Tally-ho, Good Wife fans! As longtime Lockhart Gardner associate Paul Revere once warned us: The British are coming! The British are coming!
And not just the British, but Eddie Flippin’ Izzard, everyone’s favorite cross-dressing history buff. Yes, the same comedian who once pointed out the fundamental differences between Americans and their U.K. brethren (hint: it has something to do with the way we pronounce the word herbs) is now playing Queen’s Counsel James Thrush, a man who delivers excellent quips like this one: “God, I do love you Yanks. You’re so easy to distract, with our accents and our periwigs and our tea and crumpets.”
At least, that’s what we think he said. Someone flashed a shiny British coin at us while we were watching, and we got distracted.
Anyway! It’s the Patriots vs. the Redcoats all over again in the courtroom, as Alicia and Thrush go head to head (bonce to bonce?) on The Case of the Left-For-Dead Mountaineer. See, there’s this author, Danny Lambros, whose brother Robert died on Everest. Danny wrote a book suggesting that fellow climber Oliver Cardiff stole Robert’s oxygen and stepped over his body on the way up. In turn, Cardiff’s suing Danny for libel. (And, somewhere, Rupert Murdoch’s probably listening in on Alicia’s steamy voice mails from Will, just for giggles.) In the end, Alicia’s able to get the case dismissed, due to the “death zone” clause: At an altitude of 26,000 feet, climbers suffer from oxygen deprivation and hallucinations, so their testimonies can’t be trusted. As Alicia puts it, “This is a case built on perception, and the death zone makes those perceptions essentially suspect.”
Which explains so much! Why has Alicia been getting all shallow-breathy around Will? Lack of oxygen. Why do we get the feeling that every time Will looks at Alicia, he’s picturing her in sexy Betsy Ross petticoats? Hallucinations. Someone send in the sherpas! There’s a death zone at Lockhart Gardner.
Or maybe it just feels that way because the firm might be in danger. When Peter approaches Diane to see if Lockhart Gardner can provide outside council, he demands that they open themselves up to a voluntary audit first, which might put a giant bullseye on their backs for the IRS. Suddenly, Diane’s red flags are all a-hoisting. “Is there something I should know?” she asks Will, wondering if Alicia’s relationship with her estranged husband might cause trouble for the firm. “I just don’t want to be blindsided.”
“Have you noticed you’re turning into me?” Will replies. “All those sports metaphors?” Still, Diane’s on to Will, who’s not so secretly playing a little touch football with Alicia, and possibly running a naked bootleg play with her, if you know what we mean. (No? Sorry. We don’t either. Sports metaphors are beyond us.)
While Diane and Will are hashing out their game time strategy, Eli’s meeting with Mickey Gunn, a political strategist who’s looking for some crisis management for a client. He needs Eli’s help, but he can’t tell Eli whom the help is for, or why he needs it. “It’s like a bake-off without any ingredients,” sighs Eli.
Nevertheless, he calls in Kalinda to investigate a scandal before it happens. (“Do you want to sit down?” he asks her. “No,” says Kalinda, who sits down so seldom on this show, you’d think she was born without a lap.) Hunting down a guy who hasn’t been identified? To gather evidence for an unknown scandal? Not to worry. Kalinda soon discovers that Mickey’s actually joining the Republican presidential campaign, and he’s just using Eli for research purposes. She’s solved this case before it’s time to administer her mid-afternoon tequila shot.
NEXT: “Intimidation is not a sonnet,” quoth William Gardner Shakespeare.