There’s a new resident in town: the pushy, ambitious, and generally appalling Dr Morgan Reznick. And she’s pitched straight into a contest between Melendez and Lim: Reznick and Browne are on Melendez’s team, and Murphy and Kalu are with Lim. Each partnership has a patient of roughly equivalent trickiness to treat and cure.
Probably the more interesting case is the one allocated to Murphy and Kalu: they have Quinn, a teenage girl suffering from abdominal pain. Murphy quickly discovers that she has a penis, and undergoes an episode-long course in the use of appropriate pronouns for trans people. Quinn has testicular cancer, a situation which becomes increasingly complicated: Might it be better to take this opportunity to remove both testicles, not just the cancerous one? And will she require to stop taking puberty-blocking drugs? Her parents are supportive of her choices; her grandmother less so. As is generally the case with The Good Doctor it seemed to me, privilege duly acknowledged, that within the confines of an hour-long network drama it handled complex issues with sensitivity and delicacy. Quinn is played by Sophie Giannamore, a young trans actress (a word I try to use sparingly, but it seems relevant here).
Reznick and Browne’s case is a little more standard: a single father who develops resistance to antibiotics, but is saved by a faecal transplant (a concept I can add to my occasional but long-running Unpopcult series, Things I Totally Read About In The New Yorker). This is most notable for its bickering between Browne and the ruthless Reznick. Thing is, Melendez knows what Reznick’s up to, but encourages Browne, rather than sulking, to raise her game in response.
It’s another solid episode from this well-crafted show. And it’s probably my last review of it for now: with Homeland and Scandal back, Nashville coming soon, and an imminent Scandi-noir thing that I’m planning to take a look at, my dance card is getting uncomfortably crowded.