Skip to main content

Audra McDonald: "The Good Fight"

 Audra McDonald's time is precious, and I'm sad she is spending so much of it on the increasingly smug show "The Good Fight."


I've lost some interest in the show because the characters don't really grab me; the writers seem to want to be wry about current events, and then they want to congratulate themselves for their wryness.

One particular issue I have with "The Good Fight" is that it's giving a sizable part of its last season to two completely new characters -- and neither character is totally compelling. The Kings made this same error with "The Good Wife," and it's surprising they are repeating history. By contrast, I'm impressed with "Better Call Saul," which has one stable of characters; the relationships get weirder and more tortured, and the last season is (finally) a powder keg.

All that said, I liked Audra's story in Thursday's "Good Fight." Audra's Liz Reddick ("Reddick" sounds like "Florrick," and these writers aren't always gifted with names) goes on a talk show and trashes Clarence Thomas. Later, alone, she gets a call from a stranger: "I'm Ginni Thomas, and I'd like you to apologize for what you said about my husband."

Of course, this is what happened between Ginni Thomas and Anita Hill ten years ago -- and the writers use this real-world moment to offer some brilliant thoughts. Why would Ginni place such a deranged call? Because she was lonely! As Liz Reddick comes to understand Ginni's loneliness, she finds herself in a bizarre phone tango; it lasts for weeks and weeks and weeks. Liz and Ginni discuss Ginni's past (a kind of quiz, because Liz thinks "Ginni" may be a fake); eventually, the two chat about the trashy reality series "Below Deck." Liz finds herself asking if we're all really so polarized; if we all just might be human, under our political cloaks. Liz and Ginni worry together about working too much -- not pursuing the bucket list, not seizing the day. Implausibly, Liz decides that she might persuade Ginni and Clarence to have an early retirement -- so Biden could then choose a replacement for the Supreme Court. This last bit is shaky writing, but it's kind of funny.

The story ends in a smart, inevitable way -- and the script gives Audra opportunities to be weary, suspicious, exasperated, forceful, cunning. So that's one brief TV highlight from this past week.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more