aware hour of television.
