An Antidote To The Anti-Hero: It’s Draining To Commit To Watching Jerks

TV these days is pretty bleak: The womanizing, alcoholic ad man; the meth-making chemistry teacher; the self-labeled sociopathic consulting detective. The anti-hero has all but taken over primetime television. More than a decade ago James Gandolfini’s Tony Soprano changed the landscape of television protagonists, but it can become a bit draining to commit hours each week to watching jerks, whether you’re hoping to see flashes of compassion or waiting to see how low they can get. Can they be redeemed? Should they be? Is it okay to find such pleasure in how terrible they are?

It’s enough to make a person long for a simple procedural with a likable lead — the fuzzy, warm slippers of primetime. The surprisingly sweet “Royal Pains” on USA is the perfect way to recharge after watching too many self-centered protagonists get away with murder (all too often literally).

The show focuses on Hank Lawson (Mark Feuerstein), a New York City emergency room doctor who made the mistake of putting the life of an inner-city African-American patient over that of the hospital’s major benefactor. When the benefactor died, Hank is fired. He packs up and leaves New York City at the behest of his accountant brother, Evan (Paula Costanzo) who convinces him to move to the Hamptons. There they set up HankMed, a concierge medical practice. Soon Divya Katdare (Reshma Shetty) joins them as a physician’s assistant, and Hank becomes the private doctor for wealthy German businessman Boris Kuester von Jurgens-Ratenicz (Campbell Scott), who allows Hank and Evan to run HankMed from his guest house.

On its surface, “Royal Pains” is a basic medical procedure like “House” or “ER”: Someone comes down with a mysterious illness, and Hank goes through a series of incorrect diagnoses and treatments before a sudden clue points to the true ailment. There are several scenes with lines like, “We can’t wait for the ambulance. If we don’t *serious-sounding medical jargon* now, this patient may die.”

But because Hank often treats patients in their homes or at garden parties, there often isn’t much medical equipment around. Hank becomes a medical MacGyver at these posh events, intubating with glass piping found in a wine cellar or using fish hooks to keep a man’s lungs from collapsing on a boat. It’s fascinating watching Hank become a medical handyman.

Hank’s resourcefulness aside, he’s quite simply a good guy who the viewer can root for without conflict. Hank smiles, is polite, has a great bedside manner, and is supportive of his colleagues, who, of course, become like family to him. This isn’t to say Hank is without flaws. His relationship with his and Evan’s dad, conman Eddie Lawson (Henry Winkler) is a source of frequent conflict. Hank’s desire to be a good person to those in medical need often leads him to neglect loved ones, including romantic interests. And during a storyline that involves HankMed benefactor Boris and international intrigue, Hank is injured and soon encounters his own personal battle that strains his working and familial relationships. Because Hank is of such strong character, when those dark spots appear, they’re magnified and even more disappointing.

Despite Royal Pains’ predictable rhythm to its medical mysteries, it manages to avoid other basic formulas for the relationships between main characters. Evan is the playful younger brother who flirts with any woman near him, but the possibility of an intimate relationship between him and Divya is resolved quickly, as is the thought of Divya and Hank. The show avoids the cliché of Divya falling for two brothers and how the tension might affect the workplace and uses this fresh opportunity to bring in new characters that help elevate the show’s appeal. Even more refreshing is Hank’s relationship with Divya. As a physician’s assistant, Divya often deals with patients on her own. She sometimes deals with common problems many women face: they’re dismissive of her title, referring to her as an administrative assistant, or they only want to deal with her boss. Hank is the kind of boss many of us wish we had: He frequently assures patients of his confidence in Divya and her medical expertise, corrects their misinterpretation of her position, and encourages Divya in times of her own self-doubt. It’s refreshing to see a leading male character be so supportive of his female colleague without an ulterior motive. The relationship between Hank and Divya may be the best aspect of the show.

As strong as Royal Pains is, there are some weak spots. Much of Divya’s personal storylines first deal with an arranged marriage and very traditional Indian parents who don’t think it’s appropriate for a woman to work. And midway through the series, the show adds Dr. Jeremiah Sacani (Ben Shenkman), who joins HankMed as a socially challenged physician. His lack of social graces and robotic intonation may be the overly familiar stereotype of a character who falls on the autism spectrum or who is brilliant yet socially awkward. Although the main cast of characters remains predominantly white and heterosexual, the show often features interracial and gay and lesbian couples. And the writers do a solid job of showing diversity of wealth origins, class, and race. For a show that’s set in the Hamptons, it’s impressive that not everyone comes from old money or has the title “Internet Guru” on their business cards. HankMed may have started out as a way for rich clientele to have personalized health care, but the working class get medical treatment as well.

Royal Pains recently finished its sixth season, just as its home network launched a show that combines its basic premise with that of the aforementioned “House” — “Rush,” a show about a remarkable doctor with a serious drug and alcohol problem who caters to wealthy clientele with dark secrets. Cinemax also recently began airing the eagerly awaited The Knick, which stars Clive Owen as John Thackery, a doctor addicted to drugs and brothels in 1900 New York. Thackery is irascible and racist, but, of course, he’s also brilliant, and women, even those he doesn’t pay for attention, find him irresistible. This formula is old hat now, no matter how beautiful the cinematography, direction, or soundtrack of the show itself. “Royal Pains” has previous seasons currently available on Netflix streaming, and tired viewers would find it well worth their time to engage with this refreshing breeze that clears away the darkness of other brooding medical dramas.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying television shows with “unlikable” characters. In fact, it can be kind of fun. Everyone in the real world may not be worthy of friendship, and watching awful characters on TV gives an audience permission to call people out for their terrible behavior and to revel in their comeuppance. And yet, sometimes watching bad people do bad things can become overwhelming.

“Royal Pains,” with its bright Hamptons location and thoughtful community, is a surprisingly good antidote to a television lineup overrun with bad boys. It’s a show about genuinely good people recovering from situations beyond their control and features a cast of characters that provides a lightheartedness, even in stressful medical conditions.

Nichole Perkins is a freelance writer, based in her hometown of Nashville, Tennessee.