August 1, 2014 at 11:44 am #326106
The Knick – Season 1 (Cinemax)
Series Premiere: Friday, August 8, 2014
Directed by Steven Soderbergh, the drama set in 1900 in New York City follows the lives and works of the staff of Knickerbocker Hospital including new lead surgeon, Dr. John Thackery (Clive Owen); Dr. Everett Gallinger (Eric Johnson); Dr. Bertie Chickering Jr. (Michael Angarano); Dr. Algernon Edwards (Andre Holland); and Cornelia Robertson (Juliet Rylance), the daughter of hospital benefactor, Captain August Robertson.
Metacritic: 76/100 (36 reviews)August 1, 2014 at 11:48 am #326108
Tim Goodman, Hollywood Reporter
A bold, stylishly directed period medical drama powered by the
winning duo of director Steven Soderbergh and star Clive Owen.
The Knick is not only an ambitious, intriguing and
slow-burning new endeavor from Cinemax; it’s also an interesting gambit
from the channel’s more famous offspring, HBO.
Created by Jack Amiel and Michael Begler and directed and executive produced by Steven Soderbergh,
this is a drama already freighted with its own uniqueness: Soderbergh
“unretired” to direct all 10 first-season episodes and star Clive Owen, who initially thought The Knick would
be a creative diversion between films, took it on as his most important
job. Beyond that, Soderbergh actually demanded of HBO executives that The Knick be on Cinemax.
That’s why this is more than just a very tricky, unique dramatic
collaboration between a big-name director and star. It has ramifications
in empire building and will rely heavily on HBO’s noted patience with
In case anyone is mystified by the bold names above, The Knick
is also a triumphant exclamation point on the notion that a writer’s
past work is not necessarily an indication of future potential.
Both Amiel and Begler have a resume that even they call “middling” (TV comedies like Empty Nest and The Tony Danza Show, as well aslight comedic films like Raising Helen, The Shaggy Dog andBig Miracle).
And yet here they are, creators of something truly bold, a
turn-of-the-century medical drama that calls in every last favor that
HBO demands of its viewers — specifically, endurance for the marathon at
The Knick is what everyone in New York in 1900 calls The
Knickerbocker Hospital. As higher-end hospitals move uptown and away
from the problems of the city’s vast poor and immigrant population, the
Knick stays put, led by Dr. John Thackery (Owen), a pioneering surgeon
who himself was inspired by the Knick’s first such figure, Dr.
Christenson (Matt Frewer). The Knick is fascinated by the leap
in medical procedures and treatments that places surgeons like Dr.
Thackery on the cusp of discovery, despite a disastrously high failure
rate for experimentation that takes a toll on those watching death win
This is a series that makes no rush to win support during its pilot,
then audaciously walks the audience through another two hours of medical
bleakness before arriving, in episode four, almost fully formed. That’s
the HBO model to a scientific description, but in this case “almost” is
an apt qualifier, because the series really arrives at its most
important milestone by the sixth episode. By then, The Knick has fully enthralled with its merits.
It’s a serious work of television that is angling to dramatize
numerous weighty subjects, and isn’t overly concerned with distracting
the audience with shiny objects in the process.
Viewers must have a real willingness to see blood and muck, not to
mention the ability to stomach the sexism and racism on display in the
story. After all, the show traces the first baby steps into the
20th century, as horses and buggies reluctantly give way to motor cars,
electricity is considered a real privilege and medicine — the core of The Knick — is less a hit and miss experiment than a miss-after-miss carousel of dead bodies.
But what makes the series compelling is its early focus on two men:
Owen’s Dr. Thackery, and the African-American Dr. Algernon Edwards (Andre Holland),
who returns to New York after studying and making a name for himself in
Paris. He comes to the Knick at the behest of Cornelia Robertson (Juliet Rylance), the daughter of a progressive shipping magnate.
Thackery wants no part of Edwards and doesn’t believe the struggling
institution will be served by trying to be New York’s first integrated
hospital. The other doctors also have predictably racist reactions to
Edwards, but The Knick’s emphasis is on two very talented
doctors going about their work and coping with the fallout from it.
Owens does an excellent job in making Thackery complex. He’s not immune
to Edwards’ skill and isn’t outlandishly racist; he’s first and foremost
a product of the times. Thackery is also pragmatic, and buckling under
pressure (he injects liquid cocaine to make it through the days of
rampant death from failed surgeries, and spends many of his evenings in
an opium den in Chinatown); the last thing he wants to consider is
making his life more complicated by having a black doctor on staff.
In turn, Holland is stoic and stewing as Edwards, dealing with a
whole other layer of grief by drinking and then picking bar fights (it’s
a chance to show off another skill he learned in Paris: boxing).
Though we know that Thackery and Edwards will, at some point, have to
face (if not embrace), the situations they find themselves in, the slow
movement forward is helped immensely by a large number of minor
characters. Among those are Chris Sullivan as Knick ambulance driver Tom Cleary, an Irish brawler who fends off other ambulance drivers, and Cara Seymour
as Sister Harriet, a nun who helps the children and pregnant mothers at
the Knick while dabbling in something a bit darker on the side.
The series also becomes increasingly adept at depicting the class structure of the times and the underbelly of New York.
Tying it all together, of course, is Soderbergh’s direction,
employing hand-held cameras and precise lighting to get just the right
sense of the New York atmosphere. He’s also a master of distinctive
close-ups that allow the actors — particularly Owen — to wordlessly
expand the emotional context of their characters. Soderbergh is also not
shy about stylistic flourishes, as when he choreographs a wordless,
blurry, staccato-rhythmed alley fight that’s a real highlight of the
There’s no sugarcoating what watching The Knick is like, as
the director doesn’t flinch at graphic, sometimes disturbing scenes of
blood loss or, for example, Dr. Thackery treating an ex-flame who has
lost her entire nose to syphilis. (And yes, the arm-to-nose graft
process is not skipped over…ahem).
Few channels could get away with such a stark depiction of medicine in America, and what The Knick
will do almost certainly is make every single viewer happy to live in
the present, not the past, if he or she is worried about ever having a
Soderbergh’s demand to be on Cinemax is an intriguing secondary
storyline. Clearly, as someone who has already worked with HBO, he’s
privy to the fact that Cinemax is being rebranded. It wants to be the
home of “five star” movies, but more ambitiously wants to be reimagined
as, if you will, “the next HBO.” Sister channels be damned.
Cinemax already started to mold itself with fare like Strike Back and Banshee,
both better-than-expected dramas that lean heavily on the male
demographic’s interest in action and nudity. That both shows are a notch
or two above what you’d normally imagine with that description is
apparently not success enough. Soderbergh, for his part, knew that
shifting a very HBO-like drama such as The Knick to Cinemax would, in turn, make his show the poster series of the remodel. And he liked that idea.
Ah, but the gambit is definitely not without pitfalls. For starters, The Knick does not pay off immediately like Strike Force and Banshee.
Most of its action takes place in an operating room “theater,” and most
of the nudity it contains comes from corpses. It is not, in any way, an
That’s not to say that The Knick is the wrong choice to rebrand a channel. But it’s certainly a bold and possibly strange one.
However, The Knick has already been renewed for a second
season, owing greatly to the passion of Soderbergh and Owen. The
question now is whether that passion will translate into viewers.August 1, 2014 at 11:51 am #326109
Maureen Ryan, Huffington Post
Like a shot of adrenaline to the heart, “The Knick”
arrives just in time to save us from the summer doldrums, and as a side
bonus, it further enhances Cinemax’s status as one of television’s most
consistently entertaining networks.
Let Cinemax’s more ponderous corporate sibling, HBO, make gigantic investments in sprawling affairs like “Game of Thrones” and bet heavily on eat-your-vegetables programming like “The Leftovers.”
For the most part, HBO does what it is expected to do: It makes deals
with A-list talent and up-and-comers with the right industry
connections, and it dutifully fills its roster with the kinds of shows
its well-heeled audience expects it to have. And of course, some of
those shows are very good.
Where Cinemax is concerned, expectations are few, and thus, within
certain budgetary and programming limits, it can have fun with friskier
and riskier ideas, provided they’re wrapped in the right kind of
In the last few years, Cinemax has unleashed slippery, smart genre gems like “Banshee,” “Hunted” and “Strike Back”
and quietly begun shedding its reputation as the cheesy Skinemax of
yore. You’ll still find regular displays of naked human flesh on the
channel, but every single one of those shows is a whole lot smarter than
it necessarily has to be. This is a canny strategy, because building
passion among viewers over the long term is now the smartest play out
there, wherever scripted television surfaces. A few years ago, Starz
appeared poised to become the go-to source for deceptively smart
pay-cable crowd pleasers, but, around the time “Spartacus” came to an
end and its audience was casting about for another bloody, lusty
adventure tale, the quality of Starz’s shows fell off a cliff (the upcoming “Outlander” excepted).
Meanwhile, Cinemax stuck to its B-movie TV
template and threw some of its money at Steven Soderbergh, who got
Clive Owen and a cast of lesser-known actors to take a stab at the
hospital-drama genre. Savvy move. The results of Soderbergh’s latest
foray into series television are frequently terrific.
“The Knick,” which was written by Jack Amiel and Michael Begler and
directed in full by Soderbergh, raises the bar even higher for Cinemax,
in part by skillfully straddling the line between Prestige TV and the
artful execution of one of TV’s most stalwart genres. The lead character
of “The Knick” is a drug-addicted Difficult Man, cut from anti-hero
cloth that’s getting ragged around the edges, but Owen is tremendously
charismatic in the role of Dr. John Thackery, and “The Knick” isn’t so
fancy that it disdains the kind of clandestine hookups and
babies-in-peril subplots that are the hallmarks of any self-respecting
medical drama. Anything you’ve seen on “Grey’s Anatomy” may well turn up
in “The Knick,” but because the latter show is set in 1900, saws and
hand-cranks are more common than fancy diagnostic machines and the
medicines we take for granted. It’s not difficult to raise the stakes
when the doctors regularly root around inside patients’ body cavities —
without gloves, of course.
In addition to the artful fusion of procedural chestnuts and Prestige
Drama conventions, there’s another combination that truly makes “The
Knick” a real kick: It unites the cerebral observational powers of
Soderbergh with subject matter that is literally visceral (never, ever
watch this show while eating). There is always a sense of control in
Soderbergh’s exacting vision, even when characters and stories are
spinning into chaos. The marriage of that rigorous intellectual
sensibility to the pulsing, unpredictable life of a big-city hospital
makes for a wonderfully lively concoction, one full of insight,
curiosity and delightfully rich segues.
But there is a deep undercurrent of anguish that helps power this
energetic series: “The Knick” is a piercing look at the discipline it
takes to engage in the brutal task of saving lives while reining in
one’s own emotional reactions. Soderbergh’s efficient, inventive camera
work and the electronic score by Cliff Martinez work together to leave
the viewer feeling slightly jarred much of the time, but that feels
entirely intentional. None of what transpires has the sepia-toned
sentimentality of a show like “Downton Abbey,” and that dedication to
palpable, pulsating realism makes the operations and painful dilemmas
land with that much more impact. “The Knick” is the first show in a long
time that truly reminded me of “Deadwood”; both are scuffed, dusty,
lived in and fascinated by what it costs individuals to build a future
in the face of endless greed and stupidity.
There’s no doubt that Thackery and his staff do good every day, but
they’re working in a poor neighborhood full of desperate immigrants;
disease and death remain overwhelming realities, and the staff’s
victories are drops in a bloody bucket. Yet turn-of-the-century New York
also buzzed with a rich brew of colliding cultures, energies and
inventions, all of which thrum through “The Knick” like the (often
faulty) new electric wiring in the hospital. Thackery and his fellow
doctors are intensely excited by the advances being made in surgery —
some of which they come up with themselves — but the failure rate for
every new procedure is high and disease still takes a terrifying toll,
even among the wealthier classes. And yet, driven by a combination of
terror and curiosity, the Knick’s staff soldiers on.
It’s no spoiler to say that Thackery takes refuge in drugs to take
the edge off: The very first scene of the show depicts him stumbling out
of an opium den at daybreak. Though the sly commentary on our modern
medical system is one of the subtler attractions of “The Knick”
(patients are, as ever, viewed as profit centers first), it’s hard for
me not to see the show as a metaphor for the entertainment industry:
It’s about people who are willing to take risks and perform their craft
in front of audiences (most operations are observed by dozens of
onloookers), and those who take the biggest risks are constantly beaten
down by naysayers, doubters and disbelievers. Also, there’s a lot of
cocaine around. A lot.
Amist the propulsive energy and fine performances, there are some
eye-roll-inducing moments. “The Knick,” like so many before it, falls
into some anti-hero TV traps: There are woefully underwritten, naked
prostitutes wandering around, and a few other female characters don’t
fare much better. (One frustrated wife actually says, “You always want
more!” which must be on Page 1 of the “The Ultimate Guide to Writing
Female Characters on Anti-Hero TV Show.”)
But throughout its first seven episodes, “The Knick” — like “Grey’s
Anatomy” and “ER” before it — uses a series of sturdy hospital tropes
to delve deeply into the complicated lives of a wide array of
characters, and that may be its saving grace: Thackery is its center but
not its sole point of view. Sharing extensive screen time with Thackery
is Cornelia Robertson (Juliet Rylance), whose father is one of the
hospital’s chief benefactors and who hates the idea of giving up her
beloved work when she eventually marries; Dr. Algernon Edwards (André
Holland), an innovative Harvard graduate who faces ferocious racism yet
matches Thackery in his dedication to his craft (and in his craftiness);
Lucy Elkins (Eve Hewson), a new nurse whose demure facade masks a deep
curiosity about urban life; and the Irish immigrant Sister Harriet (Cara
Seymour), who runs the Knick’s orphanage and sees up close how hard
life is for immigrant families — especially penniless mothers.
It’s a world of saturated colors and crowded rooms; the homes of both
the rich and poor are cluttered, and, no matter a family’s class or
status, it feels like the walls are closing in on them. In the wards of
the hospital, however, there is wide open space and shining floors;
there, the chaos and pain of the world are put into some kind of order.
The operating theater itself is almost totally white, like Thackery’s
shoes. The purity, of course, is a lie: Thackery and his fellow doctors
are often covered in blood, ripping and grasping and slicing in urgent
attempts to save lives — and to burnish their own reputations. Thackery
never sees those things as mutually exclusive, of course.
The doctors emerge from that white space, where you can always hear
the sound of water dripping, covered in blood, empty and spent, even if
the procedure was a success. The next discovery, the next performance,
may bring even more radically wonderful or harrowing developments.
If not, there’s always more cocaine.August 5, 2014 at 1:12 pm #326110
Matt Zoller Seitz, New York Magazine
“A servant doesn’t talk back to his master,” a loan shark tells a debtor in the early-20th-century period drama The Knick, which is far and away the best thing Cinemax has ever produced. It’s just a throwaway line, but it comes close to summing up this series from creators Jack Amiel and Michael Begler and executive producer Steven Soderbergh, who directed every episode. The Knick is not merely set in the past; it’s a statement about the past, and a warning about how the past can reclaim the present if we’re not careful. Servants and masters (literal and figurative) are everywhere. Power dynamics are in the foreground of each scene.
The show’s title is a nickname for New York’s Knickerbocker Hospital, where Dr. John Thackery (Clive Owen), a cocaine addict and casual racist, has just been installed as chief of surgery following a sudden staff upheaval. John butts heads with Cornelia Robertson (Juliet Rylance), who runs the for-profit hospital on behalf of her social-reform-minded new-money dad, as well as with pretty much everyone else on staff, including Dr. Algernon Edwards (André Holland), an African-American surgeon with European hospital experience who’s been made the deputy chief of surgery, against John’s wishes, as a precondition of getting the place wired for electricity. As on all hospital shows, the building serves as a crossroads for the city and becomes a microcosm of the larger society, a petri dish in which social malaise can be treated and reforms incubated. Representatives of every class, race, and ethnicity pass through the Knick’s doors at one point or another, and the world’s issues are given an old-fashioned dramatic (often melodramatic) workout. Not since Deadwood has a period-drama production designed to a fare-thee-well and steeped in nasty atmosphere been so politically astute about who has power over whom and why—although the subtler brand of gallows humor and Soderbergh’s fondness for intricately choreographed long takes aligns The Knick with a different TV classic that Deadwood creator David Milch worked on, Hill Street Blues. (The show feels a bit like BBC America’s Copper, right down to the black doctor, but it’s set nearly 40 years ahead on the American time line and is artistically superior in every way.)
Whether it’s women trying to mine a bit of autonomy from the margins of a male-dominated society or newly arrived European immigrants struggling with whether to assimilate or wall themselves off from Wasp culture or African-Americans less than a half-century away from slavery fighting to define themselves, every scene admits that, to quote the song, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord, but you’re gonna have to serve somebody. TV dramas set in the modern era rarely examine this stuff in such a head-on way, urging viewers to draw inferences about power relationships simply by how they arrange the material, yet always keeping the scene’s meanings fluid and open-ended, so that one can never accuse the writers of making a single, simplistic point about history and congratulating themselves on their supposed cleverness.
Consider a playful bit of crosscutting in the opening of episode two. The sequence juxtaposes Cornelia’s wake-up routine (servant girl opening her bedroom curtains, cooks and maids serving her and her father and mother breakfast) with that of Algernon, who rents a room in a seedy boardinghouse with a shared bathroom. As Cornelia enjoys her leisurely morning meal and discusses hospital business with her pop, Algernon inches along in a line with other boarders, all of them black and male. The juxtaposition has a simple message that we grasp right away, but within seconds the scene has morphed and is making a series of increasingly sophisticated points. Cornelia’s father’s condescension toward her reminds us that, for all her monetary privilege, she cannot entirely escape the paternalism at the heart of her daily life. Back at the boardinghouse, a tall African-American menaces Algernon, demanding to know how a black man acquired such fancy shoes. “Paris,” Algernon replies, then adds—unnecessarily and surely out of resentment—“France.” “Nigger, I know where Paris is,” the man growls. Algernon barely has two dimes to rub together, but to this bully in the restroom line, he’s a rich brat putting on airs, and Algernon’s reaction to him isn’t drastically different from the way that certain whites on the hospital staff look at him: as if he’s an interloping nuisance at best, a threat at worst. (The confrontation over the shoes has one of the most satisfying conclusions I’ve seen in quite some time, and its final shot is truly badass.)
Lest you go into The Knick steeling yourself for a glorified homework assignment, it should be said that at no point is the show concerned solely with the political dimensions of its characters—such matters grow organically from the predicaments they find themselves in. And its one-damn-thing-after-another plotting keeps moving all the major players relentlessly forward, so that you’re always learning new things about them—little revelations that add new wrinkles to their personalities while jibing with what we already knew or suspected. John’s volcanic dourness, which is complicated by flashbacks to his friendship with his mentor (Matt Frewer), is deepened further when an ex-lover arrives, asking help in treating a hideous disease; but John never seems soft or “sensitive,” because The Knick shows how committed he is to his racist attitudes, favoring a mediocre white doctor, Everett Gallinger (Eric Johnson), over Algernon even when his bigotry is causing an almost farcically ridiculous level of harm to the hospital. The chain-smoking nun Sister Harriet (Cara Seymour) and a looming loudmouth ambulance driver named Tom Cleary (Chris Sullivan) spar verbally when the nun is on smoke breaks, but what seems a somewhat typical (if hilarious) rivalry turns troubling as the show goes on, as a direct result of Cleary learning that Sister Harriet has a secret life of sorts—one that’s a natural outgrowth of the power inequities the show illustrates so deftly.
The Knick is the rare series that works through its themes in visual as well as literary terms. The arrival of electricity at the hospital acquires great significance as the show goes on; it signifies the point at which one century formally passed on and another replaced it, but the technological changeover is hampered by incompetence (patients dying during operations, nurses getting shocked), by graft (the Tammany Hall kickback culture shortchanged the electricians), and by individual resentments (John vents his mounting fury on a fuse box, plunging an entire hospital wing into darkness). Soderbergh’s direction makes maximum rhetorical use of darkness and light, staging clandestine activities and the lives of poor people in grottolike interiors and favoring the rich with allover illumination. The Knick treats the politically progressive instinct as a humanistic light source, guiding previously marginalized people out of the gloom, and implicitly warns that without eternal vigilance, we could easily return to the dark days. When Algernon, effectively shut out of the daily life of the hospital, opens a secret clinic for the indigent in the basement, the episode cuts between his dungeonesque facilities and the brightly lit and enormous operating theater where the white surgeons and nurses work. At one point, Algernon blocks a window on the door leading to the secret clinic with the front page of a newspaper. It’s The Sun.September 3, 2014 at 3:21 pm #326111
I really don’t like this show’s camera work. Why is it all hand held? Like, I adore Steven Soderbergh but I just really don’t like how this show is filmed. It’s really distractingSeptember 8, 2014 at 1:12 am #326112
Binge watched the 4 episodes that have aired, and i have to say i absolutely LOVE this show. There’s something to be said for the production values, cinematography, and more impressively that soundtrack in this show.. Quite a bit to be said, in fact. Cliff Martinezâ€™s score is sublime, and so engrossing. Andre Holland is a revelation, and I can see awards traction going his way. The most intriguing character on Television right now.
From the Pilot (Method over Madness), I loved when they cut all music during the surgeries. The opening surgery: The precision, the camera work. TENSE. Beautifully shot.
–Clive Owen as drug-addled Dr. John Thackery is spot on and engrossing. Jerky, obnoxious. What a performance
-The scene where he is going through drug withdrawal and makes nurse Lucy Elkins shoot cocaine into his penis. LOL What jerk. What a character for him to portray.
– The ambulance drivers bring the hilarity to the show. Those two are scene stealers.
I love it.September 8, 2014 at 9:06 am #326113
I think the latest episode is the strongest one yet, much better than the previous two. Love the dynamics between Thackery and Nurse Elkins. Cornelia and Algernon are interesting as well while those corrupt characters come off too one-note. The camera staying at long shot for so long can sometimes be annoying, but overall aspects of the production are well done.September 8, 2014 at 4:51 pm #326114
That first surgery performed in the pilot was brilliantly filmed. My medical school student heart was in heaven. Loved it. The cinematography is insane, the soundtrack is bold and that cocaine/penis scene was wicked but unexpected. Very good episode!September 8, 2014 at 5:10 pm #326115
From the Pilot (Method over Madness), I loved when they cut all music during the surgeries. The opening surgery: The precision, the camera work. TENSE. Beautifully shot.
Don’t have Cinemax, but I’ve seen the first three episodes, thanks to HBO showing the reruns. Hope they continue to do that. Haven’t seen when the fourth ep will air yet, though. But glad you brought up the surgery, and the very welcome lack of music during those scenes. Watching Grey’s Anatomy, the music would be so annoyingly loud at times, and it would compete with the dialog so much, I’d need to turn on closed captioning. Totally unnecessary. Came to think of GA as merely a vehicle to sell lousy pop music on iTunes. But back to The Knick, it’s also interesting to watch those surgeries where no one is wearing masks or gloves. I also like how they don’t shy away from the blood and guts. I also love the cinematography, and the general “look” to the show. I think Clive Owen is doing a great job. Feared that it might be too much like House meets Grey’s Anatomy, but so far, so good, and I’m in for as long as HBO offers the repeats.September 8, 2014 at 9:56 pm #326116
It’s just sad that the show is only averaging 400k viewers per episode. Luckily HBO has taken over and started airing repeat episodes as from last Saturday, so hopefully that will drive viewers to Cinemax to check this out.September 9, 2014 at 5:50 am #326117
I watched the first episode, kind of liked but I dunno if I can fit one more show in my watching schedule, trying to lesser this addiction in the last few months lol.September 21, 2014 at 2:46 am #326118
The pilot was overall well-made and gripping, but the more that I think about it, the more that it bothers me, especially since my issues are with the writing and directing. I cannot say what this show is actually about, which is the opposite of what a pilot is supposed to do. Sure, surgical procedures a century ago were barbaric, but that alone will not make a show. In terms of the directing, some of the shooting techniques were a bit questionable, but more importantly, the script actually had a lot of humour in it that seems to have gone over the head of Steven Soderbergh, seeing as he directed everything with equal seriousness. The punchlines jarred. This is the most gruesome show on television, by the way.
As for the Emmys, people are getting too caught up on how this airs on Cinemax. Just treat it like an HBO show. It is even repeating on HBO and those broadcasts are out-rating the originals on Cinemax. It is on Cinemax instead of HBO because Soderbergh did not want to be overshadowed by Game of Thrones and HBO agreed because they are trying to establish their secondary network. The production values are high and the big names are there. I expect it to do well at the Emmys and Soderbergh could very well win directing, since they love their Oscar winners and nominees in that category. He does need to be commended for serving as director, editor, cinematographer and executive producer on every episode (even going into next season). Now, where is everyone?September 21, 2014 at 3:29 am #326119
Now, where is everyone?September 21, 2014 at 4:21 am #326120
I care. The latest episode was another strong one.
I mean…September 21, 2014 at 5:23 am #326121
I love this show for how far they are exploring all of the characters and the comparisons to House should be over by now because the drug abuse of Thackery has been pushed into the background and the show has really taken a better approach to focusing on the medical advances which I love. Algernon and Cornelia have become such great characters and I apperciate the work that is been done on the show and overall I am loving the show and while the show can be quite dark at times there are some great comedy moments such as the gif above which had me laughing so hard.