The Good Wife

The CBS drama releases sexual tension -- and confirms that it's network TV's best directed show

By Matt Zoller Seitz

"Breaking Up"--Alicia (Julianna Margulies) and Will (Josh Charles) face a moral dilemma when they must try to turn a clientâs son against his girlfriend, who are both accused of murder on THE GOOD WIFE, Tuesday, Jan. 11 (10:00-11:00 PM, ET/PT) on the CBS Television Network. Photo: John Paul Filo/CBS Â©2010 CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved. (Credit: John Paul Filo)

Topics:The Good Wife, Television

There are plenty of reasons to watch CBS’ “The Good Wife” — sharp writing; unfussy acting; a savvy sense of what it’s like to be a jaded political animal in Chicago — but for me, it’s mainly about the filmmaking. Last night’s season finale “Closing Arguments” (spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t watched yet!) reminded me of why I fell in love with this show in the first place, and why I continue to watch it even when its ripped-from-the-headlines plots feel labored and its workplace soap opera tangents become too, well, soapy. Like the series as a whole, this episode — directed by series co-creator Robert King, and co-written with his wife and collaborator Michelle King — is old fashioned in the best sense. Every scene is written, acted and directed with maximum intelligence and minimum fuss.

Just look at the final act — the sequence in which the show’s heroine, the lawyer and scandalized political wife Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies) and her co-worker and former law school classmate Will Gardner (Josh Charles) celebrate the successful conclusion of a high-profile murder case by getting a room and consummating two seasons’ worth of sexual tension. The “Will they or won’t they?” thing is an innately predictable and tedious TV gimmick (though damn near foolproof if you like the actors). But the episode knocks the dust off the moment by staging the run-up to the tryst with world-weary reticence and visual flair.

The sequence takes a banal part of the modern landscape — sliding elevator doors — and makes them expressive. I love how the scene is shot with a long lens so that the doors are abstracted; they whoosh across the screen, creating an effect similar to an old-fashioned horizontal wipe in a silent film. The movement of the doors also fragments what was obviously a long, awkward trip to the presidential suite ($7,800 a night? These people have too much money), an interlude that gave Alicia and Will time to second-guess their decision to sleep together; there’s no actual conversation, just stray words here and there. The blurred, close-up motion of the doors also reminded me of a still camera’s iris opening and closing — a visual effect that’s often added to scenes in thrillers where a private investigator does surveillance on an unsuspecting couple. That climactic exchange of close-ups — Alicia taking the door key away from the flustered Will and using it correctly — was perfectly played by Margulies and Charles; it’s spot-on for “The Good Wife,” a show populated by emotionally constipated, upper-middle-class people who live in the public eye, and are forever on guard against having their private lives turned into public entertainment. And that last shot of the entire sequence was perfection: they go in the room and shut the door, and the camera glides back and swings left, bringing the long, empty hall into view.

If this show were a 1950s movie, it wouldn’t have played any moment of this sequence any differently. Its relaxed, slightly analytical style illustrates why “The Good Wife” is a hit that crosses generational lines. The sequence is sexy not because it shows sex, but because the whole, complex exchange is shot and acted with delicacy and imagination. It’s a little touch of Wong-Kar Wai on a CBS drama about uptight lawyers and politicians.

The rest of the episode was strong, too. I liked the race-against-the-clock plotline, with Will stalling the judge in hopes that his team could deliver DNA tests on a previously missing, bloody glove and exonerate his client in a murder trial. And there were seven, maybe eight scenes so exquisitely performed that you could show them in an acting seminar titled, “This is how you do it.” I was especially fond of the scene between Will and Alicia’s ruthless husband Peter (the terrific Chris Noth, who has yet to sentimentalize this controlling, deeply selfish man), and that marvelous bit where political operator Eli Gold (Alan Cumming) tells Diane Lockhart (Christine Baranski) that he’s looking to set up his consulting business in-house, and is offering the firm the chance to “vie” for his services. (If there were a special Emmy for outstanding use of the pregnant pause, Baranski’s delivery of the line, “And why do we warrant this … largess?” would win it.)

And from week to week, the show is uncannily centered, rarely playing even outlandish moments in an off-key way. Even bad stuff is often rescued, or at least made tolerable, by smart acting and filmmaking. (I was skeptical of the revelation that Archie Panjabi’s ace investigator Kalinda slept with Peter until Kalinda confirmed it, in that icewater-veined way of hers: “I slept with him once. That’s what I do.”) I can’t agree with the Onion A/V Club writer Todd VanDerWerff’s assertion that “The Good Wife” is a worthy successor to “The Wire.” (That would be “Treme,” if anything — and besides, “The Good Wife” sticks mainly to white folks with money, where David Simon’s HBO shows are demographic layer cakes.) Still, the show should not be underestimated. It’s a series by and about grown-ups, interspersing big moments with small, good things.

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How “The Good Wife” became one of TV’s best shows

Julianna Margulies' CBS legal series is a nuanced, dynamic throwback to old-school storytelling

By Matt Zoller Seitz

"Last Shot"--Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies) assists in the trial of ballistics expert Kurt McVeigh, Dianeâs on and off-again love interest, who is being sued for testimony that he gave in a murder trial of an accused cop killer who was recently exonerated, on THE GOOD WIFE, Tuesday, Feb. 22 (10:00-11:00 PM, ET/PT) on the CBS Television Network. Photo: David M. Russell/CBS Â©2011 CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved. (Credit: David M. Russell)

Topics:The Good Wife, Our Picks, TV, Television

Chicago attorney Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies), the heroine of “The Good Wife,” isn’t one of those scenery-chewing human dynamo characters who often anchor network dramas. If you saw her in a crowd and didn’t recognize her as the embattled wife of a disgraced Cook County state’s attorney Peter Florrick (Chris Noth), you might not form any immediate impression beyond the fact that she was attractive, elegant and watchful. She’s the sort of person who never speaks just for the sake of speaking; she reads the room first, and probably makes a mental flow chart to remind herself of who’s powerful and who’s not, and what consequences might accrue if she’s too familiar with this person or that person. That’s not a sign of timidity; it’s a life skill. Alicia acquired it from being a politician’s wife, a lawyer and a woman — though not necessarily in that order. She’s fascinating — a plausibly real woman in a medium dominated by bigger-than-life caricatures, and the focal point of the most nuanced and intelligent drama on network TV.

Created by Robert and Michelle King, “The Good Wife,” which is midway through its second season, isn’t what network executives or TV critics would call a “buzz” show; it’s not the sort of series that inspires detailed next-day recaps and comments threads with a hundred entries. Like so many shows on CBS — a network that made a commitment to old-fashioned, frankly rather square programs about a decade ago, when the major broadcasters were falling all over themselves to produce sex-and-violence-packed, heavily serialized, PG-rated rip-offs of “The Sopranos” and “Six Feet Under” – it’s a series that splits the difference between serialized, novel-for-television-type storytelling and one-offs. It has an umbrella — the story of Alicia putting her life back together after her husband’s disgrace in a corruption and infidelity scandal, then reluctantly getting involved in his bid for reelection. But you don’t have to know anything about that to jump into the series, because the individual episodes stick to the standard crime-and-legal-show template, following Alicia and her colleagues at a prestigious law firm as they represent clients in all sorts of cases — everything from class-action lawsuits against polluters and negligent railways companies to private citizens accused of felony offenses and whistle-blowers calling foul on corrupt businesses and government agencies.

But this description doesn’t quite capture the sneaky excellence of “The Good Wife,” which pays closer attention to the minute details of human interaction than almost any network drama you can name. For a star-packed, glossily produced CBS series that isn’t trying to reinvent the dramatic wheel, “The Good Wife” is a remarkably uncompromised work. Although the timelines are necessarily compressed (a lawsuit that would normally take months or years to play out gets resolved within the hour), the series has yet to show us a single event or character that could not exist in reality. And the carefully tended environment, with its intricate network of individual and institutional relationships, gives the show a more dense, lived-in feel than network dramas typically provide. Imagine Tom Wolfe’s “The Bonfire of the Vanities” without the hysteria.

On so many shows built around a workplace, you get the sense that there is no world beyond the law firm or the courthouse or the emergency room or wherever — that the place where the hero or heroine works is the center of the universe, and that the rest of reality flows in and out of its front doors. “The Good Wife” doesn’t just resist that kind of reflexive narcissism, it rejects it outright. Alicia’s law firm is a hothouse environment — the show does a very good job of establishing the low-key but high-pressure dynamics of a prominent law firm, where people try to appear relaxed, sensitive and classy while secretly jockeying for the best position and the biggest payday possible — but we’re always aware that it’s not the only reality. Other hothouses keep intersecting and overlapping with it: the law firms and consulting companies that assist or compete with Alicia’s employers; the political machines of the affable but exceptionally ruthless Peter Florrick and his nemesis, prosecutor Glenn Childs (Titus Welliver, in his best performance and most interesting character since “Deadwood”); and the Chicago-area media, which periodically release unsavory bits of information that affect politics, the law and public life in general.

The series understands how news organizations can be used as weapons, and how they knowingly allow themselves to be used as weapons. Nearly every episode has a moment where Florrick’s campaign or Alicia’s case-of-the-week are thrown into a tizzy by the suspiciously timed release of a damaging revelation (sometimes accurate, sometimes false or heavily manipulated). The next step is always to play detective and ask, Who stands to benefit from this, and how can we neutralize its impact? The news reports are just the most visible manifestation of the show’s belief that information is power: Whether the end goal is to win an election or a case, the battle is usually decided by one side’s ability to dig up, tease out or otherwise own a particular fact that the other side doesn’t have — or counter one bit of information or one powerful image with another.

Some of the best subplots this year have revolved around a third candidate for the state’s attorney job, Wendy Scott-Carr (Anika Noni-Rose), an African-American woman. An episode last fall had Wendy battling accusations that she had a breast augmentation procedure, which seemed to contradict her posture as a champion of society’s dispossessed; it turned out she was a Stage 2 breast cancer survivor who’d had a double mastectomy (which happens to be the case with the real-life Rose). In “The Silly Season,” an excellent episode that aired earlier this month, Peter Florrick’s campaign tried to stir up African-American resentment against Wendy by circulating a flier with a picture of her smooching her white husband and a caption suggesting that because she married a white man, she wasn’t truly black. The scene where Wendy confronted Alicia about the flier — and threatened to release a counter-smear against her husband, who paid for an abortion for their teenage son’s girlfriend — showcased one of the series’ greatest strengths: its facility for showing how women sometimes deal with crises by appealing to other women’s sense of solidarity as women (and mothers, and wives), only to discover that the invisible-sisterhood angle will only get you so far. Margulies’ performance in this scene was masterful; you could see Alicia weighing her emotional solidarity with Wendy, and her innate sense of decency, against the need to stand with her husband in an anything-goes political battle. As Childs told Rose, “We could have chosen to go into the aluminum siding business, but we didn’t. We chose politics.” (And I haven’t even gotten into one of the most interesting aspects of this episode — the fact that much of it was told from the point of view of Matt Czuchry’s Cary, the young lawyer that Alicia beat out last year for the position of junior associate at the firm, and who subsequently jumped ship and started working for the state’s attorney’s office.)

The show’s first season was quite strong, and I don’t think it has flagged much in its sophomore year, despite some predictable plot twists (Peter moving back in with Alicia, Alicia winning a spot at the firm as a junior associate after 13 years out of the courtroom) and a wearying familiar rhythm to the legal stories. The courtroom stuff is well-done but far from earthshaking; the details may be fresh, but you’ve seen the basic template a million times. The real draw is the scene-to-scene development of Alicia, who’s written and performed with impressive concentration and insight. Margulies has a gentleness and opacity that reads as blankness at first (a good quality for a leading character, but one that’s easy to denigrate as woodenness). It’s only when you look back over the entire run of the show that you start to appreciate the full range of Alicia’s evolution. In the pilot episode she was a damaged person with a scared-rabbit look; it seemed as though she had to summon immense will just to speak. She’s stronger and livelier now, but there’s still a wariness and watchfulness that comes from having her dirty laundry aired in public.

We also get a strong sense that Alicia (and other major female characters) are keenly aware of how age and beauty affect women’s prospects and sense of self-worth. The series is very good about slipping insightful point-of-view shots into otherwise expository scenes — moments where Alicia notices how a man in the room is looking at her, or at another woman, or how two women are quietly sizing each other up, measuring each other physically while perhaps silently cursing themselves for succumbing to that instinct. Whether Alicia is bantering with the firm’s chief investigator, Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi), flirting with her old college classmate turned mentor Will Gardner (Josh Charles) or trying to please and impress Will’s fellow senior partner Diane Lockhart (the incomparable Christine Baranski), you can sense the calculations beneath the easygoing facade — the resentment at Peter for derailing her professional life and temporarily decimating her personal life, then trapping her into supporting him; her annoyance at herself for feeling attracted to Peter anyway, partly because of the weight of their shared history; her fear that that the wrong word, the wrong move, could set her back again. She felt powerless after her husband’s scandal; the true narrative of the series is about Alicia recovering her dignity, and patiently constructing a mental and emotional fortress that will prevent it from being taken from her again.

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Emmy nominations: Who got snubbed?

Thank goodness Conan beat out Leno -- but what about "True Blood's" acting stars and "Modern Family's" big papa?

By Christine Mathias

Ed O'Neill from "Modern Family" and Nelsan Ellis from "True Blood."

Topics:Emmy Awards, 30 Rock, ABC, Alec Baldwin, American Idol, Breaking Bad, CBS, Dexter, Friday Night Lights, Glee, HBO, Jon Hamm, LGBT, Lost, Mad Men, Modern Family, NBC, Reality TV, The Good Wife, The Office, Tina Fey, True Blood, Television

Joel McHale and Sofia Vergara aren’t a bad way to wake up at 5:30, what with the boobs and the height and the funny, but it’d be nice if a distinctly West Coast medium like television could have the decency to operate on a more humane West Coast time. Please.

That said, I was pleasantly surprised a few times with the 2010 Emmy nominations, and was, per usual, irritated just as often. Tony Shalhoub, again, for real? (eye roll) “Two and a Half Men” taking up valuable space in any category? (bigger eye roll) And why Aaron Paul of “Breaking Bad” didn’t submit his reel in the lead actor category is confounding and shameful — Bryan Cranston is, arguably, the star of that show but this was Paul’s year. His performance as the now-sober meth cooker Jesse Pinkman was, in a word, eviscerating.

But plenty of awesome rose from the ashes of the “eh” this morning. I was fairly certain I heard Triumph the Insult Comic Dog poop on Jay Leno’s “Tonight Show” when Conan O’Brien’s version got the nod for outstanding variety, music, or comedy series. The entire main cast of “Modern Family” submitted their names in the supporting categories, and it paid off for almost everyone. The supporting actor in a comedy field is 66 percent gay, or acting gay, with nominations for Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet (“Modern Family”) Neil Patrick Harris, and Chris Colfer from “Glee,” which was one of the most surprising and delightful developments of the morning. Add to that NPH’s guest star nomination for playing has-been Bryan Ryan on the Fox musical, Jane Lynch’s double nominations (Sue Sylvester, of course, and a guest spot on “Two and a Half Men,”) and the nom for Ian McKellen’s turn as Number 2 in the otherwise-dreadful AMC “Prisoner” remake, and you get a better-than-usual representation of the LGBT community this year. We were also spared, thankfully, the torture of Charlie Sheen being nominated. As for the rest…

Today’s big winners:

“Glee.” Lea Michele and Matthew Morrison were recognized as lead actors, Jane Lynch and Chris Colfer were deservedly recognized, and the show itself is up for best comedy, among 19 total nominations.

Funny women: Tina Fey and Amy Poehler will go head-to-head in the lead actress in a comedy group, and Kristen Wiig is up for her myriad memorable “SNL” characters in the supporting actress category. That girl is gold, and deserves it, but Jane Lynch will be tough to beat — Sue Sylvester would chop Gilly into little tiny pieces and blend her in a smoothie.

“Lost.” I felt that series finale, “The End,” while poignant and worthy of seven hankies, wasn’t quite on the level of the series premiere, “LAX,” since I much prefer the bafflement, but Matthew Fox’s portrayal of Jack Shephard was impeccable, and I’d love to see him take home the lead actor trophy. Terry O’Quinn could’ve taught a master class in menacing eyebrows, and belongs at the top of the supporting field, and Michael Emerson (last year’s winner) is right there with him. The best drama series nomination was welcome, and if “Lost” wins, it’ll be emphatic validation for an oft-derided yet fervently loved program.

“Friday Night Lights.” This show about high school football in Texas has been operating under the “underrated” mantle for so long it almost seemed like it would go the way of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” with rabid critical praise but no Emmy love to shore it up. And while there was no room in the crowded best drama series group (“True Blood,” “Mad Men,” “Breaking Bad,” “Lost,” “Dexter” and “The Good Wife” sucked all the air out of the room), lead actors Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton were given a chance to represent their show, even though Chandler’s chances are between slim and pigs-will-fly-out-of-my-butt. He’s up against Bryan Cranston, Jon Hamm, Hugh Laurie, Michael C. Hall and Matthew Fox — although it’d be a bookie-immolating upset if he did take the trophy home.

The women of “Mad Men.” January Jones is up for lead actress, and Betty Draper’s complete and total meltdown last season was a study in human-being-as-pressure-cooker. Elisabeth Moss and Christina Hendricks are both in the running for their supporting roles, and their diametrically opposed character arcs make for a lively comparison. Peggy slept with a rival, gained confidence in the workplace and generally found her voice, while Joan Harris (nee Holloway) thought she had it all figured out by marrying a doctor and playing Holly Homemaker until she saw the monster she was in bed with and had her idea of “perfect” get its ears boxed.

Today’s big snubs :

Josh Holloway. Sawyer’s arc in the first half of “Lost” this season was wrenching to watch, the complete undoing of a man who lost the love of his life, and Holloway was never, ever better. A terrible oversight.

“True Blood.” Yeah, it’s great that the series was nominated for best drama, but not one actor stood out enough to garner an individual nomination? Are you kidding me? Nelsan Ellis alone should have a shelf weighed down with accolades. Boo.

Ed O’Neill. The actor-formerly-known-as-Al-Bundy seems to be carrying quite the Emmy curse on his back — he’s arguably the star of “Modern Family,” yet he was the only one who didn’t get nominated for his work as the grumpy patriarch. O’Neill’s gruffness and good-old-boy back slapping as Jay Pritchett successfully masks his creamy center, and after 10 Emmy-less years on “Married With Children,” well, it’s looking like someone’s got a voodoo doll with his face on it.

Watch NBC on Aug. 29 to see how this all turns out, but please consider the “Breaking Bad” video I’ve included here before you believe a single prediction that doesn’t include Aaron Paul pillaging the awards. It’s the last scene of the captivating third season, and you must watch the whole thing (the setup — Bryan Cranston’s character is in steaming heap of trouble with his meth distributor, who is about to replace him permanently with another chemist):

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The best and worst of the new TV season

"Modern Family" springs forward, "FlashForward" falls back, plus "Bored to Death" and "The Good Wife" outperform

By Heather Havrilesky

Still from "Modern Family"

Topics:Modern Family, I Like to Watch, Cougar Town, Flash Forward, Glee, The Good Wife, Television

New TV shows usually suck. Take it from someone who watches every single one of them, every single year. Slogging through a herd of untested pilots can feel like speed dating for speed freaks: Twitchy people tell you their life stories in three seconds flat — they laugh, they cry, they knock over their drinks, stuff blows up, ambulances arrive, roll credits. You’re lucky if you escape without a migraine, let alone a venereal disease.

But this year was different. Watching this fall’s new shows was like wandering through a magical bar filled with charismatic, funny people and delicious, icy-cold cocktails. Great music was playing, the mood was spirited, and everyone had a charming or poignant or funny anecdote to tell. As long as you stayed away from the ones wearing scrubs and surgical masks — oh yeah, and the bony, Botoxed cougars — you were sure to have a great time.

The life of the party this fall is ABC’s “Modern Family.” In a sea of attractive and witty guests, spewing quips and tossing back drinks, “Modern Family” (9 p.m. Wednesdays on ABC) is that unnervingly funny guy in the corner whose jokes keep making your mojito blast out of your nose. I’ve been waiting for this show to falter or underwhelm for weeks now, and each episode has been better than the last. Ty Burrell is consistently hysterical as hapless, pandering dad Phil. Here he is in one of my favorite scenes from the pilot:

Along with Burrell, Manny (Rico Rodriguez) — that’s Jay’s (Ed O’Neill) kid — is an unexpectedly hilarious character (loved the scene where he stroked his fake goatee when considering avenging the kids that drew it on his face), and every episode ends on just the right note. Yes, we saw it coming when Phil’s teenage daughter’s boyfriend, Dylan (Reid Ewing), sang a sweet love song that turned raunchy. But how great was that song? And then ending with the whole family, humming “I just wanna do you, do you” to themselves as they brushed their teeth or got ready for school? Brilliant. I love the dramatic choices by the excellent writers of this show, I love the little touches thrown in by this incredible cast (Eric Stonestreet as chubby, earnest Cameron makes me laugh out loud every single time he’s on-screen), and really, I’m just in awe of “Modern Family.” If you’re not watching this show, you’re nuts.

All of which stands in sharp contrast with another ABC show that I chose as one of the best new shows of the fall. If only I’d had a “FlashForward” to how mediocre this serial drama would become, I would’ve stopped watching weeks ago. From the lead character, Mark Benford (Joseph Fiennes), to his doctor wife Olivia (Sonja Walger) to his partner Demetri Noh (John Cho), this show is crowded with flat characters, and the story transformed from an eerie big bang of a pilot into a big sopping mess of nothingness in a few short (but seemingly endless) episodes.

It’s astonishing to me that ABC could compare this show to “Lost” and then do so little to develop its characters over the first few weeks. What stands in for real character traits, back story and nuanced flaws on “FlashForward” (8 p.m. Thursdays) are cartoonish details like “He has a drinking problem” (Mark) and “She’s a dedicated doctor, mother and wife” (Olivia). My favorite, though, is Demetri, who is somehow interesting because he’s in love with his fiancée and he’s going to die soon. He and his lady Zoey (Gabrielle Union) spend their time smiling sweetly at each other, which tells us zero about them, while Demetri tries not to harsh Zoey’s premarital bliss with the nasty omens that he’ll soon be dead.

Oh, and by the way? “He’ll soon be dead!” isn’t character development either, nor is it a hefty foreshadowing element when you don’t know who Demetri is in the first place. Aaron (Brian F. O’Byrne) is still gloomily worrying about his daughter (whom we also know nothing about), Olivia’s doctor friend Bryce (Zachary Knighton) has a new lease on life, but we don’t completely understand why he was suicidal in the first place, and Nicole (Peyton List) is depressed about her vision of being drowned, but secretly, we can’t wait until she’s attacked because all she does now is wander around like a sullen model badly in need of a psychotropic intervention.

This is the trouble with pilots that have a powerfully creepy premise — what if everyone on Earth blacked out at the same time, and had a vision of the future? — along with lots of conflict and panic and exploding stuff in the first episode. All of the real drama is frontloaded, and then the rest of the series feels like slow-motion denouement. Unless the writers happen to have a really smart story to tell — and, let’s face it, writers who create an entire show around a premise this flashy aren’t typically all that fond of subtlety or character development — the whole thing is destined to fizzle before we come close to solving the central mystery.

I should’ve known better. The damage is done! “FlashForward” is the third most popular new show this fall, according to Nielsen, based on average ratings over the first four weeks on the air. In case you’re wondering, CBS’s “NCIS: LA” is first (personally, I’m indifferent to “NCIS” and its soon-to-be-countless spinoffs), CBS’s “The Good Wife” is second (a great new drama, explored in more detail here, that richly deserves the attention), ABC’s “Modern Family” is fourth (Hurray!) and ABC’s “Cougar Town” is fifth (Oof). Not surprisingly, ABC has picked up all three of these shows for full seasons, along with the alternately amusing and tone-deaf Patricia Heaton sitcom “The Middle.”

Aside from Courteney Cox and her chafing stampede of screeching harpies, you have to hand it to ABC. And it’s great to know so early in the season that an excellent show like “Modern Family” and a promising show like “The Middle” will both be around for a while.

Which shows won’t be around? All of the new medical dramas seemed to be on life support this fall, from NBC’s flashy but blunt EMT dud “Trauma” to NBC’s mercilessly self-righteous nurse drama “Mercy” to CBS’s stomach-churningly bad organ-donor soap “Three Rivers.” Nonetheless, “Mercy” unexpectedly won its time slot last week, so those tireless nurses are likely to keep wagging fingers at cartoonishly self-concerned doctors for a little longer.

Just in case you care (which seems unlikely), the CW’s “The Beautiful Life” was the first pilot to be officially canceled, taken out at the knees after just two pretty but empty episodes.

As far as older shows go, Fox’s “Dollhouse” has been getting horrible ratings, even with a bump from DVR viewing, which is disappointing because the series has been smart and transfixing lately despite consistently lukewarm performances by Eliza Dushku. (Can’t someone just give Joss Whedon a blank check to create his own show without strings attached? What, the TV industry doesn’t work that way? Why not?) In other confusing, “What were they thinking?” news, NBC’s promising cop drama “Southland” was given the ax before even a single episode of its second season could air, presumably because Leno has razed the 10 p.m. time slot on that network with his slow, lumbering reign of terror. NBC is really suffering from its crappy decisions this fall.

But as long as NBC keeps its new comedy “Community” (8 p.m. Thursdays) around, I won’t be complaining — at least not for another few seconds. “Community” is still hilarious and has more than enough absurd moments per episode to keep me watching. Joel McHale’s character isn’t all that interesting, because he’s too busy mooning over Britta (Gillian Jacobs), but the others are great, from Abed’s (Danny Pudi) alien hoax to Chevy Chase’s deadpan confused retiree to Senor Chang’s (Ken Jeong) unraveling mental health, showcased in this clip:

Scenes like that one leave “Community” battling it out for the second-best new comedy of the fall against HBO’s “Bored to Death” (9:30 p.m. Sundays) and Fox’s “Glee” (9 p.m. Wednesdays). “Glee,” which has been picked up for a full season, balances some recent lackluster music numbers with consistently great scenes featuring sadistic cheerleading coach Sue (Jane Lynch), while “Bored to Death,” which is already lining up a second season, continues to amuse, mostly thanks to priceless moments featuring Zach Galifianakis and Ted Danson.

So let’s raise our glasses to the best fall season of TV in years! Keep the music blasting, the laughter roaring and the free drinks flowing as long as you can, network and cable overlords, because on TV, the good times can only last for so long. Here’s to keeping the magic alive a little longer — or at least as long as it takes for Dylan on “Modern Family” to pen another sleazy love song.

: Heather Havrilesky is Salon's TV critic and author of the rabbit blog. Her memoir, "Disaster Preparedness," published in 2010. More Heather Havrilesky

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So your marriage is like an inflamed bunion

Whose isn't? On "The Good Wife" and "Dexter," rotten betrothals make for great drama

By Heather Havrilesky

Julianna Margulies from CBS' The Good Wife and Michael C. Hall from Showtime's Dexter

Topics:The Good Wife, Dexter, I Like to Watch, CBS, Coupling, Divorce, Television

Marriage is like an inflamed bunion. It requires a lot of care and attention, but all it does is make you itch and wince in return. You can never get away from it, but you can’t touch it as often as you want to, either. You’re not supposed to ignore it, but if you look too closely at it, it’ll only make you nervous.

The pain and the inflammation might be uncomfortable, but that’s what tells you it’s healing! Either that, or a deadly infection is coursing throughout your entire body, poised and ready to kill you.

Quiet as a spouse
Being a good spouse isn’t easy. We’re supposed to be honest at all times, except when it’s more prudent to lie. We’re supposed to communicate openly, except when it’s better to bite our tongues. We’re supposed to be supportive and affectionate, except when our honey pie is vaguely repulsed by the sight of us and needs a little breathing room. We’re supposed to be utterly committed to our sugar dumpling’s happiness, except when that happiness requires half a bottle of Jack Daniels, an eight ball of fine Colombian, and a one-way ticket to Monte Carlo.

If being a good spouse is tough under normal circumstances, how do you continue to show your loyalty and support when you’ve been publicly humiliated and betrayed? That’s the question Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies) of “The Good Wife” (10 p.m. Tuesdays on CBS) finds herself asking in the wake of her husband’s political scandal. Peter (Chris Noth) was an Illinois state’s attorney with a secret taste for girls on the side (but don’t you sort of expect as much when you marry Mr. Big?) who left his wife and two teenage kids reeling when he was arrested and sent to jail on corruption charges. Alicia was taken by surprise, but she stood by Peter’s side, looking resolute, as he announced his resignation from office. Margulies is very good at looking resolute, which makes this picture, repeated so often in recent years, worthwhile in spite of its redundancy.

But will Alicia’s story reflect the typical media trajectory? The press usually starts out by portraying the wives of womanizing politicians as victims (Elizabeth Edwards during her baby-gate book tour), then they end up sniffing around for her tragic flaws (Hillary Clinton when the Lewinsky scandal was going down). Finally, the rabble joins in, pestering and shaming these women until divorce looks like the only possible way to save face.

Either way, though, we usually end up viewing these wives as survivors (Hillary Clinton today). Whether or not they stand by their men to the very end is often beside the point: It’s how they stand by their men – what they say about it, what they tell their kids, how they get on with their lives – that makes the difference.

It’s no wonder that ultimately, most of us have a lot of sympathy for the loyal, scorned wife. She’s the ultimate underdog – a woman who bought into the dream of happily ever after with a charmer of a man, only to find herself confronted with a very different picture, all while the world points and jeers.

Even so, “The Good Wife” isn’t as melodramatic as you might guess. This is the kind of story that might feature lots of teary-eyed visits to the prison, shouted accusations, and layers upon layers of ugliness unveiled. Instead, “The Good Wife” focuses closely on Alicia’s attempts to build a life for herself and her children and to sally forth with dignity despite the sounds of snickering wherever she goes.

Alicia is forced to take an entry-level law position at the firm of an old friend, a great narrative choice that demonstrates just how dramatic it is to find yourself starting over at middle-age – and a great way to remind us what a big decline in status this woman has endured. On a less nuanced drama Alicia would’ve founded a law firm singlehandedly, or become an immediate star and senior partner at an established firm. Instead, Alicia is competing for a job with Cary (Matt Czuchry) a 20-something guy who’s single, has no kids, and is willing to work 60-hour weeks to win the position.

Cary is also willing to bend the truth in order to make himself look good, of course, contrasting nicely with Alicia’s quiet dignity and stubborn adherence to principle. And who better than witty, demonic Christine Baranski to play Alicia’s foe at the firm, with Will (Josh Charles of “Sports Night”) as her old friend and advocate?

“The Good Wife” proves itself much richer than a typical law procedural, thanks to the richness of its premise and the quality of storytelling demonstrated in the first four episodes. Each week the show is both intriguing and satisfying, as we watch Alicia piece together little victories while comforting her kids and confronting lurking demons from her old life. Despite the usual familiar courtroom shenanigans, the show’s full, multilayered episodes keep us interested.

Seeing Margulies in this role reminds me of her great performance in the premiere episode of “ER,” where Nurse Hathaway returned to her job in the wake of her suicide attempt. Margulies has a real knack for embodying this sort of down-but-not-out, straightforward self-possession. Something in her self-restraint and her quiet anger makes us want her to win.

The scenes with Noth, though infrequent, are particularly powerful. Instead of shouting, Alicia generally plays along with Peter’s delusions but draws the line when he tells her that everything might soon go back to the way it was. Alicia needs for him to understand that this is wishful thinking, that nothing will ever be the same. In last week’s episode, the extreme disconnect in perception between Alicia and her husband became even clearer during a particularly tense visit:

Peter: Are you having fun? That’s the most important thing.

Alicia: Fun is Disneyland.

Peter: Well, I’m glad you’re making a life for yourself. It gives you a break from this whole … situation.

Noth is the perfect actor to deliver such an arrogant line, as if Alicia’s career and struggle to raise her kids by herself is just an amusing diversion from the nightmare that he created. Just as Alicia looks ready to set him straight with a few sharp words, his lawyer interrupts – he’s been sitting a few feet away the whole time, which explains the polite smiles Alicia uses to mask her rage.

But even when they’re alone on the phone, Peter and Alicia have trouble connecting. Neither of them really knows how to feel, what to say, or whether they’ll be together once the dust settles.

The tension of an unresolved shattering of a marriage – it’s a nice energy to build a show around. And after four episodes, it’s clear that the show’s creators, husband-and-wife team Robert and Michelle King, want to tell a subtle, thoughtful story. “The Good Wife” is worth tracking for this reason alone.

After all, if marriage is an inflamed bunion, then a marriage damaged by a political scandal is a gangrenous limb. Will Alicia stand by her man, or will she resort to the emergency amputation of a high-profile divorce? Stay tuned to find out!

‘Til death do us part
But what if you have to live a double life and cover your tracks, because your spouse would dump you in a heartbeat if she knew who you really were?

This is Dexter Morgan’s dilemma in the fourth season of Showtime’s “Dexter” (10 p.m. Sundays). Having married his longtime sweetheart Rita at the end of last season, Dexter must come to terms with a whole new life trying to balance the demands of marriage and family against a busy job and the hectic extracurricular schedule of a serial killer.

Naturally, Dexter is finding it more than a little challenging to wake up at night with his new baby, answer the demands of his new wife, and serve as a reasonably decent stepfather to his two older children while holding down his job as a blood splatter analyst for the Miami Police Department. Earlier this season, Dexter’s precarious homicidal apple cart was toppled when he fell asleep on the way home from killing a bad, bad man and crashed his car. He suffered a concussion in the crash, and at first he couldn’t remember where he hid the body. Did it topple out of the trunk of his car? Was he going to be dragged off to jail at any minute? It’s easy to see why so few serial killers successfully raise families of their own.

Well, the fact that they’re homicidal lunatics probably has something to do with it, too. But then, this is the beauty – or the ugliness? – of “Dexter”: After a while, you start to forget that the lead character is even a bad guy – most of the time, anyway.

That’s because, aside from his unfortunate habit of murdering murderers, Dexter is just like many of us on a bad day: He feels alienated at work functions and neighborhood barbecues. The whole concept of marriage and family sends a shiver down his spine. The values that lend other people’s lives meaning just confuse and embarrass him.

“The danger of community is that the people who don’t belong are looked upon with suspicion,” Dexter tells us in a voiceover, as he surveys a backyard cookout with a grim look on his face. “Those of us who prefer to work by ourselves, the lone wolves, risk being singled out. So I become an expert at blending in, camouflaging myself, becoming one of the guys.”

Watching Dexter endure the bubbly, enforced cheer of family life may make this the best season of the drama series to date. Who wouldn’t feel a little crazy when his wife is driving him to work, singing “Karma Chameleon” to the baby at the top of her lungs?

This season, the absurd pressures of building a stable life with another person are at the forefront of the picture for Dexter’s sister, Deb, too. She’s feeling a little less enthusiastic about her live-in boyfriend Anton since her older ex, retired FBI agent Frank Lundy, came back to Miami to investigate some suspicious homicides in the area on his own time. Lundy is a lot like Dexter, unable to relax or connect with regular people and obsessed with his work. In contrast, Anton is a little bit too relaxed – in one great scene, he sits around his and Deb’s apartment, noodling away on an unplugged electric guitar, while Deb huffily makes coffee for both of them.

The commitment phobia came to a head in last week’s episode, when Deb gave Dexter a ride home after work one night, and Dexter just stared at his house instead of getting out of the car.

Dexter: It’s so crowded in there.

Deb: Well, I guess so. A wife and three kids.

Dexter: They’re always there.

Deb: Tell me about it. It was easy living with Anton when he was never home. I’d come back to a quiet apartment and unwind without having to deal with anybody. Now, as soon as I walk through the door, he’s there, waiting to engage.

Dexter: There’s no escape.

It’s true, Dexter. Being a good spouse (or even a bad one) takes far more energy than most of us can muster, as evidenced by the divorce rate in this country. But what can we do? We strive to be better for our better halves, if only to keep them from boarding that plane to Monte Carlo for one more day.

: Heather Havrilesky is Salon's TV critic and author of the rabbit blog. Her memoir, "Disaster Preparedness," published in 2010. More Heather Havrilesky