Kalinda CIS

Archie Pajabi, in character as Kalinda, on The Good Wife

The Good Wife is my favorite new tv show of the several candidates for my favor. It’s a variation on the legal procedural, yet it splits time between the legal case at the center of each episode, and, lawyer Alicia’s (played by Margulies) knotty domestic drama. The domestic portion of the plot is concerned with Alicia’s politician-husband’s infidelity and struggle to overturn a suspect conviction for corruption. The show has a smart ensemble cast and is an appealing, grown-up, entertainment.

The original hook for me was the return of Julia Margulies to a solid prime time opportunity. However, the show has consistently carved a surprising single pattern almost every week. It goes like this: sometime before the weekly case comes to have its stereotypical day in court, the starring law firm’s staff investigator has cracked the case through a combination of her pluck, street smarts, interpersonal savvy, and, forensic skills.

We’re talking week-after-week, investigator Kalinda brings the winning run across the plate. Kalinda’s character is the most mysterious, guarded, intriguing in the cast. Archie Pajabi really grabs the frame too, even on the rare occasions when she shares it with the mild scene chewer, the marvelous Christine Baranski.

The Good Wife risks spinning off into a new orbit around the uncanny Kalinda. It seems unlikely this was the plan, but this is no reason to complain–the show remains about as good as it gets in the minor league of old line big 3 broadcast tv. And Pajabi is the sleekest brainiac sleuth since Carla Guigino ran Karen Sisko through her paces.

more boob tube musings,,,

Survivor caps its 20th season over ten years with the equivalent of pulling on brand new shoes, by casting fan favorite old timers into a Heroes v. Villains battle royal. I’m pleased my favorite player Stephanie is on the Heroes, and, will be very pleased to see last season’s villain Russell learn for a second time the prime imperative of the game is to outlast. I’m going to guess the operating precept for the season will be ruthlessness on both sides.

MI5, season seven, finally became available from Netflix. (It’s a BBC spy drama winding its way through season eight in the UK.) Alas, poor Adam, literally ran out of time. The show has become increasingly preposterous, yet it continues to draw asymmetrical plot lines tight as fiddle strings. I’m compelled to erase my disbelief that Roz, twice a plotter against the Queen’s people, has ascended to the lead of Section D. Maybe rogue CIA spook Bob Hogan might show up in a future episode to deal with Roz’s ghost? If you don’t know MI5, I suggest rolling back to season one, and, getting your Grid on.

How soon they grow up.

How could have the producers of Big Love put the intro theme, God Only Knows, on ice? Actually, I have to laugh, because, for a show long oriented to stringing together shockers, the simple change in theme song was a real unanticipated shock. Big Love has fully come to be the Mormon Sopranos. This isn’t because family domo Bill Henrickson is a sociopathic thug, it’s because, like Tony Soprano, papa Bill’s enormous delusions are commensurate with his titanic will. Only youngest of three wives Margene seems poised to leverage her simmering alienation for the sake of autonomy. No accident too: Big Love is easily the greatest tv drama ever about human autonomy.

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