There is one verbal exchange that perfectly sums up this episode and one of its greater themes.
“You’re disgusting,” Frank Prady tells money man Redmayne.
“But I’m rich,” he replies. “So it really doesn’t matter, does it?”
In an episode where rich lawyers are defending rich murderers, and rich, sexist, homophobes are running the show, all money is dark and dirty money. And, because The Good Wife is such an excellent show, we are thoroughly entertained by the characters who represent these rich and shameless.
First there’s the great Colin Sweeney (played brilliantly, perfectly by Dylan Baker). We’ve seen Alicia Florrick and co. defend him before, and it’s clear that Sweeney is guilty of murdering his wives (how many, at this point? I’ve lost count)—so why do we love him? Well, we’re TV viewers and we can’t help it! We’re captivated by the odd and the bizarre; the strange, morally questionable, and the amusing. If such a character happens to be a murderer, so be it! We love Sweeney for some of the same reasons we love Eli—they both say things they’re not supposed to say, and—to invoke the great Bad Gal Riri—they seem to have little to no effs to give. So few, that it’s astounding… and always entertaining.
Lemond Bishop is another criminal/client we can’t help but adore. This week’s storyline with Kalinda felt a bit out of place with everything else going on, but it was still interesting to watch. All parents know the struggle of that phone call Lemond Bishop had to make to All-American Mike’s parents (what a great nickname for the bully, beating up on the adorable, intelligent baby Bishop). I always love when they show us this side of Bishop, because it’s his best side. The restraint he has to show is fascinating because we know he has all kinds of [dangerous] resources at his disposal, but there’s also something incredibly familiar about it. Show any parent that epic Erlich slap scene from Silicon Valley and they’ll immediately identify because, well, we all have these moments where we want to physically hurt someone (man, woman, or child) who has hurt our baby. We feel you, Bishop. We feel you.
But although he’s rich, and Sweeney is rich—and we do get a little squeamish watching the lawyers on this show work to keep them both out of prison (especially Sweeney)—none can compare to Lou Grant Redmayne. He’s going to give Alicia one million dollars in “dark money” because he doesn’t “like fags,” and so he appreciates the homophobic robo calls Alicia’s team has been putting out. That which is disgusting in him admires that which is disgusting in Alicia’s campaign. And it doesn’t matter that she quips back at him (I loved her joke about the balls in his briefcase)—Alicia is going to take that dark money and run/win with it (or die—emotionally—trying).
This parallel is also true for her relationship with Sweeney. He prefers her to Diane and Cary. He trusts her to not let her disgust for him color her abilities as a lawyer, and her desire to win a case. It’s remarkable—Alicia is remarkable. But in a way, her characteristics mimic those of the ruthless and unapologetic killers she represents. That’s what makes her successful, and so very complicated.