Reading the In-House: Painkiller (1x12) Part 2
Continued from Part 1
[Alicia tentatively picks up Wesley as a client, provided “North Memorial” (sic-it should be “Memorial North”) waives conflict. Will and Diane agree, but Will points out that they’ve already reassigned Kalinda and Cary, so Alicia will be on her own. (Can I add a “yeah, right” here?)
Alicia ventures out to see Jackie, then she takes a little side trip to the pharmacy where Bowers’ prescription was dispensed. She discovers that out of negligence the prescription wasn’t barcoded at the time it was filled, and she implies that the pharmacy may have dispensed 80mg instead of 10mg oxycodone by mistake. She brings the possibility to ASA Geneva Pine (“mid-30s, blunt, intense, sexy”) as a source of reasonable doubt in an effort to get the SA’s office to drop the murder charge against Dr. Wesley.]
Meanwhile, back in prison…
[Kalinda was supposed to have a dramatic intro at the end of the short scene starting with Golden’s line, “A wiretap? How reliable is your source?” Suffice it to say, that didn’t happen, probably for the best.]
Her actual scene begins with a shot of her from behind, the camera focused on Peter as he begins, “So here we are again.” A far cry from her usual fare of detectives and MEs, the PI has now met with both SAs-past and present-in the same episode. For the first time we get the chance to see how she interacts with these political higher-ups when she isn’t letting more…ahem…upstanding citizens (e.g. Alicia and the partners) run interference for her. It still seems to me like she prefers dealing with lower profile sources of information as opposed to high-profile power-mongers (easier to manipulate? less likely to screw her over?), but now that Childs has forced her hand she’s going to take as active a role as she can in order to stay a step ahead of anyone and everyone who has anything to hold over her. Peter’s word “again” reminds us that Kalinda also surprised him in prison back in 1x06 (“Conjugal”). On that occasion she had been acting as Alicia’s proxy (giving a whole new meaning to the episode title) and trying to get information from Peter about a case after Alicia’s moral hang-ups got in the way of a true conjugal visit. That’s about the only other time we’ve seen Peter and Kalinda interact on the show, but their familiarity then suggested a shared history, as had also been hinted at in previous episodes. Unfortunately, the show hasn’t been particularly forthcoming about the details of said history, though it’s been fairly well established that Kalinda worked for some time in the SA’s office and was fired for “working two jobs”. Her conversation with Childs at the cop bar further suggests that the second job was for him. Getting burned while trying to play for both teams at once may have contributed to Kalinda’s relatively demure nature in front of Childs and her comparative reluctance to do business with him. Indeed, her entire demeanor in Peter’s presence in this upcoming scene is so markedly different from her attitude in the cop bar earlier in the episode that she hardly seems the same person at all. She’s bolder, more assertive, facing Peter squarely head-on. Her familiarity with Peter, too, is very much present; she seems almost gleeful at points, certainly much more confident now that she has the upper hand with somebody in this rather dangerous game.
Kalinda responds amicably enough, almost idly reminding Peter that she’s been fired only once in her life (by him, of course). He dryly asks if she’s still holding a grudge. While Peter’s inquiry about the grudge isn’t completely in jest-I’m sure he genuinely wants to know if he’s on her shit list-there’s none of the deathly tension in it that dominated her conversation with Childs in the bar. Peter doesn’t think of her as an enemy, it seems, nor does he want her to be one. But now Kalinda’s in her element: applying pressure with the proper leverage. She makes an exact science out of it, and she delights in it. “Giving you a chance to correct a mistake,” she informs him, and he smiles (genuinely, I think). “But my rates have gone up.” He doesn’t seem concerned about her rates. Rather, this has become comfortable footing for both of them, since he can now conceive of their meeting as a “job interview”. Continuing with that theme, he asks for her qualifications. Now Kalinda’s no ordinary applicant, of course, and her qualifications are likewise rather exceptional. Peter knows exactly what she’s capable of, which is why his question comes off slightly tongue-in-cheek. His seemingly transparent question isn’t a request for her to document her skills so much as a veiled way of asking, “What makes you bring up the subject of working for me again here and now?” She’ll have to convince him not only that he made a mistake in firing her but also that said mistake is one he should fix posthaste. Proper leverage required, indeed: “Childs asked me to work for him.”
For the first time in their conversation the tone is purely serious, and both Peter and Golden look at her with keen interest after she drops that particular bombshell. Peter declines to say anything for a moment, and Golden jumps in to ask what Childs wants her to do. She holds up a finger without even turning an inch to look at him. All of her attention is on Peter; she has none to spare for his subordinate. She isn’t here to deal with underlings, after all, even if they have the ear of the man in charge. Her past history with Peter, as sketchy as the details are to us, may make her more inclined to deal with him personally, but she also gives the impression that if she’s going to be dealing with men like Florrick and Childs, she’s going to deal with them directly. If nothing else, it gives her greater control.
“Outbid him,” she challenges. She knows Peter can do it; moreover, she seems to want Peter to do it. She strikes me here as much more comfortable with the idea of working for Peter than for Childs-or rather of working for Peter on top of working for Childs, if you get my drift. Last time she was “cheating” on Peter with Childs, but now the positions will be reversed, and Childs is definitely coming off as the sleazier politician here. Peter is certainly the far lesser of two evils, or at least the more manipulable of the two, not to mention the one more likely to treat Kalinda better. Lurking beneath it all is the specter of Alicia, who necessarily complicates Peter and Kalinda’s relationship now (i.e. from 1x01 on) as compared to the past (pre-show). Fortunately (or predictably, as Kalinda might claim), Peter is not only amenable but even a bit eager to take her up on her offer. After all, she did come to him instead of quietly working for Childs against him. While that’s more probably due to business savvy than anything touchy-feely like the goodness of her heart, she knows she’s doing Peter a service by telling him without an absolute guarantee that he’ll employ her in return. Peter is suitably appreciative, which likely helps in his decision to re-hire her, but they nevertheless share a positive personal rapport that was noticeably lacking in the cop bar with Childs.
Peter looks to Golden for details on potentially employing Kalinda, but before they talk numbers (which they never do on-screen) Golden informs her that they’ll need to know what kind of information she can supply. Peter then explains that Childs had tapped his home, and any hint of a smile is wiped off Kalinda’s face. Now we know Peter got this information from Alicia, but I don’t believe Kalinda knows that-at least, not to our knowledge. Confused yet? Anyhow, the point I’m trying to make is that Kalinda’s seriousness at hearing the news almost seems to be an indication of personal concern on her part. If it’s on behalf of Peter, such a reaction might suggest that she genuinely cares for him in some way, even if we already know that she’s (mostly) gotten over the fact that he fired her some time ago and still speaks to him in a more or less friendly manner. Another (non-exclusive) possibility is that she’s realizing a wiretap on Peter’s phones means a wiretap on Alicia’s phones and is concerned on behalf of one of the only people (if not the only person) she’d consider a friend.
Peter continues by explaining that his team doesn’t want to subpoena the wiretap tapes without knowing what exactly is on them, since (implicitly) those records would be brought to the attention of the prosecution as well. He’d like to “preview” those tapes (“Without [Childs] knowing,” Kalinda confirms). His final advice is for her to accept Childs’ job offer and to work for both men at once. “Should be a familiar feeling,” he concludes. It’s things like this, where they’re both comfortable enough to joke about past transgressions (if we can call them that), that implies a sort of camaraderie between them. The script here: “Kalinda smiles, meets Peter’s smile. Two peas in a Machiavellian pod.”
“I always did like you,” Kalinda responds, and it rings true. Peter’s look says the same thing. We can note that Kalinda finally acknowledges Golden on her way out, albeit silently. He seems a tiny bit overawed, leaning back in his chair, but a lot more impressed. I get the sense he’s thinking something along the lines of: “I’m really glad she’s on our side. I think. I hope.” What he actually says, once Kalinda has made her grand exit and left the security guard to reel in the wide open door, is: “I think I’m in love.” Peter can only smile and nod. Ironically, Golden’s statement about Kalinda has almost nothing to do with sex appeal.
Meanwhile, Alicia is called into Diane’s office by a very somber-looking pair of partners, who proceed to explain that Alicia has inadvertently brought the hospital under fire as the owner of the pharmacy that neglected to barcode Bowers’ prescription. Even worse, when Alicia returns to ASA Pine to ask her to cease investigating the pharmacy, she learns that the pharmacy didn’t have 80mg oxycodone in stock the day the prescription was filled. Now reasonable doubt is gone, and Alicia has cost SLG the hospital as a client.
Alicia brings the ASA’s new, harsher offer to Wesley: four years in prison and a revoked medical license. She also offers to help him find new representation if he wants to take it to court, as SLG wants her to end her involvement with his case ASAP. Her stress and guilt leads us to…
A small conference room at SLG. One table with two sets of power outlets and other various connectors built in. Five chairs are visible around the table in the establishing shot, two of which are occupied. Alicia sits at one end of the table, back to the open door, holding a red mug of something in her hand. (It can’t be five o’clock already, can it?) Kalinda is sitting in the middle of the far side of the table, facing in the general direction of Alicia and the door, a mostly full glass of milk on the table in front of her. (The milk has still not been explained.)
Kalinda was yet again supposed to have her feet up on the table. Yet again, I’m glad she doesn’t. According to the script she’s “just staring off into space. Thinking.” (Dangerous pastime, eh?) The description also notes that the two women are “in their separate worlds,” an idea perhaps echoed in the unusual arrangement of the chairs. When two people sit at a table, they generally either face each other or sit next to each other. We've seen Alicia and Kalinda in those two positions earlier this episode and at the end of last episode, respectively. What we see here, however, is Alicia facing the camera and Kalinda’s line of sight passing behind the lawyer’s back. I’m tempted to describe their relative positioning as metaphorical “skew lines,” even though I know that wouldn’t be accurate in a literal sense. Whatever their physical positions suggest, it doesn’t appear to inhibit their conversation.
Alicia opens: “I need a vacation.” “Yeah,” Kalinda responds, as effusive as ever. It’s actually remarkably quiet for Kalinda, who doesn’t usually shout but tends to speak audibly and with confidence. Here she sounds as exhausted as Alicia-or perhaps she’s finally learning how to be sympathetic. “He’s facing four years in prison,” Alicia elaborates, “the loss of his career. And you know what? I didn’t care.” The camera angle changes to focus on Alicia in profile in the foreground, Kalinda in about three-quarters profile in the background, ubiquitous glass of milk in front of her now. “You?” She sounds gently incredulous. (The script has it as “mock surprise”, but I’m not sure I see the “mock” in it, especially with the serious expression she has.) “I wanted his problems out of the office,” Alicia asserts, emphasizing the “out” with a dismissive hand gesture. Finally she turns her head away from the camera to face Kalinda. “What does that say about me?” she wonders rhetorically. At least I’m pretty sure it was meant to be rhetorical, but Kalinda answers nonetheless: “It says you’re becoming a lawyer.”
Kalinda delivers this line in a tone very similar to the one she used when she tried to comfort Alicia over the “hand-holding” issue back in last episode, if slightly more sympathetic. This is pretty much as comforting as Kalinda gets-more normal people might call it “matter-of-fact”-and she only gets this way around a few select people. It’s not exactly out of character, but it’s a part of her character that’s well hidden, and I think it’s behavior like this that prompts Alicia to look at her and say with a wry smile: “I’m amazed at how little I know about you.”
Now I’d venture to say that if pretty much anyone else had been in Alicia’s chair at that moment, Kalinda would have had a very different reaction. But it’s Alicia, and she seems to bring out these unusual bits of Kalinda’s personality that most people don’t get to see. Or in this case, lines like “What do you want to know?” To have Kalinda make a genuine offer like that-and so casually-is, within the scope of the show, unheard of. In these little commentaries alone I have wasted a great deal of electronic ink (or is that bytes?) hammering into the skulls of you poor unfortunate very brave souls exactly how closely Kalinda guards information, especially when it concerns herself. On the other hand, the same can be said for Alicia’s ability to invert Kalinda’s normal world order. I suppose this result was only inevitable, but Alicia doesn’t even seem to realize what an opportunity she has on her hands. Instead of prying for information (or even just asking-because let’s face it, Alicia probably wouldn’t pry if she thought it would make Kalinda uncomfortable enough to clam up), she simply says with a sigh: “I’m not sure.”
Side note Total detour: As little as Alicia feels she knows about Kalinda, it strikes me just how much she does know, especially compared to someone like Cary. Despite his eager attempts to pester the hell out of glean information from Kalinda with personal questions, Cary’s learned even less than Alicia has-Alicia who’s asked (read: pried) very little at all, but who’s actually found out quite a bit just by working with Kalinda and being observant. For example, Cary has no idea Kalinda doesn’t have a boyfriend-he doesn’t even know the right question to ask, fumbling from “Are you seeing someone?” to “Do you have a boyfriend?” with no apparent regard for the difference between the two. Alicia, on the other hand, deeply suspects that Kalinda’s gay and has (or had, as of 1x04) a…person…named Donna, whether she’s technically a girlfriend or significant other or just…Donna. (Of course, revealing slips like this tend to happen more around Alicia than Cary, but at least she picks up on them.) And while Cary busies himself with puerile come-ons and invasive questions, all to no avail, Alicia seems more content to discover things piece by piece, even if it leaves her feeling like she knows so little in the end. Even when Kalinda asks her, she isn’t sure exactly what she wants to know, and the admission sounds almost defeatist rather than “give me a second to come up with a question”. I get this image of a kid with a blank check so utterly at a loss as to where to start that it doesn’t seem worth starting at all. Alicia’s whole demeanor here is more than a little endearing, and it makes me-like Kalinda, I’m sure-resent Cary for interrupting.
The dialogue here is particularly important because it picks up on a conversation from two episodes ago (1x10 Lifeguard). In the relevant scene from that episode, Kalinda and Cary are walking away from their late-night encounter with Detective Frank Seabrook when Cary tries to get Kalinda to talk about herself. By Kalinda’s own logic, he argues, she’s “completely knowable.” “Sure,” she says, “just not to you.” The idea of knowing Kalinda recurs here in this episode, but this time it’s a matter of how well Alicia knows the investigator. Kalinda doesn’t talk around her or play games with her, doesn’t shut her down or discourage her from wondering. In fact, she’s actually encouraging it, and her response (“What do you want to know?”) sounds like nothing so much as a genuine offer. I’m sure she wouldn’t have given up terribly lengthy or revealing answers, but the point still stands-Kalinda seems to be voluntarily offering information about herself. (Every time I see this scene I feel like I should be cleaning out my ears to make sure I heard right.) Back in 1x10, the obvious question was: If not to Cary, to whom is Kalinda knowable? It would seem that she has an answer in mind.
The way Alicia settles into her chair might be interpreted to suggest that she intends to hunker down and come up with questions for Kalinda on the fly, but the very next second finds Cary walking in unannounced and-at least in Kalindaland-very unwelcome. (“Kalinda rolls her eyes: great. More Cary.” She actually says “great” aloud in the episode.) Equally unwelcome is Cary turning the chair in front of him, thereby dumping Kalinda’s legs off their resting place of choice. After glaring at him and settling back in her chair, she reacts to his news that the hospital appears to have parked Ben Bowers for fifteen minutes. Kalinda admits that’s pretty damning, and Alicia asks if it’s privileged information. Cary points out that it’s only privileged if SLG represents the hospital, which they don’t at the moment (having been fired for Alicia’s faux pas with the pharmacy). Alicia puts two and two together: “You want to blackmail the hospital to make them our client again?” She actually sounds into the idea, rather different from the way she likely would have reacted at the beginning of the season. All three smile as Kalinda adds, “I like it.” Meanwhile, “gym guy” (Trey Donovan, the trainer Cary met at Iron Muscle) has called back and is now willing to sell Cary some oxycodone. Alicia and Kalinda trade interested looks.
[Back at the Florrick residence, Molly the babysitter begins to question Zach about family therapy and his “psychosexual development,” citing the doctored photos on his computer (of the “hooker and a crack-pipe” variety) as evidence that he should probably be getting some professional help.]
Cary meets trainer Trey at the gym, apparently after hours, to conduct their little transaction. Once Trey has the money he gets swamped by police. Detective Murphy “plows” his way over, Kalinda hot on his heels. “See how good I am at repaying favors?” she asks before he has a chance to get a word in edgewise. Murphy mumbles noncommittally. Even if they’ve managed to make a go of a reciprocal back-scratching relationship-or at least a one-time trading of favors-they’re still not the happiest of couples, and Murphy still seems like too much work to be worth hanging onto as an inside source in the future. Murphy finds “the proverbial black book” while digging around Trey’s gym bag. Kalinda scans it over his shoulder (more like “around his shoulder,” given their relative heights) and finds a familiar name. “You sold you Ben Bowers?” she accuses. “The high school football player who OD’d. You sold to him?” The trainer denies it immediately: “No, I never sell to kids.” (“What a humanitarian,” Murphy mutters snarkily.) Kalinda sneers at Trey to “stop lying,” but when she goes to point out the name in the book, she realizes something crucial: Ben isn’t the only Bowers.
The next scene opens with a shot through the Bowers’ door of Alicia and Kalinda as they approach. Alicia’s the one to knock on the door, Kalinda looking a little more subdued, perhaps as a result of her discovery. Once inside, Tina Bowers brings them her prescription pill bottle and admits that Trey sold to her at the gym. She assures them that Ben never knew she bought 80mg oxycodone illegally and that he didn’t have access to her stash. (Alicia and Kalinda trade looks at this.) Tina unscrews the bottle top and pours out the pills, explaining that she counted them: exactly eleven. Kalinda briefly asks permission before sorting through them (gloves on, of course). She shows Tina two pills that look identical and explains that kids take aspirin tablets and shave them to look like oxy. (A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shot shows Alicia monitoring the situation as Kalinda speaks.) A close-up shot reveals a stamped 80mg oxy (“818”) next to a shaved aspirin. Tina picks up the two pills and inspects them as Kalinda continues: “They swap out the real oxy with the fake so it looks like no pills are missing.”
At this point in the script she was supposed to continue with the words, “Then they-” before being cut off by a nod from Alicia. (“Alicia nods to Kalinda: okay, she gets it. Kalinda nods: okay.”) In the final cut Kalinda seems more socialized and even a bit warmer, not needing to take her cues from Alicia, even if she’s not used to being quite so sympathetic about delivering bad news.
[Alicia encourages her kids to talk to her “about anything,” to which Grace responds by bringing up the HPV vaccine. Zach runs with it by adding that Molly said they’re “hypersexualized” because of Peter. Alicia is understandably upset and fires Molly at the next available opportunity-which is conveniently right at the end of the conversation with her kids.]
Back to the same cop bar (supposedly), Childs with the same beer. This time he’s sitting at the bar (though the script says “booth”), a shot glass waiting on a napkin next to his drink. Childs is less menacing; Kalinda’s less on-edge. [Kalinda is supposed to take the shot before Childs speaks here, but she ends up saving it for a much better moment later in the scene.]
“Well?” he asks before she’s managed to completely sit down. Kalinda: “They’re looking for wiretaps.” Short and succinct, if not sweet. “My wife told them.” Annoyed resignation. “Yep,” Kalinda agrees (although the show hasn’t established that she knows this to be true). “They want me to locate the recordings.” Now Childs asks: “How would you do that?” Of course, he’s not asking her how she’s going to do that-he’s asking her how Peter (et al.) intended her to do that. She doesn’t shy away from the blunt truth: “Through you.” Childs digests this for a moment. Then curiosity strikes: “Why doesn’t he just subpoena them?” Kalinda pointedly declines to answer, filling up the silence by taking her shot while Childs does mental math. “He’s worried what’s on it. Or he doesn’t remember what’s on it.” Kalinda doesn’t react (much more naturally this time than the whole “non-reaction” thing last episode). Instead, she starts getting ready to leave-he can draw his own conclusions. When Childs asks her where she’s going, she responds: “Home.” Childs is not amused. “I’m not done here,” he states in that faux-confused tone of voice that says, “I don’t know where you think you’re going when I haven’t dismissed you.” Kalinda just blinks and patiently explains, “Glenn, if you want this to work, you need to give me something to give them.” Off his exasperated pseudo-rolling of the eyes she adds, “Phone me when you have it,” and takes her leave. The script has him “look after her, suspicious,” but in the episode he ends up doing more of a sour pucker ending in a look of displeased disbelief directed somewhere down towards the bar. He isn’t happy, but I’m not sure I’d jump to “suspicious” from that particular expression.
My question here is: Whose side is Kalinda actually on? (Aside from the obvious, of course, which may very well be the only right answer.) To recap what happened in just this episode alone: Childs summoned Kalinda to a meeting on his turf and essentially tried to blackmail her into spying on Peter for him. Kalinda apparently consented but alerted Peter that Childs wants her to spy on him and report back. At her invitation Peter made her a counter-offer to play double-agent for him by previewing wiretaps Childs had made of Peter’s (and Alicia’s) home phones. Kalinda returned to Childs to report Peter’s request and (presumably) to gain access to the tapes in question. In the next scene Peter learns via Golden that Childs is going to let Kalinda listen to the tapes (or “taps,” as he says, but really tapes of the taps). According to the script, Peter is surprised that she managed to convince Childs, but in the end he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
For all that Kalinda seems to like the idea of working for Peter (though I wouldn’t discount the possibility that her attitude towards him is in some part an act), she seems to prefer playing both sides. (I’d make a crack about this being applicable to her sexual preferences as well, except that she’s shown too little romantic interest in men for me to consider her properly bisexual at this point, despite her character description.) This apparently includes helping and undercutting each side in turn. For example, Kalinda ‘betrays’ Childs by reporting his intentions to Peter, but she likewise ‘betrays’ Peter by alerting Childs that the former SA wants to listen to the wiretaps before subpoenaing them. On the other hand, these very actions clearly benefit Peter and Childs, respectively. (I suppose that’s how it must work, since the two men are directly at odds with each other.) Each man seems to think Kalinda is helping him enough that it outweighs any undermining she does in the process. It’s clear to see how precarious her situation is and how easy it must have been for her to have fallen off this tightrope and given Peter cause to fire her back when she was working for him (the first time).
Here’s hoping this bunny killer rabbit hasn’t bitten off more than she can chew.