Sometimes it's hard to be a woman
Giving all your love to just one man
You'll have bad times
And he'll have good times,
Doin' things that you don't understand
Giving all your love to just one man
You'll have bad times
And he'll have good times,
Doin' things that you don't understand
But if you love him you'll forgive him,
Even though he's hard to understand
And if you love him oh be proud of him,
'cause after all he's just a man
Even though he's hard to understand
And if you love him oh be proud of him,
'cause after all he's just a man
(Tammy Wynette, Stand By Your Man)
As good as the song is, the sentiment is
truly nauseating. Essentially, Wynette is shrugging her shoulders to adultery,
conceding there is nothing to be done: this is what men are like. In her
tune women are passive, waiting by the door for that wandering piece of libido
to return. Men, on the other hand, are complex – it isn’t simple selfishness
that causes them to stray, but a well of emotions that runs too deep for any
woman to ever understand.
Even though the song predates the feminist
movement, it still echoes today. Gender inequality is still rife: when a man commits adultery he is defined as ‘straying’ - women aren't granted such euphemisms. There is still the abiding theory that men aren't predisposed to monogamy, whereas women are hardwired to faithfulness. The truth is people
don’t have to follow their base instincts; they can exercise control. Just
because your cock points north doesn’t mean you have to follow it? Still today,
the patriarchy of Wynette's lyrics persist: women forgive your men for they cannot suppress the
caveman within.
In The
Good Wife Alicia Florrick has to make a decision whether she stands by her
man, Peter Florrick, or leave him. Peter is the Cook County State Attorney who
has been caught sleeping with prostitutes. There is also a suggestion that he
has been taking bribes to reduce people’s prison sentences – a charge he
denies. In the first episode he stands and faces the media’s grand jury: he
accepts the verdict of being a bad husband, but
refutes all other allegations. His wife, holding his hand, looks at him
questioningly, wondering how her husband’s rhetorical strength has
survived his moral weakness. Further questions are raised when she spots a
stray hair on her husband’s blazer – a blonde one that does not belong to him;
does not belong to her. When this trial concludes, the two are taken out of the spotlight and thrown into personal darkness.
The first episode fast-forwards six months
to Alicia’s first day at work. She has returned because her husband is in jail,
convicted of the crimes he denied. With two children to clothe, Alicia returns
to the profession she gave up to raise them. She is a legal associate, forced
to compete with Cary, a young male with few responsibilities, for the job
of becoming a full-time attorney. Despite the travails of juggling work and child-care,
she is a fantastic lawyer: personable and scrupulous, a mix that clients and colleagues admire. Cary though is fast-talking, dynamic and confident, making him a
worthy competitor to the reserved Alicia.
The conflict at work isn’t Alicia’s main
concern though. Work is an enjoyable distraction from the hard question of marriage to Peter. If anything having him in jail is a relief: it postpones the
decision she has to make. He is seemingly remorseful and chastened:
shouldn’t she stand by him? At work, she has rekindled her friendship with Will
Gardner, a university friend that now heads the legal firm – is he worth taking
her wedding ring off for?
Away from the romantic and political
intrigues of the show, the prevailing action takes place in the court room.
Every week there is a new case that Alicia must defend.
Assisting her is the enigmatic Kalinda, one of television’s great female
characters. Kalinda is an investigator who revisits the crime scene and reviews
testimony in the hope holes can be found. She is sharp, smart and sexy – and
dangerous with it. Together they make a great team, asserting the drama’s focus
on strong women. What’s fascinating about these court scenes is their attention
to detail: most legal dramas make do with ‘objection’ and ‘overruled’ as their
only nod to verisimilitude. In The Good
Wife the legal jargon is there; so too is the preparation (interviewing witnesses, gathering paperwork, pre-trial hearings, plea bargaining) – the
series trusts the viewers to pick up the language and procedure; the fact that
we do is a credit to the writing.
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Kalinda is a badass. |
The
Good Wife’s title
is ironic: Alicia begins by being the eponymous, but as the series develops she
leaves behind the scandal that has defined her. For fans of Better Call Saul it is a fantastic
companion piece: both contain lawyers trying to escape from another's shadow; admittedly the way they do it is different, but their humane charm is wholly comparable. So while Better Call Saul has us all on hold, why not dial Alicia Florrick,
a lawyer you can trust.
The
Good Wife is on Netflix.
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