The words “unscripted” and “reality” get thrown around a lot in television these days. On the low end, unscripted/reality refers to the very worst, most mindless freak shows, stunt contests, money-guessing games, stupid human tricks and humiliation hours that are cheaply produced yet draw adequate ratings. On the upside, unscripted/reality refers to nonfiction documentary-style TV.
Lately, we’re seeing a boom in the latter — ice truckers to meerkats to dog whisperers — almost enough to make you forget the goofy gladiator, circus and bachelorette “reality” shows on the other side of unscripted.
On Thursday, ABC News delves into a nonfiction arena with an engrossing and suspenseful hour that restores “unscripted’s” good name.
The six-part series, “Hopkins,” chronicles life inside Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. This compelling work, a doc that’s ably threaded with drama, is a return to the scene for the producers, whose “Hopkins 2 4/7” eight years ago was equally artful. This time, digging deeper into the personal lives of the doctors, it feels a half-step closer to “Grey’s Anatomy,” which serves as its lead-in.
Take that as compliment or criticism: The doctors’ personal lives show up onscreen more prominently, boosting the impact without diluting the filmmaker’s hospital rounds. “Hopkins” blends classic documentary style with narrative tricks of reality TV.
“Hopkins,” at 9 p.m. Thursday on KMGH-Channel 7, humanizes surgeons in a way fictional drama can’t. To hear a young resident admit he doesn’t know what he’s doing, unscripted, is infinitely more powerful when you know he’s not an actor.
A Mexican brain surgeon who came to this country as an illegal migrant farm worker; a cardiac specialist estranged from his wife and three kids; a transplant team foiled by aviation regulations when trying to rush an organ back to the hospital from out of state; an emergency-room doctor who describes the “war zone” of her daily work . . . their stories are potent and succinctly told. Executive producer Terry Wrong, who oversaw the 2000 Hopkins project, said ABC News spent four months at the teaching hospital last spring, with unusual access after gaining the staff’s trust with the first film. The crew had at least six cameras shooting in high-definition around the clock, he said.
“Hopkins” offers hope — with just enough miraculous recoveries and successful surgeries to offset the inevitable heartbreak of occasional losses. Mostly, the film lends laypeople an appreciation for the grueling hours, hard work, fallibility and, not least, rampant egos, of the medical professionals.
Could this be an ongoing series? Other than the difficulty of filming, why not? The public appetite for unscripted programming seems limitless, and this is definitely the high road.
Online exclusives support the broadcasts, including updates on patients. Subjects too titillating to go on the air get no-nonsense treatment on the ABC website (the pretty blond urologist demonstrates a penile implant and how it works), and users are invited to discuss controversial medical issues.
(On the website, surgeon Tom Reifsnyder critiques “Grey’s Anatomy” candidly. Referring to a scene in which actor Seth Green’s neck blew open, spraying blood on the cast, until McSteamy saves him, he says, “You don’t have plastic surgeons taking out carotid body tumors, one, and, two, I’ve never seen one blow out like that.” The feature serves two purposes: ABC gets to promote “Grey’s” through clips, and viewers can measure the poetic license of the drama against reality.)
In its attention to personal lives, “Hopkins” walks the line between old-style journalism and the conventions of reality TV. That’s not easy, but here all the vitals look good.
Joanne Ostrow’s column appears Tuesday, Friday and Sunday: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
