So, it seems that after eight seasons, television’s favourite misanthrope is hanging up his sparsely used stethoscope. Between stints in rehab, prison, and a mental institution, we have seen Dr Gregory House save more lives, pop more pills, and break more rules than most of us have eaten hot meals. Those of you, like myself, that have remained loyal to HOUSE for the full eight seasons know that it hasn’t always been to the standard of the Chase, Foreman and Cameron glory days, and after season five’s exceptional ending (‘Both Sides Now’), and season six’s terrific ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST-esque opener (Broken), the quality of the show took a serious downturn. During season six and seven I contemplated giving up on more than one occasion, but persevered in the hope that one day the show might get back to its roots; it also helped that regardless of the ridiculous story arcs and the entrance and exit of too many forgettable characters, Greg House has remained as interesting and unpredictable as he was during the pilot, which aired eight years ago this November.
When HOUSE was at its best it was an intense drama with some of the wittiest writing on television. On a weekly basis, David Shore would provide us with a new medical puzzle, used as a backdrop juxtaposed against House’s endlessly complex philosophy; he holds rationality and cynicism above all else, and though his beliefs were always challenged, he was usually proved right in the end. When HOUSE was at its worst it was a weekly chore, providing its audience with a laboriously predictable medical mystery, serving no higher purpose than to add emotional depth to the show, and remind viewers that, although House behaves like a selfish child set on tormenting everybody in his life, he is still a life saver and the world is a better place for having him. The main problem with the show is that without the character of House, who is written and performed so fantastically that, while he still remains entertainingly mysterious, the audience can still feel as if they know him personally; ultimately the show is just a conventional and formulaic drama. Most of the other characters are dull and difficult to empathise with; one exception might be Dr. James Wilson, House’s only friend, but it’s Wilson’s relationship with House that is interesting, not Wilson himself. Without House the show would be the same each week, in a similar vein to CSI… a patient enters the hospital, the team disagree over what could be wrong, they eventually agree on a diagnosis and treat for it, the diagnosis is wrong and the patient gets worse, the team disagree some more, eventually a light bulb flashes above someone’s head (usually House’s) and they save another life… copy and paste a hundred and seventy six times, and you have eight seasons of HOUSE. Obviously shows such as CSI are highly successful and this repetitive formula has been proven to work, but it is ultimately shallow, tiresome, and it provides little more than a puzzle that is forgotten once the credits begin to roll. HOUSE was much more than this because it works on two levels, which is probably the reason for its huge success.
On one level HOUSE is for an audience simply in need of an hour’s worth of escapism, and a mystery they don’t have to work too hard to follow. But it’s also for an audience looking for a little bit more, such as brilliantly creative philosophical themes. For example, this is exemplified in a season five’s ‘Unfaithful’, in which House treats a Catholic priest who has lost his faith and is equal to House in wit and intelligence. Consequently, House spends time talking with this patient, which any loyal fan will know is a very rare occurrence. After House expresses his nihilistic view of the world the priest says to him, ‘I don’t think you’re looking for someone to prove you right. I think you’re looking for someone to prove you wrong, to give you hope. You want to believe, don’t you?’ The writing constantly analyses House’s behaviour and beliefs; this statement questions his whole philosophy, asking something the audience may have been suspecting from the very beginning, that House may in fact be envious of people with faith, even if he is too stubborn to admit it. The problem with the later seasons, particularly six and seven, is that the show seemed to lose the secondary level it had been balancing with simple formulaic drama, and instead replaced it increasingly with comedy. As stated earlier, one of the most loveable things about the character is his wit and sense of humour, but he can also be quite cruel, arrogant, and selfish, which is fine when these traits are explored from a philosophical viewpoint. When they’re simply used as comic device, Dr Gregory House becomes much less likeable.
Those of you reading this who enjoyed the first few seasons of HOUSE but gave up as it continued and declined in quality – like I almost did – may be asking whether it’s worth catching up, if only to see how it ends. The answer is yes, it would. The finale, which was aired last Sunday on US TV and the Sunday just past on UK TV, wasn’t particularly exceptional… don’t worry I won’t spoil anything. It was a sufficient ending and it was probably one of the most analytical episodes (in regards House himself) since season one’s finest episode ‘Three Stories’. But it felt rushed and unplanned, and didn’t feel like the correct ending for such a legendary character. The last five episodes leading to the finale however, were some of the best episodes of HOUSE since the first three seasons, and definitely brought the show back to its roots, something I had been waiting to happen since the end of season five. In ‘We Need the Eggs’, House treats a middle-aged man who is avoiding a relationship with a beautiful woman so that he can continue his relationship with a life-sized doll. The rest of the team cynically claim that this is diagnostically relevant, and a part of whatever condition this man may be suffering from. House on the other hand disagrees; he claims that what the man feels for this doll is perfectly natural, and that everyone behaves this way, it’s just that they usually do it with another human being. What House is saying is that human relationships aren’t based on any sort of objective connection with another person, but simply that relationships are created as a distraction from the ultimate truth of which he never tires of reminding people: human beings are simply ‘bags of chemicals’ waiting to die. Under this rationale, relationships – boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives – mean nothing more than a sports car for example, in that people simply seek them because they think they will make them happy. At the same time the case is unfolding, House’s regular prostitute is getting out of the game and he is holding try outs for her replacement. Throughout the episode House’s view of relationships and his shallow attempt at some form of human connection is juxtaposed with the patient’s delusions about his own relationship, bringing into question whether people seek human relationships because they need to feel connected to another person, or simply because ‘they need the eggs’ as a distraction.
The majority of season eight of House is within the same ball park as seasons six and seven; it is entertaining, comical television and is watchable simply because of the fantastic writing and portrayal of Dr. House, but it isn’t to the standard of the first three seasons. The last quarter of this season however, in particular ‘We Need the Eggs’, ‘Body and Soul’, ‘The C Word’, and ‘Post Mortem’ brings HOUSE back to its glory days, and once again works brilliantly on both an escapist level and a philosophical one. A sure fire reason to play catch-up.
