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Anatomy of Worth: TV’s Sanctity of Life Problem

Anatomy of Worth: TV’s Sanctity of Life Problem

Last updated on: April 27, 2015 at 2:59 pm by Erin Wathen

Anatomy of Worth: TV’s Sanctity of Life Problem 2015-04-27T14:59:10-07:00 Erin Wathen

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McDreamy is McDead. And I was too distracted by the bad writing to be upset.

I’m glad Der+Mer made up before, you know, his date with a mack truck. But seriously, I was way more upset when Cristina moved to Switzerland. Maybe Derek’s death felt inevitable, or maybe it was just so unbelievably hokey, or maybe it’s because this show just needs to be OVER already (they are nothing without Yang! Nothing!) but whatever the reason—I really don’t much care that they killed him off.

But I was supposed to care. He meets all the criteria.

It’s another conversation entirely that this show has killed off an abundance of main characters—and not just with boring things like heart attacks either, we’re talking big, flashy stuff that requires special effects. Busses! Fiery plane crashes! Shooter on a rampage! Electrocution in the water-filled basement! And these are just the deaths of cinematic proportion. In more ho-hum ways, we’ve also lost both of Meredith’s fringe-character-parents, and a stepmom she was just starting to like. And Adele. That’s a pretty big casualty list for a t.v. show. Even one about a hospital… Death starts to lose its dramatic edge when it becomes your go-to literary device. But we’ve talked about that before.

Meanwhile, there is an emotional investment factor attached to each character in a show or movie. That subtle equation tells us how upset we are supposed to be if/when they die. And for Derek Shepherd, we were supposed to be very, very upset.

Here’s how it went down, ICYMI: after saving a bunch of strangers from a grisly crash, Derek gets back into his car, pulls partially out into the road… and then stops to dig for his buzzing phone. (Because apparently brain surgeons are too dumb to know that sitting still on a road with poor visibility is a super bad idea). A large truck promptly smashes into him, and the next thing we know, he is being dropped off at a dingy hospital straight off the set of a Stephen King movie. “We are not equipped for this! We are not a trauma center!” the frazzled looking E.R. doc is shouting at the ambulance drivers. “This is not on me,” he finally says to their retreating figures.

Well, shit. This is not going to be good.

We are then treated to some voiceover, as not-dead-yet-Derek narrates the many missteps in his medical care. And that—I’ll give it to them– was a clever path. But then, the whole thing deteriorates into what I can only call an episode of “Good Doc/Bad Doc.” Good Doc (a woman), wants a head CT. Bad Doc (dude) shouts her down, repeatedly, with an air of sexist condescension that does not make sense to the story. (Meanwhile, voiceover Derek is calmly resigning himself to death. Whatever).

Bad Doc does not have much urgency about the whole thing. UNTIL, Good Doc figures out that Derek is a SURGEON (thanks, SidneyFromParenthood), and she rushes back into the room. “He’s a doctor!” she shouts, with the weight of a major revelation. And the staff—who I guess have been totally half-assing the whole thing until now?—kick it into high gear.

Suddenly, his life is worth more.

THEN, on-call neuro-doc takes his sweet-ass time coming from a dinner event, and yells at the other staff about all the ways this man’s life is, clearly, not his problem. He proceeds to find there is “nothing he can do.”

And then—wait for it—he finds out that Derek is Derek Shepherd: gifted fellow-surgeon, top of his field. As he tells Meredith that he is “so, so sorry,” he seems genuinely stricken, grieved that he was not able to save this great man. Even though one hour ago he could not be bothered to leave dinner early.

The implication was clear. I didn’t know who he was then.

Based on my 3+ decades of televiewing and movie-going, here is the algorithm, best as I can figure it, for how hard we are to take an on-screen death.

Is the person a child? If so, this is a very, very sad death. The worst kind there is. You will not want to go on living after this episode.
Is the person a parent? HAVING a child and dying is almost as sad as BEING a child and dying, so, good to know.
Has the person engaged in life-saving and/or world-improving activity? If so, their life is of greater narrative significance than, say, the person who spends their free time, like, watching t.v. (ahem, you + me).
Do a skin color check. I don’t think I need to spell this part out for you.
Has the person recently fallen in love? If so, then this is a pretty good indicator that you should be very upset about their demise.
Did their death bear any sort of sacrificial implication? OH, good then, you can have ALL the feelings. But ultimately, be happy, because this sort of Jesus thing just happened that you can’t quite understand but know is good news, all the same.

I could go on, but you watch T.V. too. You know that the entertainment industry has a sanctity of life problem. For ratings and box-office purposes, human worth has a merit system. The impact of a death—and therefore, the value of life itself—is weighed in terms of good works, relationships to others, and photogenic properties. Not necessarily in that order.

We know this is false gospel, right? We know that you don’t really have to be a brain surgeon to deserve good medical care. We know that single people are as important to the story as married people. That having a child and/or being white does not render you a more sympathetic character than your childless and/or not-white neighbor…

We know that plain-looking people are as valuable as the ones with impossible McDreamy hair… right? Please tell me that we know this.

If not… if you don’t know this, or you have forgotten, let me remind you today. YOU are worthwhile. No matter who else is or is not in your life. No matter what you do or don’t do for a living, or in your free time. No matter what tearful speeches would or would not be spoken at your cinematic wake, if it came up tomorrow.

We watch too much t.v. It’s mostly harmless vegging… but I worry that we start to define our own worthiness by how Hollywood would mourn us (or not), and then we start to have sanctity of life problems too.

We are whole, alive and embodied people, y’all. Remember that today, and every day.

The author of your life thinks your story line is a great one…and looks forward to future episodes.

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