You know you’re playing with fire, when the world of TV and your real world collide. When TV situations become so real, they develop the surging potential to bring real life to a grinding halt. When a crisis on TV has you tight-fisted and the worry gets in the way of normal programming.
Thing is, one evening last week, I found myself butt-fused in my beanbag, blaming Izzy for choosing to cut Denny’s damned LVAD wire, at an inopportune 5.30 pm, leading to repercussions that resulted in a 1.5 hour season finale. One that I couldn’t possibly turn off, and come back to after a run. Izzy made me miss my run the other day. That’s how engrossed I was.
That’s when it hit me. The addiction of the worst kind has struck: trash TV meets + irrational OCD. Where I begin watching a stupid show, and feel compelled to finish it because…well because I have show-completion OCD. There I said it. Silly as it sounds, it is a thing, and I am now hurtling wildly through Grey’s Anatomy, oscillating between feelings of extreme disgust and OMG-why-am-I-still-watching-this to eyes peeled, fighting sleep late into the night, so engrossed I cannot turn it off.
I have to say, though, that seasons 1 and 2, however trashy and lowbrow, with all the sleeping around and the miraculous hospital victories and the bimbette moments, are quite smartly tied together with a see-saw plot (if one can call it that). Every other episode is flaky and pointless, and just when your interest is fading and you are stifling your fifth yawn, a strategic sneaking in of McDreamy doing something utterly sexy, draws you back in. Anything ranging from just tilting his head and striking that quintessential dreamy smile. To leaning tantalizingly on an operating table, in his scrubs. Or sometimes just doing something absolutely normal for a character like him: saving lives. Yeah, its kind of his job. But he makes it so damn sexy.
As you can see, McDreamy’s got me good. And I can say with a fair sense of certainty that for most other women who have been hooked to the show for close to 9 years now, he is probably the sole reason they began watching and continue to do so, despite every living braincell screaming for them to stop.
Unless of course, they have show-completion OCD too.
But that other fellow everyone is was salivating about? McSteamy? He doesn’t quite cut it, unfortunately, for me. McDreamy is McSteamy, in my eyes. He’s dreamy and he’s steamy, and I personally don’t care too much for the real one. Maybe its that attitude, in which case its a good character and some good acting, I guess, right? But even so, if I were to ignore his high-handed, completely asshole-like behaviour, I still don’t think I’d have those early morning dreams of having him watching me snore, like a certain other character in the show. Because he is like a CK model, a little too chiseled. Kind of hot, but not enough to ogle at all the time. And so pokey, it shows in his features. Also, so unattainable, its not worth it. McDreamy on the other hand, is so much like The Boy we’ve all fantasized about at least once in our lives. Hot, knows it, plays hard to get for a bit, but only until he does a swift roundabout and comes scudding after you like he worships the ground you walk on.
Of the women though, I have to say my favourites are Bailey and Yang. Bailey because shes Bailey, and every show needs one woman like that. No-nonsense, don’t-mess-with-her and downright honest. She cracks me up with her sarcasm and sort of reminds me of someone I know. Yang on the other hand, is a more nuanced character. You start out not liking her too much (or at least I did) shes like a porcelain robot. Cold, and trying even harder to stay that way. But over time she grows on you, not because she sheds her frigid demeanour, but because you realise despite everything there is a glimmer of a person in there, and even for the glimpses and snatches you steal of her, you begin to warm up to her cold self. I don’t care much for Meredith. She’s too twisted, dark and messed up for me. Also I’m a bit sick of how vulnerable she can be.
Which brings me to Izzy. And I know I’m going to go up against all the men there when I say this, but I really cannot stand her. I think they have used every little squeezed every last drop of blonde-ism out of her. Kind of like they thought, okay so we need a blonde, and when they found the perfect one, they used her for everything shes got. For the first two seasons she’s doing nothing but being this woman who is constantly making you wonder how on earth she became a doctor. No great challenges, no critical medical decisions, no gutsy medical calls. Just a whole lot of stupid girly moments. I mean they might as well have just made her a side-character. George’s best friend, or whatever. But then comes Denny. And she goes apeshit. Post which she spends the first half of season 3 being ballistic. Then she spends an entire episode just standing outside the hospital, pretending to enter. I kid you not, just standing. Most. Wasted. Character. Ever. Except for her boobs, I guess.
The scrubs, the sanitized almost-perfect hospital interiors and the overhead scenes of the city all remind me of my days of watching House. But that as different. Very different. It was a fantastic show, and that’s why I was hooked. I was deeply crushing (and might still be) Hugh Laurie and without him, the show wouldn’t go on. I don’t think I could say the same about a single character on Grey’s. Knock one off, and the show will go on, just the same. And apparently, they did that too!
Also, many an episode of House made me cry. Not just when a case when awry, but when some inalienable truths about emotion, human beings, friendship, love, sarcasm and the like were so beautifully woven into the general scheme of things. With Grey’s its all a bit forced. Like they need to talk about Meredith’s fucked up relationship with her father, so they gave her a half-sister who goes into labour in the same hospital. Oh and at the very same time, George’s father is dying of cancer. Coincidence, much? I thought so too. Oh, and also, they kill off far too many patients. With far too much ease. And even that doesn’t make me cry. I mean you’re doctors for chrissakes! Do something!
I know it might seem like I have a lot of issues with the show. But would you believe me when I say this was the longest week of time spent indoors? The longest 7 days when every meal was eaten at home. When we’d hit the sack by 10 am, and I’d lie in bed watching the Grey’s gang till about 2 am every night. You see, minor gripes aside, I have found the show to be quite the time black hole. Once I get in, there is no getting out. Work has been sidelined, meals have been stripped down to the bear minimum and my books lie forgotten. All to make ample time to catch enough trash TV.
Too engrossed, I tell you. Too effing engrossed. I blame it entirely on my show-completion OCD. So someone send me a forklift, I’m going to need help here. Soon.