When I learned the greatest show ever, Doc Martin, was getting an American version, I was angry and resentful.
What in the world could possibly be added to Doc Martin by making it American?
How do you capture the seaside small-town charm of Portwenn anywhere in America, even Maine?
Does a town doctor even make sense in America, where we don’t have universal healthcare?
Will any of the adorableness translate?
I’ve known that Best Medicine was coming to Fox for months, but now I finally have answers.
So far, no. There is no value added to an American Doc Martin.
I am sure Josh Charles (who plays Martin Best) is perfectly fine as an actor and human being, but it feels like having some sour-faced rando doing a Doc Martin impression, without the extreme autistic, misanthropic intensity that made me love Martin so terribly.
The whole show is sort of like a bad impression of its forebear. Every element is recognizable (doofy cop, giggling Greek chorus of teenagers, dadbod plumber, wise aunt), but not as well done by comparison.
Out of an ominous sense of whimsy, I’m going to review the handful of episodes that air before it’s cancelled in the style of my Doc Martin recaps. Sound pessimistic? Maybe–and petty to boot. But this comes from the fact I had no clue the show had aired, even though I should be part of the target audience, and I have not found any social media discourse about it. These episodes landed without a splash. I give it a half-season.
Anyway.
You already know the drill: Big-city doctor develops a nasty reaction to blood and moves to a small town to continue practicing medicine. The town is annoying, but cute, and he ends up sticking around, falling in love, and having dogs.
The medical mystery: Again, an older gentleman has gynecomastia. And the whole town is sick, but it’s not the water.
As we already know, an older woman with a high sex drive gave her husband gynecomastia by using estrogen cream inappropriately. We also learn she’s having an affair with a much younger man the same way. These are the barest bones of the plot–it is not given any of the depth or color they did in “Going Bodmin,” which begs the question, again, why?
When the town gets sick this time, it’s because Martin’s childhood bully is doing a construction thing and there are dead mice and somehow this has gotten everyone sick. Folks insist it’s a common allergy–or the water–but nope, it’s construction mice corpses.
Neither of these issues occupy much time in the episodes, but they are the central medical mysteries. Best Medicine rightly understands that the medicine isn’t actually all that important. It’s the colorful cast of characters we care about…theoretically.
The central conceit simply becomes ridiculous when we start meeting people, though. Apparently they’re all tight on money and need to prioritize work. So how in the world are they all affording to go see the doctor? Good God, this is America. You can’t tell me all these random folks have insurance, or that those who do can afford copays and whatnot. We don’t just go to the doctor because it’s fun to hang out.
Louisa & Martin: I must grudgingly confess that Abigail Spencer was an appropriate choice to play Louisa, although I was disappointed to have the character directly transposed onto the show at all.
Louisa and Martin don’t launch right into conflict when meeting. She gets upset at him while they’re standing in line for basically no reason at all. It also doesn’t make sense, then, that Louisa votes against letting him be the town doctor, but she does, and he diagnoses her with glaucoma anyway, which she is…grateful for?
Louisa here is generally having a bad time because she decided not to marry the doofy cop. The whole town knows about it, and she likes talking to Martin about it because he doesn’t know her yet. This quickly turns into going to a town-wide monthly bean dinner together. (Bean dinner? You heard me.)
When the bean dinner goes awry–not because Martin can’t resist being an asshole, but because a childhood bully is an asshole to him–Louisa goes over to have dinner with him privately, which is very cute and cozy and friction-free.
These two simply do not have the same dynamic I am familiar with. One might argue it’s nice that they’re not fighting constantly, but I guess we’ll have to see what keeps them mostly apart for ten seasons.
It really highlights how much they soften the doctor himself. I don’t think the American show is willing to commit to the kind of outsized character Martin Clunes portrayed, but maybe they don’t think anyone but Martin Clunes will be lovable acting like that.
(I miss Martin Clunes.)
The Larges: They play a smaller role here, but they do exist. The plumber’s son is already hitting on the assistant. The dad isn’t following medical advice. I really don’t have anything to say about them because they’re not interesting.
The Assistant: Well, Elaine is a bit different, which is nice. She’s not necessarily incompetent so much as busy doing her own thing. Because Doc Martin originally started in 2004, it now seems to demand that a young assistant will instead be a cell phone-obsessed influencer, whose gimmick is live streaming with a teddy bear on her chest.
She does get fired by Martin immediately, but she comes back just as fast because she learns his ~secret~ fear of blood and offers to do some of the work for him. Originally, it took a while for one of Martin’s assistants to get training in phlebotomy and become useful this way. I don’t think she has any certifications, though. She’s just…doing medical stuff.
I guess it makes sense to hurry things along like this when the show is gonna last a half-season.
The Auntie: Here, I have mixed feelings. Aunt Sara is a lobster fisherman. I suppose that is supposed to make things feel appropriately Maine-like. She’s played by Annie Potts, who looks fabulous and doesn’t seem to be doing any impression. She’s much more her own thing. I like the show best when it’s not trying to mimic its better progenitor.
~
Louisa’s hair rating: 0/10. No ponytail, no bangs. Are we even trying? (No, it’s a very nice weave, Abigail Spencer. Really. I don’t blame you.)
Infuriating level: 10/10, but not because the town is driving Martin crazy. The similarities between this show and the original are near but not near enough, which gives it this wretched uncanny valley feeling. Infuriating!
I’m open to the idea that Best Medicine will go somewhere…better. I can deal with the weird clone version of these elements, I guess. If it can find its footing as an original work, that will help it shine. Not that anyone will watch it anyway! They’ll air six episodes, I tell you. Twelve on the high end.
