I didn't want to watch this at first because it appeared to be a warmed-over and dumbed-down version of Grey's Anatomy. If it weren't for Mamie Gummer's fantasic acting chops and genine camera presence, in some ways, it is. I've watched only seven episodes, but I can't imagine the overall tone to change. That would be like moving the literary tone from Danielle Steele to Tolstoy. The audience might suffer mental whiplash.
The formula for this series is the same as most prime-time soaps: take a cast of characters with major, adult, life responsibilities but poor interpersonal problem-solving skills and below-average maturity levels, and then put them into situations in which no one in the viewing audience would find themselves or seek out, and, if so, would never make the mid-pubescent decisions the characters would make. It's like putting middle-school children into hospitals, law offices (LA Law, Ally McBeal), or police stations (Hill Street Blues, Blue Bloods) and watch the moral, legal and interpersonal chaos unfold. It's a way of putting the Three Stooges into Crime and Punishment scenarios: character pratfalls and emotional food fights embedded in genuine existential crises and tragic, fatal outcomes.
Unlike the unstated formulaic character of most series of this sort, Emily Owens, MD, is simply stating clearly in bold lettering the actual nature of the series: adults behaving childishly. Adolescent behavior such as gossip, talking behind each other's backs, getting 'catty' and breaking trust are the principle methods of creating each episodes' conflicts. Throw in a few genuine moral dilemmas and puzzling diagnotic conunndrums and you have the recipies for a great mind-numbing TV series. (I can almost visualize Emily and one of the other female characters eating baloney sandwiches and drinking from juice boxes at lunch, discussing, using air quotes, whether they "like" or "like like" some dreamy male intern or resident.) It's Judy Blume with adult vocabulary.
The writer's have all they need to keep this formula going indefinitely and still collect their paychecks without reaching to grasp a genuine literary challenge in their script writing tasks. So, grow up! The producers wouldn't want it any other way. Grab the popcorn and enjoy: this ain't Twin Peaks. And no one is going to talk about the last episode at the water cooler tomorrow: that's Mad Men territory.
The formula for this series is the same as most prime-time soaps: take a cast of characters with major, adult, life responsibilities but poor interpersonal problem-solving skills and below-average maturity levels, and then put them into situations in which no one in the viewing audience would find themselves or seek out, and, if so, would never make the mid-pubescent decisions the characters would make. It's like putting middle-school children into hospitals, law offices (LA Law, Ally McBeal), or police stations (Hill Street Blues, Blue Bloods) and watch the moral, legal and interpersonal chaos unfold. It's a way of putting the Three Stooges into Crime and Punishment scenarios: character pratfalls and emotional food fights embedded in genuine existential crises and tragic, fatal outcomes.
Unlike the unstated formulaic character of most series of this sort, Emily Owens, MD, is simply stating clearly in bold lettering the actual nature of the series: adults behaving childishly. Adolescent behavior such as gossip, talking behind each other's backs, getting 'catty' and breaking trust are the principle methods of creating each episodes' conflicts. Throw in a few genuine moral dilemmas and puzzling diagnotic conunndrums and you have the recipies for a great mind-numbing TV series. (I can almost visualize Emily and one of the other female characters eating baloney sandwiches and drinking from juice boxes at lunch, discussing, using air quotes, whether they "like" or "like like" some dreamy male intern or resident.) It's Judy Blume with adult vocabulary.
The writer's have all they need to keep this formula going indefinitely and still collect their paychecks without reaching to grasp a genuine literary challenge in their script writing tasks. So, grow up! The producers wouldn't want it any other way. Grab the popcorn and enjoy: this ain't Twin Peaks. And no one is going to talk about the last episode at the water cooler tomorrow: that's Mad Men territory.