#i really want a break arc where it’s like. the same tension as the ada vs pm arc however it has all the new cast members too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leonawriter · 3 years

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Second half of what was going to be just one post but I wanted to make each point stand out on its own-

I think that the Port Mafia is going through a character development arc throughout the manga, just the same as the ADA is, and by the time the series ends will be almost unrecognisable from the mafia we started out with.

Funnily enough, the first person who springs to my mind when I think of this is actually Kouyou. Though I will touch on others later on.

Kouyou is certainly not the first PM member we meet. Strictly speaking, that’d be Dazai, or Higuchi, or Akutagawa. But I feel like her change is the most indicative of the route the mafia is taking, and the difference between the pre-manga PM, and the PM after the manga started, and after several arcs. In fact, this is also something I tend to try and think about when writing her in fics, because it is highly relevant.

Chronologically, we know that her timeline is thus; she was part of the mafia in the time before Mori took over, and under the old boss she wanted to run away, likely encouraged by an older man who she may have had feelings for, romantic or not. That man died, and left her feeling that no matter what, she would be unable to escape the darkness. At some time after that, Mori took over the mafia. A year later, she was one of his trusted subordinates, and she is tasked with taking a young Chuuya - previously an enemy of the mafia, and someone who had no idea how to talk to the mafia’s business partners - under her wing. She would go on to become an executive, and at some time before the manga began, found and took in Kyouka. She would then go on to be murderously protective of her young ward, much like a mother or older sister, and encourage her to believe as she had - that she would never be able to live in the light.

So what we see from this is that Kouyou up until this point is a woman with a dark past and a dark heart who is full of grief, and I think that a lot of people overlook this because she’s beautiful and because the way she is later is more popular, but... she is just as guilty of perpetuating the cycle of abuse as Mori, Dazai, and Akutagawa. She was imparting to Kyouka the same “life lessons” that she had learned herself, in much the same way that Atsushi’s headmaster had. Both of those people had suffered, and so both of them taught their charge in a way that they saw as somewhat more forgiving than what they had gone through, in a way that to them would ready the child for the outside world and their future, but was ultimately doing more harm than good.

So, what changes?

I’d say that to answer “Dazai” is to over-simplify things.

The situation had become such that it was no longer viable. Kyouka refused to go back to the mafia. Kouyou was afraid for her, that she would lose herself in some way, and despite her previous words to Atsushi, she did want Kyouka to succeed; or at the very least, saw how a failure would break her, as we see it does while she’s in the jail plane, chained up in midair. Their organisations are not just at odds, but as an executive she’d have to be seeing that neither of them are in a safe position.

Kouyou was already in the perfect place to accept Dazai’s suggestions before he came to her with them (and, admittedly, he may have predicted that things would get to this point, may have used the situation to his advantage).

So, what changes the way that she sees things?

Dazai is one aspect. A rather large one, considering how he himself puts that he managed to get out of the mafia, and is someone with his sort of past (and personality) who not only made it out, but has been staying out, and succeeding. He also points out that with him present in the ADA, he’s able to ensure that Kyouka can flourish in the way that she deserves to.

Atsushi is another aspect, I’d say, because he was the one who was willing to suggest that their organisations work together.

Even just staying with the ADA and not being treated with anything other than respect (and yes, that includes “respect for how dangerous she can be”) would work towards this.

In summary, Kouyou before the Three Company Conflict arc is a grief-ridden woman filled with despair, who sees herself as someone only capable of showing her true potential in the darkness. She comes out of said arc as someone who appears happy with where she is, and who chooses to be where she is, yet who is also happy to help Kyouka from the shadows.

This is just focusing on the one I feel is the best representation of this phenomenon of PM members coming out better.

Another would have to be Chuuya, which is something that many people have written about, myself included, on how before the manga starts he’s bitter over Dazai’s defection, seeing that trust in his partner as having been shattered. Yet over the course of their first reunion, he is forced to see that his partnership with Dazai need not be over simply because Dazai is now a traitor to the mafia, and that Dazai, well, missed him. As a person. That the connection is still there. And later, during the Lovecraft battle, they work together fluidly again, just like old times and reminding them that just because they’re older, doesn’t mean they’re too much different to still be partners. You can really see it in Dead Apple, where his acceptance of Dazai is less in how willingly he trusts in him and activates Corruption, and more in how comfortable he is after he’s woken up again both in the movie when he sees Akutagawa, and in the promo images where he’s still next to Dazai, and they’re smiling.

Akutagawa needs almost no explanation, given how his arc is still ongoing, and he’s already gone from being the rabid dog of the mafia who kills before he thinks to someone who goes out of his way to leave people alive, and who because of that, is learning to see things from another point of view, just as Dazai wanted of him.

Yet, it’s not just these obvious ones; Higuchi has to work with the ADA on several occasions, tempering down on her novice’s pride in her organisation that she had on her introduction, and is also coming into her own as well. Kajii may well have taken something from his encounter with Yosano, and we see how he’s more than just a mad lemon scientist when he says how much he respects Mori (and I wonder if anything else is going to happen with that). Hirotsu is now able to talk with Dazai again and it isn’t something that he would have to worry about being seen as treasonous.

And last but not least, Mori himself - when it’s said during his match against Fukuzawa that they’ve both got more to protect now, that’s not just cheap words; Mori protects his people. He shows grief when his people die and it was out of his control. He accepts that an alliance with the ADA is the best and most optimal course when it’s put on the table, even with the understanding that it’ll put them at a disadvantage in the short term. He is forced to begin to come to terms with things about his past that he had been trying to rationalise, and ignore, such as how his actions led to Dazai’s defection, and I sincerely believe that although he does not regret what he did, he does regret how it ended, and what it cost him.

Mori, the leader of the mafia, is being forced in the current arc to come face to face with the realisation that the mafia can’t live as an island, merely taking from the ADA what they need and giving nothing in return. It is Mori’s lack of action that led to things becoming as bad as they are now, and because of that, his own people are suffering. I’ve said this before to personal friends, but I do think that this is indicative of the mafia’s growth as a group - Mori needs to learn that the alliance with the ADA has to be an equal one.

What’s more, the ADA is learning through their own growth in general that they have to be able to trust the PM in return.

What does this say to me?

Other than that the characters of the mafia have been influenced positively by the plot, into becoming better versions of themselves, and the development is still in progress because the series isn’t over? That you can’t write them the way they are now, into a fic set years before the series starts?

That the themes of BSD are such that the PM represent the underside of society, a cruel and callous way of thinking that we often don’t wish people to see, or that we cover up. That even the ADA, on the twilight of the law, is still more often than not too proud to accept the help of criminals who are less ashamed and more forward about the way that they do things being criminal. That both sides are slowly moving down the path of being able to accept one another better, and in doing so, they’ll better be able to accept themselves.

We already see this with Kouyou and Akutagawa and Chuuya especially. We see this with Dazai, and to a degree with Kyouka. I believe that the longer the series goes in this direction, the more other ADA characters will accept themselves; such as Tanizaki, with his ability to use his ability in ways that Hirotsu notes are “perfect for assassination,” and with Ranpo, who hides the fact that he has insecurities and is also fully willing to make a demon of himself in order to protect his own - which is far more of a mafia attitude than an ADA one, even if, just like with Chuuya, I’m not sure I can imagine him in the other organisation.

The ADA will always be the ADA, and the PM will always be the PM, but together they can be better than they were before on their own. Currently they seem to be on a tentative truce of sorts, uncertain about doing things together and constantly in a state of tension. If they can get to a point where they trust each other more implicitly, that’s where the real strength is going to come from - something that Mori saw himself, when sending Chuuya out to help Dazai - and yet it won’t just be in the sense of power and how well they perform in their casework and missions, but strength of character, in who they are as people.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd kouyou #bsd port mafia #again I'm tired and rambling but I hope this made sense

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florrickandassociates · 7 years

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TGF Thoughts: 1x07-- Not So Grand Jury

Thoughts on a delightful and eventful episode of The Good Fight under the cut. And (spoiler alert!) I don’t complain a single time about Maia not working.

We pick up where we left off: With Colin in Lucca’s office, telling her to be careful because her firm took an $800,000 bribe.

After Colin exits, a ticking noise kicks in (it’s the opening of a song, and it heightens the tension appropriately) and Lucca walks directly to the open seating area. Maia’s claiming a desk when Lucca arrives and pulls up a chair. (This is news Lucca has to sit down to deliver, a smart stage direction that both demonstrates Lucca’s understanding of how hard this will be for Maia to hear and matches with the lyrics about friendship in the tick-tick-tick song (“just for tonight/we can pretend/that we are friends/to the end”.)

(The Tick Tick Tick song is actually “Pretend” by Emika; I don’t know what it’s about because I haven’t listened beyond the line played in this scene yet, but it seems fitting to me to pair a lyric about pretending* to be friends with a moment where Lucca makes a friendly gesture—sitting instead of standing to deliver tough news—to someone who she wouldn’t call a friend.)

*it sounds sinister in the song, but in the show, I think it comes off more as acting as a friend towards someone you normally wouldn’t give that label to.

Lucca states the information she just heard from Colin. “That’s what I told my dad,” Maia realizes. “I know,” Lucca says in an understanding tone.

“Look, I know your first instinct would be to call him, but for the firm…” Lucca begins, but Maia’s learned her lesson already: “We need to tell the partners,” she interrupts. This breaks my heart. Whatever reservations I have about how Maia’s been written, it’s devastating to see a woman who had the utmost trust in her family just a few episodes ago become the person who suggests going straight to the partners. (Also, I love that Lucca makes a point of letting Maia know about the betrayal before she clues the partners in.)

Meanwhile, Mike Kresteva has empaneled a grand jury. He’s working with AUSA Zschau (Aaron Tveit), who appeared once on TGW (in 3x07) and has returned to the TG-verse now that Aaron Tveit is a favorite of the Kings. (He was a series regular on BrainDead last summer.)

Bribery and tax evasion (the fake stories Elsbeth planted) are the main focuses of the Grand Jury… for now. Like all TG-verse Grand Jury plots, the initial focus or strategy barely matters. As Kresteva says, all the grand jury has to believe to indict is that there is a possibility a crime was committed. This is why, at least in TG-v (I really need to come up with a standard way to refer to both shows at once; I feel like I’ve switched names for this as often as the writers switched the name of Diane’s firm in late-season TGW), grand juries usually involve throwing a bunch of things at the jury and hoping at least one thing sticks.

Diane isn’t on the list of name partners. Two episodes out from her power play, I’m wondering if they’ve dropped that thread or if we just haven’t circled back to it yet? On TGW, the signage was always updated the second the name changed. At the end of 1x05, Adrian congratulates Diane on being a FULL partner, not a name partner. Is there a chance Christine just said the line wrong and the script supervisor didn’t catch it? Diane asking to be a full, rather than junior, partner would make more sense than her asking to be a name partner, no? (Though, after bringing in an $86m/y client name partner makes sense too…)

Kresteva arrives at Elsbeth’s office with an order to assist in their investigation. Is that legal? Isn’t there attorney/client privilege here?

Anyway, Kresteva is there to confiscate Ada. “Ada! Erase history! Purge all files!” Elsbeth requests. Ada says “activating,” but then gives a synopsis for the movie The Purge. This is the second time in two episodes the writers have referenced The Purge; is Eli Gold responsible for this?

(The Tick Tick Tick song continues.)

Only a few minutes in, and Kresteva knows the bribery story is a lie. This is the moment where, on my first viewing, I knew this episode would be good. One of Elsbeth’s strategies failing? Elsbeth being undone by voice recording!? The piece of info that seemed like it would be central to the episode becoming an afterthought already!? How exciting! (But seriously, they just swiftly dispense with what seemed like the premise of the episode, instead focusing on new strategies without forgetting about the underlying tensions—the ones between Maia and her family members— of the old strategy.)

I don’t always love it when TG-V is all, TWIST! TWIST! ANOTHER TWIST! LEGAL MANEUVERING THAT’S SUPER FUN BUT WAIT WHAT IS ACTUALLY GOING ON! But it never fails to be fun, especially when it’s treated as fun and good character moments are sprinkled in. (Okay, it’s failed to be fun before, but usually it’s fun on the first watch, at least, and the only time I really wasn’t on board was Peter’s trial in s7 of TGW, and… that arc had its own problems that had more to do with the structure of the season/character development/abandoning interesting threads than it did with the courtroom stuff.)

Ah, Colin has answered my question about attorney/client privilege. They can listen whenever it’s just Elsbeth talking to Ada. Colin remarks that Elsbeth reprimanding Ada is “not privileged.” Still, Ada records everything, so Ada has recorded Elsbeth saying that the $800,000 bribe story is a lie. (Wait, who is Elsbeth talking to here and why isn’t it privileged?)

Now Henry Rindell is in trouble: Kresteva suspects Henry is working with Maia, which would make much more sense than a father turning on his daughter, but isn’t the truth because Henry Rindell is horrible (but has potentially convinced himself he is not horrible).

Henry seems outraged when he realizes Maia might’ve been wearing a wire. Yeah, how dare that daughter of yours mistrust you! You’re so innocent, just trying to destroy her place of work, thinking she’d want you to do that without ever bothering to actually take her feelings into account. Father of the year.

“I have to see her,” Henry insists. Kresteva’s ready to send Henry back to prison. Henry wants to investigate, and Kresteva and Zschau go for it… if Henry wears a wire.

AMY IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is the moment that confirmed the episode would be good. (Note: I don’t watch the credits so I can be unspoiled about guest stars.) Henry’s there for a visit, and Amy is not thrilled. She hands Maia a rum and coke, knowing she’ll need a drink.

Maia asks what Amy’s been talking to Henry about, and then realizes she’ll need to record this, too. (It’s April 13th, according to Maia’s phone.)

“Your apartment looks beautiful, Amy,” Henry makes small talk. Your apartment? Is it Amy’s apartment? Doesn’t sound like it, since Amy replies that they’ll have to move in a month or two.

“Oh, why’s that?” Henry asks cluelessly. Maia and Amy both glare at him. “Money, dad,” Maia reminds him. So, this answers questions I had about who’s paying for that lovely apartment: clearly, Maia’s parents were the ones paying much of the rent. (Though, it seems weird to me that between Maia and Amy, the two of them wouldn’t be able to pay the rent on that apartment. It’s a great space, but it appears to be an extra-large studio or a loft and they have two salaries between them. OK NOT THE POINT, I GET IT, THEY ARE UNDER MORE FINANCIAL STRAIN THAN THEY WERE AND I APPRECIATE THAT THE WRITERS ARE ACKNOWLEDGING THIS. (I just like to nitpick.)

Amy says she’ll let Maia and Henry talk. I’m not sure where she’s exiting to—is there another room other than the bathroom? A kitchen?

Maia stands as far away from her dad as she can—the distance is obvious. And, they’re standing.

“You didn’t trust me,” Henry accuses. EL-OH-EL. “You told me a lie last time. There was no bribery at your firm” he says. This scene was a sneak, and my first thought was, “MAIA, DON’T ANSWER HIM, HE COULD BE TRYING TO TRICK YOU INTO ADMITTING THE LIE!” That’s irrelevant, now, because he already knows it’s a lie and doesn’t need Maia to confirm. I’m happy to see that Maia and I were on the same page, because, after she expresses some frustration with the fact this conversation is even happening, she says, “You were wearing a wire. If I told you a lie there was a reason.” Note the use of the word “if.”

“Talk to me like I’m your daughter. I am right here,” Maia insists, sitting down. Oh, how cool! I wasn’t even thinking about the sitting/standing difference when I mentioned it with Lucca, but it seems to be a thread, since Maia sits down at the exact moment she requests that the conversation switch from being formal to familiar. *Pats self on back*

Henry turns off his recording device (how cynical am I that I worried he had a second one stowed away?) and sits down. Maia, in return, turns off her phone recording.

Henry finally offers her an explanation: “I’m not doing this to save my skin. They’re coming after you. […] [For] the foundation. Your signature on the transferred funds.” Maia reminds him that her signature was forged. “Honey, I don’t think they’ll believe that,” Henry says. “You’re saying you were recording our conversations and using them against my law firm out of some clear concern for me?” Maia restates. Henry confirms this and says the Feds are threatening to prosecute her. Maia says that’s a lie; Henry insists it’s not. “Then don’t fucking use me to clear your conscience, dad,” Maia says. “You want to make a deal for yourself, do it. Don’t do it for me.”

Henry slips Maia info about how Kresteva knows the bribe is a lie. Maia knows that’s true, but she still asks Henry why she should trust him. Good question. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…

Henry’s info here is right: Kresteva does just want to destroy the firm; subpoenas are about to go out. And maybe he has convinced himself he’s doing the right thing or protecting his family. But that doesn’t mean he’s not acting in his own self-interest, that he’s not betraying his daughter, or that his family wants him to involve them in his strategies.

Cut to: a French cooking class. This sequence reminds me of the beginning of 3x12, where everyone’s subpoenaed while they’re out and about, so I knew what was coming and that we’d get little glimpses of what the characters do in their free time. What I didn’t know—and what was brilliantly withheld from the way this first scene is written/directed/edited—is that it’s not Diane who’s taking the French cooking class. As soon as I heard the word “French,” I assumed this was Diane’s way of capturing a little bit of France since she couldn’t have her country home. But nope! Adrian is the one taking the class, and now I love this moment even more than I would’ve if it had been Diane. He’s also, apparently, good at making complicated French sauces. I love it.

Barbara, meanwhile, is having dinner with an old friend from school. (#WilliciaVibes?) She’s having a good enough time with her companion that she doesn’t even stop to realize that the “waiter” (the process server) is bizarrely dressed. What an unpleasant surprise. I want to know more about Barbara’s friend!

And Lucca? She’s gearing up for a run (I was so excited to see her doing something on her own time that wasn’t flirting with Colin!) when the process server stops her at her doorway. She closes the door on him, but he slides the subpoena under.

Notably, we don’t see Diane get served—at this point or later in the episode. Any episode that gets the little things right is an episode I like. While I would’ve enjoyed seeing Diane in her free time, I also already have a sense of what Diane would do in her free time. It’s news to me that Adrian takes cooking classes, that Barbara is (apparently?) single, and that Lucca’s a runner. Choosing to focus on what the more unfamiliar characters do in their free time is, to me, a better use of time than showing us more of what Diane likes to do in her free time. (I suppose there’s no reason they couldn’t have shown a fourth—or fifth, since we do see Marissa get served too—one of these for Diane, since episodes don’t have to be 43 minutes anymore, but three examples conveys the point better than a sequence that goes on and on and on, and if there’s one that I’d choose to take place off-screen, it’d be Diane.) (Also, we’ve seen Diane get subpoenaed several times, including at least once already on TGF.)

Elsbeth and the partners strategize. “Grand juries always indict,” she reminds them. I’m a little shocked this episode isn’t called Yet Another Ham Sandwich. “Unless it’s a police brutality case,” Adrian comments. Accurate.

Elsbeth then gets off on a tangent about Barbara’s earrings. “Elsbeth.” Diane warns. “Right! Sorry. You’re amazing,” Elsbeth responds. God, I love Elsbeth. (I also love that Diane always seems to have less patience for Elsbeth than most of the other characters do.)

The Paisley Group, a former Florrick/Agos client, is thinking of jumping ship. How did RBK even have The Paisley Group as a client in the first place? I mean, that’s the client who told Alicia to read Ayn Rand. Kresteva is trying to scare off all the RBK clients.

Lucca has something to add, but she decides against sharing. Elsbeth calls her out on it, and she shares some info she got from Colin. The assistant attorney general was concerned that the investigation was seeming racist. She can’t reveal how she knows this, but everyone in the room agrees on a strategy: make it seem like the white AG’s office is targeting the firm because of race.

(I love the hand gestures Elsbeth makes as she says “close down the grand jury.”)

They have an audience of one, Elsbeth explains: the assistant AG. (This is similar to Elsbeth’s strategy from when she represented Will in 3x14: the strategy then was to tie everything to Peter Florrick.)

(I’m pointing out all the similarities to past episodes because, as I said on Twitter, this episode feels like TGW’s greatest hits thrown into a blender. Since this episode isn’t just repeating past episodes, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s just that every twist and turn in this episode felt familiar.)

Adrian asks Barbara for her opinion. “About using race?” she asks. “Well, it is about race.” The scene ends there. Perfect. I love the acknowledgement that this is a trial strategy, but it’s also the truth. Kresteva’s whole strategy is that he’d rather silence and destroy a majority African-American law firm than improve policing so that officers stop shooting/beating black people. It is absolutely about race.

Next, Adrian appears before the grand jury. He emphasizes that the firm is majority African-American, taking every opportunity he can to mention the racial makeup of his firm. Heh. (Also, he’s been practicing law in Chicago for 35 years.)

Barbara appears next, and Zschau and Kresteva seem increasingly irritated by all references to race. “I didn’t ask about your firm’s racial makeup,” Zschau says. “Yes, but you did ask me to answer in my own words, and these are my own words,” Barbara replies. (This is straight out of 1x14—Kalinda says this on the stand, too.)

Colin informs the AAG (is that an abbreviation? I don’t care; for the purposes of this recap it is) of what’s going on in court. He’s not pleased. Kresteva insists he’s staying away from race, but the AAG doesn’t care. He wants it to be clear it’s not about race.

This means that another round of subpoenas has to go out… this time only for the white people. Yes, because subpoenaing an assistant who’s been at the firm a month because she’s one of three white people at the firm is definitely going to convince the grand jury it’s not about race.

When she’s served, Marissa is learning Italian in the work elevator. Jay gets on the elevator, too. He asks why she’s learning Italian; she says she’s always wanted to. Apparently, Marissa is saying, “In my next life, I want to come back as a shark.” I’d question what kind of tape would have this as a phrase to learn, but I’ve used Duolingo before and some of the sentences really are that bizarre.

The process server finds Marissa: “Marissa Gold?” She responds by saying, in Italian, “No, in my next life, I want to come back as a shark.” In a wonderful twist, the process server speaks fluent Italian and responds, “Too bad. In this life, you’ve just been served.” I can’t. stop. Laughing.

As Elsbeth strategizes about what to do now, the Tick Tick Tick song returns. Now Kresteva’s being served. I love the process server guy even more because he’s self-aware about how many subpoenas he’s delivered in the last 48 hours.

Elsbeth has a strategy, and it’s one she also used in 4x15 to defend Eli (as I said, this episode is TGW’s greatest hits, though I’m not sure 4x15 actually counts as a greatest hit). She opens a suit in civil court to find out information from the investigation.

Elsbeth vs. Kresteva is working SO well for me. It’s like he’s the adversary for her that they always wanted Josh Perotti to be. What a shock—when there’s no weird romance/stalking subplot, Elsbeth vs. the liar working for the federal government works.

I keep getting served Netflix ads during commercial breaks. This feels weird.

Elsbeth presents Jay with The Schtup List. He expresses no interest in it until Elsbeth explains its importance. Neither Elsbeth nor Jay recognize the numbers listed next to the names, and Elsbeth asks Jay to investigate.

The Chicago Board of Trade is the DOJ now? Stock footage, shrug. (I mean, you can read that it says CHICAGO BOARD OF TRADE in the clip they show.)

“I hate him,” Colin tells his boss. “Him” being his coworker, Kresteva. Heh. The AAG asks Colin if he’s under the mistaken impression he only defends people he likes. “No, I’m under the mistaken impression I don’t defend anyone. I’m a prosecutor,” Colin replies. HEH. (And, this is a thread that keeps coming back throughout the episode!)

Colin’s stuck with the case anyway. He tells his boss he’s dating a lawyer at RBK; his boss just says to stop dating her. This strategy doesn’t work either.

Colin tries to get Elsbeth’s case dismissed, but Elsbeth has a plan for that. She turns things over to Adrian, prompting Colin to ask if Adrian is the plaintiff or a lawyer. Since Colin’s the first to mention that Adrian should be called as a witness if he wants to talk, Judge Gallo allows the case to move forward. Heh. Colin’s out of his element. He also calls Elsbeth “the defense” and Gallo corrects him: “the plaintiff.” This is great. As I said, I love the little things, like reminding us that Colin isn’t used to arguing in civil court. They infuse moments of courtroom drama (or other plot-driven moments) with revealing character information.

Another example of this is that Colin, even though he hates Kresteva and personally agrees with Team RBK, is not in any way (well, aside from not breaking up with Lucca) intentionally throwing this case. He’s not giving it 110% (he wouldn’t be fumbling like this if he were), and he’s distracted by Lucca and by his internal conflicts, but he is doing his job.

“Make me your second chair,” Lucca advises Elsbeth. Elsbeth agrees.

Colin objects to a witness’s statement. He is really off his game.

Colin questions Adrian and asks how important the three clients they lost, the ones Kresteva scared off, were. They were only worth a combined 1.3 million, which means they must not have been doing much business for The Paisley Group (which makes sense to me, given what we know about The Paisley Group). Colin points out that they just signed ChumHum, which is worth $86 million. Yeah. But, as Lucca points out, that doesn’t mean Kresteva isn’t still affecting their client list.

Colin and Lucca bicker in court. Judge Gallo isn’t happy. Lucca apologizes, then asks why the defendant isn’t there. “I see. So Mr. Kresteva is too busy for Judge Gallo?” Lucca says when Colin explains Kresteva is busy. This is smart: Gallo seems like exactly the type of judge who would take offense at this sort of snub.

Marissa takes the stand next—in the grand jury room-- and sticks with the strategy. She explains that Diane mentors her in “becoming aware of the nature of white privilege.” Heh. Zschau mentions that Marissa also worked with Diane at Lockhart Deckler etc., and Marissa just comments that “that was definitely not an African-American firm. It was like the Trump White House there.” Bwah. The grand jurors like Marissa. When Kresteva suggests she move off of the subject of race, Marissa apologizes and says “Touchy.” The grand jurors like that, too, and their level of respect for Kresteva declines by the second.

Now Diane is the target: did she slip Adrian privileged information in F101?

Marissa calls Diane after court, then notices Andrew Hart. She takes a picture and takes it to the legal team.

To find out what Andrew Hart said to the grand jury… they call him to the stand in the civil case. Hehehe.

Elsbeth is on the most obvious fishing expedition ever—she has a list of possible motivations and runs through them one by one (at least, I think that’s what that list is?) until she figures out what Hart is up to—and it works. Idk about the legality of all this, but it sure is fun to watch.

Lucca distracts Colin as he tries to object. And by distracts, I mean sucks on her pen. In the middle of the court room. It works. (Hello, 5x12 Willicia.) (Only without the tension/hatred.) (Colin doesn’t really seem to care that Lucca’s throwing him off.)

After court, Lucca walks past Colin, makes sure he sees her, and then walks into an empty courtroom. He follows her in. She asks him to come by that night, and he tells her he’s been told to break up with her. She says he better do it and starts to leave. He stops her and pulls her in for a kiss. “You’re going to get fired,” she warns. “Mm. I hate my job anyway,” he says. That’s the truth right there. At this point, I think Colin really doesn’t care if he gets fired over this.

Meanwhile, Barbara sits down with a client Andrew Hart is trying to poach. The client doesn’t seem to like Hart very much, because he testifies for RBK and offers even more information than he’s asked to just to help.

The litigation financiers have been subpoenaed to testify at the grand jury. This episode moves fast, y’all. It’s impressive (but unsurprising) that TGF built, in six episodes, a complicated web of things that could come back to hurt RBK.

Can two people testify before a grand jury at once or is this a thing I just have to believe could happen because TV?

Things look bad for RBK: they have a clear story about the settlement for the case in F101 and how Diane’s warning led Adrian to be confident in a favorable settlement.

The litigation financiers don’t want to tell Adrian and Diane what they said to the grand jury, but they say just enough Adrian and Diane understand what they’re up against. “Fuck,” Adrian says, and one of the financiers reminds him not to swear. “It bugs out Jer,” Adrian recalls, quoting F102.

Diane takes full responsibility for this. She says she told Adrian more than she should have. (Adrian is correct in recalling what Diane says, FWIW. Diane said they would be getting a good settlement and to hire Maia, because she found a key piece of evidence. Unless this all hinges on the “you’ll get a good offer in a few hours” part of it? Is that disbarrable?)

Adrian doesn’t let Diane take responsibility for this. He reminds her Kresteva is going to go after anything he can. “Stop kicking yourself. We are dealing with people who are coming at us for the smallest infraction,” he says. He meant it when he told Maia in 1x04 that people at RBK look out for each other. Of course, RBK still has its office politics (see: Julius Cain), but the sense of loyalty and community is refreshing. It feels like the family environment L/G always purported to be. It’s easy to see, given this moment and others earlier in the season, how committed RBK is to its mission and culture. Adrian and Barbara have a clear vision for what they want their firm to be and how they want it to run, and I’d like to know more about it. (And more about how Diane threatens/can strengthen it—this is the sort of corporate culture Diane always said she wanted to cultivate!)

Adrian suggests that they defend themselves with something called “mere puffery.” I don’t know what this is (rather, I didn’t know what it was until they explained it in a later scene), but Adrian and Diane both crack up at the suggestion, so I find it funny too. Also, “mere puffery” just sounds funny.

Marissa saves the day! She recognizes a nine-digit number from her W-2. This… is a stretch.

Y’all know I paused the stream to read Marissa’s W-2. This W-2 says 2013. Also, that Marissa made $71,706.01. Lol. Lol. Lol. Lol. Lol. LOL. Doesn’t that seem awfully high for an assistant job that consists of running errands? Oh, God. Now I’m looking up the salaries all of these people would be making (Glassdoor says Marissa would not be making that much).

It’s a federal tax ID number. Marissa and Jay realize at the same time that if numbers on The Schtup List match numbers from Lockhart Deckler, Diane is screwed.

Diane is on the stand. She tries out mere puffery, which she explains (it means promoting through exaggeration). Kresteva says he knows what it is. (Yay for good exposition!)

They show her The Schtup List, and connect it to Diane hiring Maia, and… yeah, this doesn’t look good.

Kresteva also explains that they have Henry Rindell coming in the next day.

After the grand jury, Diane finds Adrian and says she needs to resign because she’s about to be indicted. “Are you… guilty of anything? Other than being friends with the wrong people?” Adrian asks. No, she isn’t. (Maia listens in and figures out what she has to do—this is something I wish she’d done a few episodes ago, but better late than never, and I appreciate that it’s tied to her concern for her godmother.) Diane keeps insisting that she should resign, but Adrian is, in his words, “not running scared from motherfuckers like [Kresteva.]” Awww, warm and fuzzy feelings.

Then the scene ventures on preachy, but only because it’s the 2nd scene in 3 episodes to include repetition of the word “fight” as what Diane has to do. Like, yeah, we get it, this is called The Good Fight. No one ever called Alicia “The Good Wife” to her face! (But I guess “Saint Alicia” is the same thing.)

Diane looks shocked that someone could be so kind to her. Must take a lot of betrayal to get to the point where you’re surprised when your partners stand up for you. Poor Diane. (I wish Barbara were here for this conversation, though. It would be interesting to see her agree with Adrian on this, not necessarily because she supports Diane without any reservations but because she believes that her firm shouldn’t throw its own under the bus.)

Maia meets with her father again, recording devices off. “You’re testifying against Diane?” Maia asks. “No, I’m telling the truth,” Henry says. “Oh. Your alternative truth?” Maia says. HAH.

Maia connects the dots, a little too late. Was that the only use of The Schtup List? Not turning against Jax, but framing Diane in exchange for a lighter sentence? (I wonder about this. Given that Jax is barely mentioned in this episode and Henry wanted the list, not proof it was on Jax’s computer, I suspect that Maia’s right about Henry’s motives.)

Henry says it was just about leverage, but Maia cuts through that bullshit: “You betrayed her for a lighter sentence?” Henry insists this is so Maia won’t see jail time, and neither will Lenore. But… dude… you had to have Maia break the law and implicate herself in order to get that list, and now you’re ruining her workplace. And Maia sees through this, too: it wasn’t just altruistic… Henry wanted a lighter sentence for himself, too.

“I want a chance to see you have kids. I want to hold my grandkids,” Henry says. Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you stole people’s money! “What was the deal?” Maia asks. “Ten years,” Henry says, and Maia immediately understands how favorable that is. She asks him not to testify against Diane—an offer of ten years indicates a weak case.

But Henry keeps insisting he has to testify… “it’s for you, too.” Maia rejects his help in the strongest way possible: “You do this, dad, and if I ever have any kids, you’ll never see them. I’ll never let you see them.” This is hard to watch (would be even harder if I had emotional investment in any of the Rindells, which I don’t, really). Maia’s probably more damaged by this conversation than by any other part of the scandal. Her own father is trying to disguise his own self-interest as protecting her, to the point where he’s able to rationalize throwing old friends—friends whose life savings he’s already wiped out because of his own greed!—under the bus as something noble.

He tries to kiss Maia goodbye, but she rejects his embrace. “I love you,” he says. Maia doesn’t respond.

For the first time in episodes, Diane and Maia feel like godmother/goddaughter. They’re sitting together in civil court, anticipating Henry’s testimony (he’s been subpoenaed there as well). “Are you alright?” Diane asks Maia. “No, not really,” Maia replies. “I wish I could tell you it’ll get easier,” Diane says. “I wish you could tell me that too,” Maia says. And in one short exchange, Maia gets the character development I’ve been looking for! She’s grown more accepting, mature, and resolute. And, unlike in past episodes, we’re actually getting a check-in on how she’s doing. In the episodes where Maia was acting recklessly, it wasn’t clear enough, IMO, why, other than the generic motivation* of “family,” she’d make the decisions she did. (The solution to that problem would’ve been more stories about life before, or moments that felt very genuine between her and her parents, or anything else that would make me believe Maia would really help her cartoon villain parents.) But in this episode (and the last), I understand Maia’s decisions. I see what changes for her and when and why, I see her questioning her loyalties, and I see her coming to terms with her new reality and forming/strengthening new bonds. Even a line as simple as this exchange shows Maia’s thought process, and that’s a welcome change from the conspiracy-driven nonsense of the past few episodes.

*this is not a bad motivation or even a bad plot; my problem is that it was an underdeveloped motivation that made it hard to sympathize with a brand-new character who was almost exclusively interacting with two dimensional characters who seemed so obviously shifty that Maia’s trust in them (well, just Henry, really) and willingness to break the law for them never quite made sense.

Anyway, Elsbeth asks a question influenced by information Maia’s told her: what did Kresteva offer him in exchange for his grand jury testimony? Henry stares right at Maia, and tells the truth: ten years instead of life without parole. Maia stares back: she knows what she’s done, and she’s not hiding it. She knows she’s just almost guaranteed her father will get life without parole. And she is okay with that. She knows she’s going to have to be.

Things aren’t going well over at the DOJ. The news of the (proposed) plea deal is out, and Kresteva’s strategy, now that it’s so public and not just a backroom deal, isn’t to the assistant attorney general’s liking. (Shitty boss, though, because he totally signed off on this strategy in a prior episode.)

Kresteva shows up at Elsbeth’s office. He hands her a cardboard box, and tells her he was just fired. “I’m just happy it’s over,” Elsbeth says. “I just think it’s funny that you think this is over,” Kresteva says. Then he leaves. So… is there more? Or is this just Kresteva’s way of getting the last word? (Side note: I appreciate that this episode didn’t rely at all on the “Kresteva is a lying liar” thing. He still is a lying liar, but he’s not just someone who makes up stories. That only works to a point.)

What’s in the box? Ada! I dunno about you, but I wouldn’t use that thing ever again. Half the time, it doesn’t work, and it’s also always recording you.

At RBK, Diane stops by Maia’s desk and thanks her. “You could have protected yourself, and instead you protected me,” Diane says. “Please, don’t mention it,” Maia replies. “You got me this job,” Maia says warmly. “You deserved it,” Diane replies. She thanks Maia again, patting her head (well, not exactly, but I’m blanking on how to describe it and “patting her head” captures the dynamic more accurately than “stroking her face”). Maia doesn’t reject this gesture the way she rejected her father’s kiss.

Another great, short moment that’s better late than never. I would’ve liked to see more from Diane and Maia between 1x01 and 1x07, but this is exactly the sort of development I wanted. Strangely enough, this is also development that had to take place this far into the season and after the events of this episode. It wouldn’t have worked to have Maia realign her loyalties so she values her relationship with Diane (and, secondarily, the firm) more than she values her relationship with her parents right at the start of the show. Maia had to lose her trust in her parents and make choices for herself before we could get here. Otherwise, it might have felt like Maia was just rebelling, or that she was making a hasty, emotional decision. So, I’ll amend my earlier statement: this moment isn’t better late than never. It’s precisely right for this moment, but I wish we’d gotten the Maia and Diane scenes that were precisely right for all the moments between 1x01 and 1x07, too.

(I can’t say enough good things about this scene. It shows Maia’s maturity and awareness, but still conveys that Maia is the closest thing Diane has to a daughter. This moment doesn’t establish Maia and Diane as peers—even though you got me a job, I saved your job seems like it could do that. It reminds us that they’re each other’s chosen family, and it acknowledges that Maia is both a mature adult and someone who could use a mother/mentor figure. I want more of this going forward, and I will be very disappointed if this thread disappears for another several episodes. This is the sort of thing that should be present in almost every episode, even in the smallest moments.)

(For example, Diane tells Maia that she “deserved” this job. That could be because Maia’s a great lawyer who found a key piece of evidence, but it’s also totally because Diane has an easy time picturing Maia, the smart girl she’s watched grow up, as someone deserving and capable. That sort of thing should be clear in every scene between Diane and Maia—and there should be plenty of scenes between Diane and Maia, since her connection to Diane is the reason we have Maia on the show in the first place, right?)

In another good moment for Maia (have you notice I haven’t complained about her not working in this recap!? Sure, that’s because there’s no COTW or subplots that seems to take place during business hours, but it’s also because the writers finally bothered* to use Maia well), Marissa asks to get drinks. Maia says no, at first, but reconsiders. She needs a drink after that day, but this isn’t about alcohol: this is about establishing ties. She’s reaffirmed her loyalty to Diane, but she’s also starting to think about making new friends, embracing her workplace, and focusing on the things she’d be focusing on without the conspiracy drama surrounding her.

*I say “finally bothered” because the past few weeks, they haven’t even been trying. I’ve seen the writers try and fail to convey character development, and I’ve seen them try and succeed at character development. It felt like they were not even trying the past few weeks.

Lucca’s heading out for another run, but she’s interrupted again, this time by Colin. He says something, but the music’s too loud for us to hear it (by which I mean that the music plays instead of whatever he’s saying). Lucca gives him a hug to comfort him and invites him in. Hm. I don’t know what he said. Perhaps he was fired? That would make sense, given that Kresteva was fired, the grand jury was a mess, he’s already indicated he was ready to move on, and that Lucca’s hug suggests she’s reacting to bad/sad news, not just greeting him. I wonder if we’ll ever find out what he said, and why the writers chose to make the line silent.

In any event, I’m intrigued. This has been the most enjoyable episode since the pilot, and it hit the right balance of character moments and plot development. It also seemed to tie up some plots that weren’t working and brought together a lot of threads. Plus, the grand jury episodes are always fun, especially when they have real stakes and/or involve Elsbeth. It’s smart that this episode, by the end, places more importance on the consequences of this investigation for Maia. We know the firm’s probably going to survive this, and that it’ll probably survive any subsequent investigation plots. But Maia’s relationship with her dad doesn’t have to survive or be repaired for the show to continue, so there’s a character-motivated reason for the grand jury. The episode also concludes (?) the Rindell conspiracy arc in a way that involves everyone at RBK instead of pulling Maia even further out of the RBK orbit, and it solidifies Diane’s membership among the partners of her new firm. That’s what I want to see: A fun (if, at times, derivative) episode that still feels consequential and is about characters as much as it’s about plot.

#The Good Fight #TGFThoughts

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