What a fantastic episode/movie:

My review is up here, and contains no more spoilers than the promos present:

http://blogcritics.org/video/article/tv-review-house-md-season-premiere1/

New Chapter:

Chapter 6
A/N—I realize that detox is normally done in blackout from the outside world: no friends, no family (not usually anyway). I have read of two programs where there is an element of family involvement, and I ran with that to begin to bring in House’s extended family. It’s a bit of a device, but heck, it’s fiction… So apologies in advance to anyone who might scratch their head at the improbability of the scenario I’m creating in these next two or three chapters…
__________________________________
David Croft dialed Princeton-Plainsboro while glancing at Lisa Cuddy’s notes on House. He had asked House if there was someone he would want onsite. It was an unusual step, as most times, detox was done during a “communications blackout” with friends and family. But House wasn’t a conventional patient and he’d heard of a couple of hospitals on the west coast who had so involved loved ones—who had neither been part of the problem nor victims of the patient—in the more acute phases of treatment. Someone who could make decisions when the patient could not.

With House likely suffering co-occuring mental, physical and addiction disorders, the detox could go very wrong. It would be very unpredictable at best. It might help, reasoned Croft to have a friend at least nearby. House seemed to have no close family, and his nearest friends were in Princeton, three hours away. At first House adamantly refused. “What if you’re incapable of making a decision about something.”

( Read more... )

My Blogcritics commentary on "Unfaithful" up at Blogcritics. Hope you enjoy. 

http://blogcritics.org/archives/2009/02/17/222643.php

 http://blogcritics.org/archives/2009/02/04/213148.php

House and Ethics, part II
I've posted the second part of my two-part article:  "The Ethics of Dr. Gregory House..."

The question posed at the end of part I of this series was whether Dr. Gregory House, central character in House, MD, practices medicine within any sort of ethical framework. Often accused of being unethical, and certainly uncaring, House claims to eschew the Hippocratic Oath, medicine’s sacred ethical charge. Much of what we see of House “caring” about patients, or anyone else for that matter, is played out in the subtext, most often revealed in the brilliant non-verbal acting of series star Hugh Laurie — through his expressive eyes and body language.

The rest of the article can be found   here....
 I hope you enjoy.

A cocoon. White and enveloping; all encompassing. The silence was a blessing (if blessings actually exist) because everything had been too loud and too constant: a barrage that not even Jimmy Hendrix could drown. Glass shattering, the searing squeal of shredded metal and the screech of useless brakes; voices arguing, eyes accusing—that was the loudest, it seemed. And here it was quiet; it was almost as if he had been struck by lightning, but of the gentlest kind (as oxymoronic as that sounded).

The crush of memories that from it ensued wracked his consciousness along with his conscience as reality set in. Dial-a-Wilson, this time, brought death, and he was tossed into the maelstrom: participant and spectator. Trapped with nowhere to run, and Wilson by his side, he couldn’t lie; couldn’t evade; couldn’t hide. He simply had to “be.” Pure truth has its price.

And now House knew; the last piece of a cubist (and hence impossible) jigsaw puzzle put in place before shattering in a rain of glass and horror. “Don’t do it,” he whispered from his 20/20 hindsight’s vantage; but the past cannot be altered. What’s done is done. What’s gone is gone; what’s dead is dead.

“Why her?” he inquired of a God that did not exist for him. “Why her? Why not me?” he implored. Sure it sounded trite, but it was an honest question, and one he wanted answered. One he needed answered.

“I…I…I asked her to find you,” the words stammered in disbelief as the pain of perfect knowledge seared House’s damaged brain. The power of speech abandoned him as Wilson finished the rest of his thought, gasping with recognition and a quiet fury that would have stopped anyone else in his tracks. But House knew the rest had to come out, had to be told; he had to know. “The truth will set you free,” the thought randomly pinging off a new electrical impulse in House’s battered brain. “But not today; not this truth,” another ping responded, sending an frozen wave through his nervous system.

“He’s seizing.” An echo from somewhere in the room, distant concentric circles of sound. And then nothing. It was quiet; warm and cool; safe. And for the first time in nearly two years, there was no pain. It no longer hurt, he was no longer unaccountably sad. Or angry; and he wanted to stay. There were no Moriartys nipping relentlessly at his mind; no ephemeral sirens whispering in his ear, telling him things he did not want to hear. There was nothing; all thought had fled and he simply “was.” It felt safe now, to open his eyes; the shaking had stopped and he no longer felt that he would go into free fall if he opened them.

House was taken by surprise at the brightness of the room, which, at last recollection was bathed in only the dim light of the procedure room. But, he then realized, he was no longer in the procedure room; the apparatus had been removed from his head. A bus? Where was Wils….?

Amber. Of course. But she was dead, wasn’t she? “Am I dead, too?” he asked, not really caring which way the response went.

“Not yet,” sly seductive. She was beautiful; had to give Wilson that, he pondered before remembering. It wasn’t fair, he argued, that she should be dead. She had found a way off the path; found redemption through Saint Wilson. Had won his love. It wasn’t fair.

“I should be.” But life isn’t fair. Had she said that, or was it his own conscience? Did it matter, since they were now apparently one and the same? There were no ghosts; no afterlife; no white light other than the brain simply shutting down when it was over. For good. She was no damn angel, that’s for sure. “I can stay here with you:” A question; a prayer; a plea.

“Why?” He felt compelled to explain, to be honest, as brutal as that seemed. He was afraid and it felt safe here; his father a distant, fuzzy memory: he could no longer feel the burning pain of his childhood. Not here; not with her. If this is dead, then bring it on. His leg, too. Ah, the leg: when had it stopped throbbing? It felt good; it felt whole. All pain had fled and was now but a distant memory.

The ache in his heart had long since become dull; the yearning for Stacy scarred over and fading, but never quite gone—until now. He felt at peace and at home. And of course there was Wilson, whose eyes burned into him from a vantage too close as House revealed the truth about that night. “You killed her,” said Wilson’s eyes.

“It doesn’t hurt here….” The words emerged with difficulty. “I…I don’t want to be in pain…I…” Amber glanced over at her seat mate on the white bus, and her heart shattered into a million pieces as she watched him openly weep.” She didn’t know he had it in him; or maybe she did, but not that close to the surface. It hurt her to tell him that he couldn’t stay; it was not his time.

“You can’t always get what you want…” And he willingly walked away from the light and back into his own darkness: the fog and the pain. And it hurt everywhere and suddenly like an anvil had fallen on him. His head; his leg; his heart all tried to cry out: “go back…go back,” fading and folding into the chaos of his mind. His eyes fluttered open, and he was disappointed somewhere in the back reaches of his mind.

A gasp to his left, but it hurt too much to turn towards it. Cuddy. “Blink if you can hear me,” her voice warm as honey and kinder than he deserved. An urge to speak to Wilson overwhelmed him. “I…I’ve got…” It was a hoarse whisper. Was it even audible, he wondered?

“Ssssh, ssssh, don’t try to talk; rest now.” She was so close, he was enfolded by the lilac of her spring perfume. His eyes closed again and he felt Cuddy’s hand on his, curling around it as if to hold him here among the living. He’d never known her to be cruel, but her touch compelled him to stay and not to float back towards the cocoon of light that, anyway, seemed to have faded into the distant reaches of memory.

 

Reprinted from BlogCritics

Bringing Books into Generation G(adget): the Amazon Kindle

Maternity
1x03

I loved Maternity.  It revealed a lot about House, who he is and why, despite being a thorn in her side, Cuddy trusts his medical instincts better than anyone else's. 

House is an infectious disease specialist.  In Maternity, that background becomes obvious as he spots a epidemiologic cluster by observing two babies' illnesses.  House learns of the two sick babies in true House fashion. He is lazing in the OB/Gyn lounge, which has a high def television.  House has a small, old fashioned 13" portable in his office.  As House sits eating lemon jello, two docs come in, appearing to ignore and then become annoyed with House's presence, but one suspects that they knew he was there, would take the bait and jump on the case.  Their knowing smiles as House vanishes from the lounge signals that he's taken the bait.

House and Wilson observe babies in the NICU.  Wilson doesn't see the connection that House does.  Maybe House wants to see a connection because he's bored and an epidemic might be an interesting diversion, but it is his field.  House brings the two babies' cases to Cuddy, who believes that House has brought the cases to her because he wants to see a cluster.  She dismisses him, and House goes hunting for enough sick babies to support his hunch.

OK, I love the fact that the show has featured a lesbian couple, without fanfare, without drawing attention to it...just as a matter of course.  House doesn't make a snarky remark about it (in fact, given House's type of non-judgmentalism, it would have been out of character.  He is very much a  live-and-let-live sort of guy. Except that he doesn't easily suffer fools or hypocricy.  From patients or other doctors.  then he's plenty judgmental.  But he reserves his harshest judgments for himself.  Always (just not in public).

Judy: We were just going to call.

House: Did he get hot all of a sudden?

Judy: Yeah.

I loved that House got all concerned with that fake-sincere bedside manner. 

Cuddy finally gets the proof that it's a real cluster.  They have a hospital-borne infection.  Lots of liability for the hospital.  House's catching it probably, ultimately, saved the hospital millions of dollars in liabilty suits if all of those babies (and more) succumbed to the infection.

The fellows go and tell the parents of the affected babies.  Cameron shows that she has a hard time with this aspect of her job.  The job of any doctor not in pure research.  I actually liked the fact that they showed that not all doctors are great at giving bad news.  She is awkward, and Foreman has to jump in and cover for her.  This becomes a secondary plotline of not only this episode but of the first season.  We just don't know the "why" at this point.

Foreman: And I guess being the poor guy dying is toughest of all?

Cameron: [pause] No. It’s easier to die than to watch someone die. [She leaves Foreman standing at the front clinic desk.]

First clue that Cameron has had some personal experience along these lines.

Great clinic scene.  although I am all about the angst  ;), I love the clinic scenes for what they are: tension breakers, and a wonderful opportunity to watch Hugh Laurie's great and subtle comic skills at work--and that bone dry sense of humor and irony. 

House always has great disdain for the people who wander through the clinic.  He sees them as idiots and fools, that his talents are wasted on.  I don't know if he sees clinic duty as beneath him, but I do see it as an annoyance for him--it exposes him and his disability to casual onlookers--and at the same time, takes him away from his perceived "real" job -- his "mission" in a way of saving lives.  This particular clinic scene with the not-too-bright pregnant woman (dippy is a better descriptor for her, I guess) is hysterical and fits the title of the episode.

Jill: Can you do anything about it?

House: Only for about a month or so. After that it becomes illegal to remove, except in a couple of states. [He starts to ultrasound her abdomen.]

Jill: Illegal?

House: Don’t worry. Many women learn to embrace this parasite. They name it, dress it up in tiny clothes, arrange playdates with other parasites –

Jill: Playdates…

House: [shows her the ultrasound] It has your eyes. [It’s a baby!]

Jill: But… that’s impossible.

House: Well, I assume you weren’t getting your period. Maybe that should have give you an inkling.

Jill: But I’m on this birth control implant…

House: Yeah, I know. I saw the scar on your arm.

Jill: …and my doctor said I might not get any periods at all if it was working.

House: Mm hmm. Interestingly enough, you also don’t get any periods if it isn’t working, which is why you were supposed to get regular pregnancy tests. [Jill makes a pained face.] I’m going to send a nurse in here to schedule your prenatal care. You’re due in about five months, so start planning the shower.

The scene is too good not to put in here.

This leads us to a critical scene in House's office.  The antibiotics are affecting the babies' kidneys.  They can't keep them on both.  House tells them to take one baby of the Vancomycin and the other off the Aztreonam.  Foreman and Chase argue (esp. Foreman) that they can't do that.  They'd be condemning one of the babies to death.  It's a clinical trial, but the ethics are cold.  House (in front of the staff) appears confident and pretty cold-blooded about the whole thing.  It's rational and logical.  And they have no choice.

House continues this argement with Cuddy and the hospital attorney, who insists that House can't do it.  Not without the informed consent of the parents.  At first Cuddy agrees.  House doesn't argue that by doing it, he potentially saves the hospital millions in lawsuits if all six babies die of a hospital borne infection before the find the culprit.  It seems a heartless lose-lose situation for House, and, again,, he seems coldly logical and rational.  His affect suggests that he really doesn't care about the fact that he's condemning one baby to death.  But eventually Cuddy sees the terrible choice and tells House to "do what you think is best."  She isn't happy with the decision, but sees no way out.  Note that she doesn't say "do it."  She lays the choice --and the responsibility--completely on House.  It is evident here that Cuddy trusts House's instincts (wish she'd remember that more these days)--and knows that House is right, even though he puts it so clinically.  But she also lays the burden of the decision solely on his shoulders.  She can feel bad about her decision to trust House but the burden is all on him.

In the next scene, we see that House IS NOT unaffected by the decision he's making.  He sits at his desk (we don't know how long he's been sitting there, but I would think it's been awile).  He's having a hard time with this decision, despite his cold public demeanor.  This is what I love about House.  What makes him a classic hero.  He suffers his burden in silence and alone.  No one above him would help him with the decision; and he takes it on.  But here we see him suffer for it.  Alone.  It is not the light decision he would have other believe.  It is extremely hard.  But he flips the coin and the die is cast.

So the first baby dies.   It's a solemn moment and Cameron is intentionally assigned to break the news.  House wants her to deal with this.  She will need to if she wants to be a doctor in a real practice.  House is her teacher and needs to force her to deal with it.  Wilson runs interference when Cameron freezes up and House is ticked that he did. 

But now the other baby is dying too.  The team and wilson sit in House's outer office.  House rants my favorite rant--overprescribing antibiotics.  I was, at one time in a past career, a microbiologist.  One of the first things we learned in micro -- way back in the mid 70s was that doctors overprescribe antibiotics.  This causes resistant strains and superbugs, that can pass on resistance to other bugs.  I have never, ever let docs prescribe antibiotics to my kids for a regular cold.  Colds are viral.  Antibiotics do not work.  They only increase the world of superbugs.  I loved House's rant on it.

Abruptly, House sends everyone home for sleep.  He has an idea, one that (as we soon find out) will upset everyone else, and, again assumes the burden of doing it himself.  He needs to autopsy the baby to find out the real cause of death.  One of the things that House does extremely well and with tremendous delicacy are autopsy scenes.  They are almost always nearly reverent of the dead.  Watching House autopsy that baby is such an intimate exprience, you see the real House.  Unguarded, tragic, reverent of the task at hand.  Gone is the glibness and the coldness.  Even though he is dead, the baby gets respect from House, who takes the utmost care and speaks in sad, hushed tones for that very brief scene..

House discovers that its a virus.  And a great DDx scene ensues.  House in full professor mode--in charge of his precious white board and brainstorming.  Love it.  They figure out a way to figure it out, and when the results come in inconclusive, House realizes that the babies still have their moms' antibodies running their immune systems.  Duh.  So he alters the diagnostic path and figures it all out.  Babies saved.  House saves the hospital lots of money.

Final scene.  We see here how socially inept House really is.  He is clearly concerned about Cameron.  Yes, I know he thinks that something is preventing her from doing part of her job--something emotional that he needs to figure out.  But I don't think that's what this scene is about.  He really does want to connect with her here and find out why she had such a hard time.  His body language and tone of voice tell us this.  Even though his language tells us he's being a real jerk ultimately.  Is Cameron simply a puzzle to him to figure out?  Or is he trying to find a way to express his concern and just doing a real bad job of it?  Don't know the answer to that one, but my guess is the latter (with a bit of the former thrown in).

"nuff said.

Thanks to the "clinic_duty" LJ for putting up great transcripts.  makes this a whole lot easier.

Occam's Razor
Episode 2

"I'm a BORED-certified diagnostician with a double specialty in Nephrology and Infectious Diseases." One of my favorite lines in the entire run of the series. It sums up House's angst over clinic duty in one elegant sentence. It's like Wilson says in Socratic Method: It's like Picasso painting a fence. House is an artist. He's brilliant. And his time in the clinic is time wasted while the really interesting stuff that can't be figured out by anyone else goes unattended.

Occam's razor: the simplest explanation. I love this episode for so many reasons. It's not the most elaborate episode; nor the most exotic illness, but it has great humor and has a wonderful opportunity to watch House's out of the box thinking really pay off. There isn't a lot of pathos in this episode that I remember, but perhaps others can fill that in, if I've missed or forgotten it. In OR we learn that even after the patient is cured, House stil needs to know the "why." How did the meds get mixed up. Wilson chalks it up to House's obsessiveness. But I think that without this need of House to understand the "whys", he would not be half the diagnostician that he is. It's his intricate knowledge that makes him spectacular at what he does.

My first post! This community is for the intelligent discussion and analysis of the amazing television show House, MD and its equally amazing lead actor Hugh Laurie. Please feel free to add your own reviews of episodes. You may also post fanfic recommendations for non-slash; non-sqeeing fangirl fanfiction. My own fanfiction may be found at http://www.fanfiction.net/~barbarabarnett. Hope you enjoy and post to this comm.

---The managment:)

Starting the ball rolling with a rewiew of the Pilot

Episode 1x01--Pilot
House Episode #1 Redux--The Pilot

Having watched the Pilot again recently, I was amazed at how consistent the vision for the character of House has been since day 1. We know from the outset that House is uncomfortable in his own skin. He hides from patients. "People don't want a sick doctor." This line, House's view of himself as expressed to his best friend sets us up to forgive so much that this character has done for two seasons.

House says that he hates people; he has no time or patience for patients. The image that he projects is one of arrogance and disdain, but with that one little line, so beautifully delivered, we understand where he is coming from. We understand immediately that this man is not only disabled; not only in great physical pain, but he hurts inside as well. And maybe those hurts on the inside are even deeper and more painful than his overt injuries.

It is clear that Wilson is concerned that House is wasting his gifts by not seeing patients, so for the first few episodes, Wilson tricks him into seeing patients or manipulates him (perhaps a better description). He is being House's friend by trying to lure him out of his shell.

We learn quickly that Gregory House is quick in mind; suffers no fools and has a way of looking at the world that is decidedly outside the box.

To me, the cases are always less interesting than the character study of House. And my favorite scene of this episode (and is up there amongst my favorite scenes of the entire series) is his conversation with Rebecca Adler, the POTW. House reveals himself to her (as he often does with his desperately ill patients) as he can't and won't do with people he normally associates with--his subordinates; Cuddy, Wilson. House reveals a deep empathy that, if unchecked, I believe, might overwhelm him. I can't imagine that House has ever told anyone how he felt when he was on death's door; ever shared his internal pain. But with her--a stranger--he can be honest and empathetic.

House can't become involved with patients, Wilson says towards the end of season 2. But got a clue way back in episode number 1. When House connects with patients, his emotions about his own physical condition get in the way of rational, empirical medicine. That speech to Adler, starting off so haltingly, so difficult for him to articulate at first becomes passionate and we know the emotional toll its taken on House to do it. Ultimately, though, he leaves the choice to her. A choice we much later learn that was taken from him regarding his own illness. It's another aspect of House that I love--that when it really comes down to it, House is a true advocate for patients' rights--once they have all the information to make a truly informed decision.

Right from the start, they nailed it; Hugh Laurie nailed it and mesermerized us all with his stunning, heartbreaking and passionate (and humorous) portrayal of an amazingly difficult character. Bravo.

Episode 1x01--Pilot
House Episode #1 Redux--The Pilot

Having watched the Pilot again recently, I was amazed at how consistent the vision for the character of House has been since day 1. We know from the outset that House is uncomfortable in his own skin. He hides from patients. "People don't want a sick doctor." This line, House's view of himself as expressed to his best friend sets us up to forgive so much that this character has done for two seasons.

House says that he hates people; he has no time or patience for patients. The image that he projects is one of arrogance and disdain, but with that one little line, so beautifully delivered, we understand where he is coming from. We understand immediately that this man is not only disabled; not only in great physical pain, but he hurts inside as well. And maybe those hurts on the inside are even deeper and more painful than his overt injuries.

It is clear that Wilson is concerned that House is wasting his gifts by not seeing patients, so for the first few episodes, Wilson tricks him into seeing patients or manipulates him (perhaps a better description). He is being House's friend by trying to lure him out of his shell.

We learn quickly that Gregory House is quick in mind; suffers no fools and has a way of looking at the world that is decidedly outside the box.

To me, the cases are always less interesting than the character study of House. And my favorite scene of this episode (and is up there amongst my favorite scenes of the entire series) is his conversation with Rebecca Adler, the POTW. House reveals himself to her (as he often does with his desperately ill patients) as he can't and won't do with people he normally associates with--his subordinates; Cuddy, Wilson. House reveals a deep empathy that, if unchecked, I believe, might overwhelm him. I can't imagine that House has ever told anyone how he felt when he was on death's door; ever shared his internal pain. But with her--a stranger--he can be honest and empathetic.

House can't become involved with patients, Wilson says towards the end of season 2. But got a clue way back in episode number 1. When House connects with patients, his emotions about his own physical condition get in the way of rational, empirical medicine. That speech to Adler, starting off so haltingly, so difficult for him to articulate at first becomes passionate and we know the emotional toll its taken on House to do it. Ultimately, though, he leaves the choice to her. A choice we much later learn that was taken from him regarding his own illness. It's another aspect of House that I love--that when it really comes down to it, House is a true advocate for patients' rights--once they have all the information to make a truly informed decision.

Right from the start, they nailed it; Hugh Laurie nailed it and mesermerized us all with his stunning, heartbreaking and passionate (and humorous) portrayal of an amazingly difficult character. Bravo.

House Episode #1 Redux--The Pilot

Having watched the Pilot again recently, I was amazed at how consistent the vision for the character of House has been since day 1. We know from the outset that House is uncomfortable in his own skin. He hides from patients. "People don't want a sick doctor." This line, House's view of himself as expressed to his best friend sets us up to forgive so much that this character has done for two seasons.

House says that he hates people; he has no time or patience for patients. The image that he projects is one of arrogance and disdain, but with that one little line, so beautifully delivered, we understand where he is coming from. We understand immediately that this man is not only disabled; not only in great physical pain, but he hurts inside as well. And maybe those hurts on the inside are even deeper and more painful than his overt injuries.

It is clear that Wilson is concerned that House is wasting his gifts by not seeing patients, so for the first few episodes, Wilson tricks him into seeing patients or manipulates him (perhaps a better description). He is being House's friend by trying to lure him out of his shell.

We learn quickly that Gregory House is quick in mind; suffers no fools and has a way of looking at the world that is decidedly outside the box.

To me, the cases are always less interesting than the character study of House. And my favorite scene of this episode (and is up there amongst my favorite scenes of the entire series) is his conversation with Rebecca Adler, the POTW. House reveals himself to her (as he often does with his desperately ill patients) as he can't and won't do with people he normally associates with--his subordinates; Cuddy, Wilson. House reveals a deep empathy that, if unchecked, I believe, might overwhelm him. I can't imagine that House has ever told anyone how he felt when he was on death's door; ever shared his internal pain. But with her--a stranger--he can be honest and empathetic.

House can't become involved with patients, Wilson says towards the end of season 2. But got a clue way back in episode number 1. When House connects with patients, his emotions about his own physical condition get in the way of rational, empirical medicine. That speech to Adler, starting off so haltingly, so difficult for him to articulate at first becomes passionate and we know the emotional toll its taken on House to do it. Ultimately, though, he leaves the choice to her. A choice we much later learn that was taken from him regarding his own illness. It's another aspect of House that I love--that when it really comes down to it, House is a true advocate for patients' rights--once they have all the information to make a truly informed decision.

Right from the start, they nailed it; Hugh Laurie nailed it and mesermerized us all with his stunning, heartbreaking and passionate (and humorous) portrayal of an amazingly difficult character. Bravo.

After not having posted for more than a year and a half (and not knowing if anyone is actually reading it), I've decided to come back. The new nature of this LJ is to post episode reviews for each episode, with the hope that eventually, I will have reviewed each episode in the series. If anyone wishes to contribute a review, please feel free!

The other purpose of this LJ is to recommend quality fanfics in the House fandom. Well written, in character, can be humorous (but if they are they need an edge to balance the humor). Angsty is good, great, in fact, but better if its in character. I'm not a specific shipper, but I'm not a slasher (ooo, that sounds violent). I'll use this LJ also to post some of my own fanfiction as well, although its available on http://www.fanfiction.net/~barbarabarnett

So, here goes...

1. 1st revelatory moment is in the chapel. House doesn't like the infirmarian nun. She's actually living House's persona. She doesn't trust her patients to tell the truth. Interesting. The sick sister is a slacker and lies. House doesn't buy it. Why? Because the sick sister is sick. She has gone from the realm of patients to be dismissed to patients to be concerned about.

2. Infirmary sister, however, does tell House what he doesn't want to hear..that is, about himself. Who he really is. She is telling the truth here. But he has heard this before, over and over again. he doesn't need the analysis, but it was nice for us to get it finally.

3. aha. we finally get a scene of House doubting himself. Wilson nails him. a chink in the armour.

4. Gift scene: Cameron tells House that he did good. House doesn't believe that, himself, becuase unless the figure out the "why?" they haven't helped the sister. He rebuffs her coldly. Then she gives him the gift. He's not sure how to respond to that. No quick retort, just an awkward silence, eyes cast down, not looking her in the eye. Can she get to him? He's afraid of her kindness, I think. When Chase comes in, House moves the gift away from Chases's sight (nice acting choice, Hugh). It's subtle.

5. House comes the conclusion that the time has come for him to talk to the patient. Again, nice acting choice by Hugh. That sigh let us know House's fear of talking to a patient (fear of letting his own guard down; fear of...who knows..but it's fear). Also interesting that he leaves the cane OUTSTIDE the room. A deliberate choice. Why

Missed Occam's Razor. But here are my notes for Maternity

1. House is a good actor. He can fake "dr. compassion." First scene with Asian mom. Good fake concern. Drs. lie too!
2. Baby dies. House heartlessly tells Cameron to tell the mom(s). Does he do this to be heartless, knowing that Cameron will have an extremely hard time with this? Because he knows that she will. His expression/body language tells us that this is difficult for House to ask Cameron to do, but he also knows that it is something that all doctors need to do. She has to confront it, and House is her mentor.
3. Autopsy scene--I know it had to tell us something. Just his voice, grave and serious. The gentleness of the hands. Fact that he didn't tell anyone he was going to do it. He knew it would be hard for all of them, esp. Cameron. So he sent them all home to bear it himself.
4. Concern for Cameron. This is where the armour fails a)to protect and b)is an impediment to him. The persona of House causes Foreman to be surprised that House would even be concerned for Cameron and, hence, Foreman won't open up to House to tell him, thinking that House must have an ulterior motive. House waits in his office for everyone else to leave so he can talk to Cameron. He asks her to open up (curious, since he is surrounded by thick walls himself) and when she won't he probes--too far. Is he just curious or does he care? Are his motives empathic/compassionate or professional/curiosity?

barbara

Notes and observations on Episode 2
1. House show's interest in case immediately upon hearing about the night terrors. He is concerned about sexual abuse and examines the patient. The patient is "real" but not in the way Cameron thought.

2. First potential diagnosis is MS. House tells the staff to tell the parents. He seems very heartless here. But I think he just knows that it's not MS. Parents still need to be told of the possibility.

3. Kid disappears. House doesn't answer the phone, gets the message, but responds by coming back to the hospital. Returns home. He's "bad a search parties" (obviously, since it's hard for him to walk) and "bad at looking nervous and doing nothing". He seems callous, but gives Foreman some advice as to where to find the kid.

4. Final scene on LaCrosse field. More obvious insight into House and a major theme: his loneliness. The exterior maintenance costs him a little bit each time and eats away at him.

There were a couple of things that stood out regarding the character of House in the Pilot. Clues to who he really is, not who he wants us (and his colleagues) to believe that he is.

He hates to see patients. Why? Because they lie, he tells us. He sends his staff to see the patient, but they've failed to get to the heart of the matter, until he dismisses them with a, well, dismissive "go away!" at which point he goes in alone (no spectators) to see the patient. He even dismisses the nurse. House doesn't want anyone to see how he really interacts with a patient. It would show too many chinks in the heavy chain mail armour he has carefully constructed around himself.

So what is his manner at the bedside? Honest, blunt, kind. Kind? Up to this point, all we've seen of House is how he interacts with the clinic patients, who he does not perceive as "real" patients. But now this woman wants no more tests. She just wants to "die with dignity". He lets his guard down with the patient; lets her in. He has real empathy for her. And it hurts him to understand what she is going through. Because he, too, had been at a point where he "hoped (he) was dying." He leaves her room, having gained nothing. She still wants no more tests. But he halts where we would expect him to push, finagle and force. He understands her and respects her. He says to his colleagues that he's done. Puzzle solved. Even though she wants to die, he doesn't seem to care, he doesn't want to be seen as having been touched, moved or empathic. It's not who he is. But Hugh Laurie's eyes tell a different story. He does care, he does hurt for her, and he hates that it does because it makes it that much harder, costs him much more to rebuild the armour.

I think that this is what is so compelling about the show. It is what Hugh tells us with his eyes and body language that his words do not. That is what makes House, despite his demeanour so compelling and magnetic.

Anyway, just a bit here to get myself started. I'm sure I missed a lot, add if you'd like. I'm going to try screen caps, perhaps to illustrate once I figure out how to do that.

Enough for now

Barbara

I know there are many livejournals about House already, but I wanted a place to analyze the show in my own way. I just began watching a few weeks ago, and thanks to the download fairy, I've gotten all of the episodes and have viewed them each once (but not in order). I am fascinated by the character of House, and the brilliant way he is played by Hugh Laurie.

House has a "public persona"--a reputation--the good and the bad. He's a brilliant diagnostician, intuitive, deductive, eerily smart. That's the reputation and it seems to ring true. He's also got a reputation as a risk taker and a bit reckless, also rings true for the episodes. But I want to explore the person behind the persona. The guy with the the terrible bedside manner -- except when no-one's watching (except the viewers, of course); the guy who doesn't care about the patient, only the puzzle (again, House is self-deluded about this too). The doc who doesn't have self-doubt, who's arrogant and hates people. Again, all bollocks. So, the idea for this journal to explore these ideas by episode as I watch them again from the pilot on. We gain so much insight into House and who he is and why he's caught our attention by the way Hugh portrays him. Just a look, a glance, his eyes and body language tell the story that his exterior manner can't. This is what makes House likeable, despite his flaws, and why he has become such a worthy anti-hero.

Like any hero, House is on a journey, and it will be interesting as the show moves on into a second season where the journey takes him. How it changes him. So, read on if you wish, comment, etc.

Barbara