One consequence of having had to keep a weather eye out for hurricane news is that our television set was on quite a bit recently. I'll save my comments on the generally repulsive nature of what we saw for another time.
There were actually a couple of shows that qualified as interesting enough (and un-raunchy enough) to keep my attention for a while. One of these was Medical Investigation, which we found on NBC from 10 to 11 p.m. Friday nights. I can be grateful that the hour is so late, as I'm less likely to be tempted to seek it out. For it is just the kind of story I love: a mystery, and a medical mystery at that. In fact, in at least two of the stories so far the plots were lifted directly from the wonderful—and true—medical detective stories of Berton Roueché.Alas, the stories were much better off in Roueché's hands. Medical Investigation suffers from bad acting, bad writing, and contrived, embarrassing attempts at social commentary. The subplots amongst the main characters, no doubt an effort to give the series more continuity, are distracting—and detracting. Nonetheless, the appeal of the medical mysteries is so strong that I actually enjoyed the two and a half shows I watched, in spite of the defects.
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