General Hospital's Best of the Week, December 29, 2025 - January 2, 2026: Threats wrapped in smiles and a town on edge

It was a super short General Hospital week, as we had New Year’s Eve on Wednesday and New Year’s Day on Thursday. Wednesday was something that rarely happens on soap - a repeat! It was one from shortly after Dex was murdered, but I didn’t have time to rewatch it. But Thursday was the long-awaited sendoff for Luke Spencer! Granted, it too was a repeat, but it was worth it: the episode from July 27, 2015, where Luke said goodbye to Port Charles.

Even though he didn’t go out in a blaze of glory, fans will still remember the beloved scamp who never saw himself as a hero but saved the world a few times over. Since there were so few new episodes this week, it may pop up in one of the later segments.

Port Charles rang in the new year by reminding us that nothing says “fresh start” like waking up in the wrong bed and immediately plotting someone else’s legal downfall. Curtis and Jordan started things off horizontal and optimistic, Molly followed suit with Cody, and Alexis followed tradition by deciding the cleanest way to save Willow was to toss Michael directly under the nearest speeding bus. Apparently, juries get confused by too many facts now, so the new strategy is vibes, vibes, and one very specific scapegoat. Turner clocked it instantly, Sonny saw it coming from three zip codes away, and Kristina did what Kristina does best: opened a folder she wasn’t meant to see and blew the whole thing wide open.

Meanwhile, Sidwell spent the week proving that subtlety is dead and intimidation is his love language. He leaned on Marco, leaned harder on Laura, demanded helipads like a Bond villain with zoning issues, and then took things fully into “call the police yesterday” territory by casually warning a child that kids can disappear if you blink wrong. Laura’s face said everything the script didn’t, especially once Charlotte repeated Sidwell’s “regards” like it was a polite dinner message instead of a threat wrapped in a smile. Throw in Ezra auditioning for Worst Political Messenger Alive, Jordan enjoying her villain-adjacent employment a little too much, and Michael announcing he plans to bury Willow on the stand, and the week landed exactly where it should have: with Laura’s eyebrow raised and her stomach turning, which is pretty much Port Charles’ official warning siren.

Spotlight scenes

The week suddenly stopped feeling like standard soap chaos and tipped into something far more uncomfortable the moment Sidwell crossed a line you don’t uncross. It was the kind of scene that makes you get up and double-check the locks on your door, because he didn’t shout, didn’t threaten outright, didn’t even change his tone, and somehow that restraint made everything feel worse. Running into Charlotte and Ace outside Bobbie’s should have been harmless, almost incidental, and Sidwell played it that way right up until he didn’t. The warning came wrapped in a smile and delivered like casual advice, the kind that pretends it’s being helpful while making your stomach drop: “kids disappear,” and “blink, and they’re gone.”

The show wisely let the scene be as uncomfortable as possible, no dramatic score swell, no immediate payoff, just Charlotte absorbing it and later repeating it to Laura as if it were a polite message passed along. Laura’s reaction did the rest. Laura’s eyebrow went up first, almost on instinct, and then came the look that followed once the message actually landed. Sidwell didn’t need to threaten her outright because he’d already said enough. In a week stuffed with courtroom strategies and power plays, this was the beat that stopped feeling like a plot and started feeling personal, and the show was smart enough not to rush past it.

Verbal knockouts

Alexis, Kristina, and Molly had to explain to poor Danny that he needed to leave, or Drew wouldn’t let anyone see Scout. Alexis reminded him that once she exonerates Willow, the restraining orders will be lifted (yeah, right). And for the time being, it “sucks.” Molly added, “And for now, sucky Drew holds all the power.”

Cody decided that if Molly couldn’t escape work for New Year’s, then New Year’s would simply be air-dropped directly into her office like an unsolicited morale boost. He checked first, because even chaos has manners, and Molly greeted him at the door with the kind of theatrical gravitas usually reserved for masked vigilantes unveiling a hidden cave: “Welcome to my legal lair.” Cody, clearly choosing to lean in rather than back away slowly, took one look around and replied, “So this is where the magic happens,” which is a bold thing to say in a room full of case files, fluorescent lighting, and the quiet knowledge that none of this will end well.

Wardrobe MVPs

It was a three-way tie this week!

First up, Willow’s outfit was a black dress that doesn’t bother trying to be friendly. Long sleeves. Lace layered just enough to catch the light when she moves, not enough to soften it. The pattern feels intentional, almost architectural, climbing across the fabric instead of decorating it. Nothing flashy. Nothing accidental.

Next, Lucas had a grey suit cut close and worn properly. Jacket, vest, trousers all in sync, the check pattern subtle enough that you notice it only when he turns. White shirt, dark red tie, no looseness anywhere. It reads prepared and composed. The kind of suit that says the conversation is already over, even if no one else knows it yet.

Finally, Turner was rocking her work/lunch with a white sweater with a wide neckline that folds over itself instead of sitting stiffly. Soft, but not sloppy. Comfortable in a way that feels chosen, not lazy. The sleeves fall naturally. It’s the kind of outfit that signals openness without vulnerability, like someone showing up to talk things through, not put on a performance.

Best camera moment

The best camera moment is from Luke Spencer’s 2015 exit, where he walks off into the fog.

Even as a rerun, it still carried more weight than half the fresh material around it, which says less about nostalgia and more about how deliberately it was done. Re-airing the episode to honor Anthony Geary after his death didn’t feel like a programming placeholder. It felt like a reminder. Luke didn’t explode, didn’t collapse, didn’t get dragged back into Port Charles for one last gun battle. He faced his damage, said what needed saying, and walked into the fog with a bag over his shoulder like a man who finally understood that staying would only make things worse.

Snark aside, that restraint matters. GH trusted the audience to sit with ambiguity instead of forcing closure, and the image still lands because it treats departure as a choice, not a punishment. In a week full of people weaponizing fear and calling it strategy, Luke’s quiet exit stood out as the rare moment where the show let a character leave with honesty instead of noise.

Observations, complaints & unhinged theories

Let’s start with the obvious: Port Charles has apparently decided that the best way to solve a shooting is to blame Michael and call it clarity. Alexis' insistence that too many suspects would “confuse the jury” is either the boldest legal strategy imaginable or the fastest way to get disbarred in three acts. Everyone in town knows Michael didn’t do it, which of course makes him the perfect soap scapegoat, but the speed at which half the canvas shrugged and went, “Well, maybe,” was impressive even by GH standards.

Sidwell, meanwhile, has officially entered the “absolutely not” tier of villains. Threatening a toddler via a polite, conversational aside is next-level gross, and the fact that he immediately followed it up by pitching Charlotte as potential leverage like he was brainstorming office supplies was… a choice. Here’s the unhinged theory portion: Sidwell absolutely believes he’s untouchable right now, which means the fall is coming, and it’s going to be spectacular. Bonus theory: Ezra is either going to flip so hard he sprains something, or he’s going to keep bootlicking until Laura personally pushes him into the harbor. No middle ground.

Final gripe: everyone keeps talking about “what’s best for the kids” while actively making choices that will require years of therapy and at least one dramatic confrontation in the Quartermaine living room. Michael announcing he’ll “bury Willow” on the stand feels like the kind of vow that never survives cross-examination, Jordan enjoying her villain-adjacent job a little too much is setting off narrative alarm bells, and Curtis and Jordan’s shiny reset already has an expiration date stamped on it. If GH is smart, all of this converges soon, preferably with Laura staring someone down in silence while Sidwell realizes he picked the wrong town, the wrong family, and very much the wrong toddler.

Things I yelled at the TV

I absolutely yelled when Alexis decided the smartest way to save Willow was to pin everything on Michael and call it “clarity.” There was a full, out-loud “THAT IS NOT HOW JURIES WORK!” followed by a more bitter “So we’re just pretending reasonable doubt is just… confidence now?” I may have also reminded the room that piling blame onto one person doesn’t magically make the other evidence evaporate, no matter how calmly Alexis delivered the plan.

I definitely yelled when Sidwell did the soft-voice, polite-menace routine with Charlotte and Ace. Not a gasp. Not a whisper. A sharp, immediate “Nope,” followed by “YOU DO NOT TALK TO CHILDREN LIKE THAT!” And when he later claimed he was just “sending a message,” I hit him with a slow, dangerous “Oh, Laura is going to end you,” because at that point the show wasn’t teasing a threat anymore, it was drawing a line.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I yelled at Michael for announcing he was ready to bury Willow on the stand like he was delivering a victory speech instead of actively wrecking his own case. That was a full “Why would you say that out loud!?!,” paired with “SONNY IS TRYING TO HELP YOU!” and capped off with the quiet realization that no one in Port Charles has ever learned from a warning in their life.

EPILOGUE

And so the week ended the only way Port Charles knows how: with everyone absolutely convinced they’re making the right choice while actively lighting the fuse on next week’s disaster. Legal strategies were rebranded as moral clarity, grown adults threatened kids with polite smiles, and at least three people announced their endgame out loud like the town isn’t wired with secret listeners and dramatic irony. Laura’s eyebrow became the most reliable law enforcement tool on canvas, Jordan continued enjoying a job she will absolutely regret enjoying, and Michael volunteered himself for emotional annihilation like it was a character-building exercise. Nothing exploded. No one got arrested. Blackmail remained at a minimum. Which of course means everything is about to go horribly wrong, and frankly, after this week, that feels less like a threat and more like a promise.

General Hospital can be seen weekdays on ABC and Hulu.