6.05 - Invasione

Original Airdate: 10-15-09
I’m sure most of you have been fired at some point in your life. I have. In fact, I’ve been fired at several points. Mostly from TV shows. Mostly for a job poorly done. I’ve been fired over the phone, in person, just before major holidays, a few months after I bought my first house – I’ve been fired a bunch. The people who fired me all had the usual litany of predictable reasons for letting me go. Budget considerations, you don’t write the voice of the show, we’re going a different direction. Every tortured explanation designed to make you feel better about yourself. And every one pretty much a lie. Because when they fire you the truth is they just don’t want you. After it’s done, after the axe has fallen, there’s a predictable process to the whole thing that’s pretty much time-honored. At least in Hollywood. First, you make sure the surviving writers don’t see you (it would be like Death coming to call). Second, you immediately go home to your wife or girlfriend or dog and get their sympathy. Third, you say the show was never for you anyway. And fourth, you return on the weekend to gather your things. It works that way for everyone. Executives, writers, actors, directors, assistants – if you work in Hollywood you will get fired and go through that humiliating scenario as sure as the sun comes up in the morning.

My favorite firing (at least of me) took place many years ago on a set made to look like Central Park. It was the one they used on “Seinfeld”. I wasn’t on “Seinfeld” at the time. I was on a different show but I had a view of the park. A very good view. A good enough view where I could witness several of the writers of the show I was on being escorted to a little wooden bench in the fake park and told their services were no longer needed.

I watched this grim scenario unfold over a couple of days from my office in the bungalow on the show where I thought I was still employed (the show shall go nameless, as shall the name of the person who fired me — good news though, that person was fired from a show recently and it made my heart sing with joy). A week passed and I believed I’d escaped being fired and so thought nothing of it when I sat on that same wooden bench to have a sandwich one day. Halfway through my sandwich I looked up to find my boss standing over me and telling me that I didn’t seem very happy on the show. I took a bite of sandwich and then replied that, no, indeed, I was happy on the show. And he said no, I don’t think you are happy. And THAT’S when I realized – in that very moment — that I WAS SITTING ON THE FIRING BENCH and that maybe he wasn’t out there to have lunch with me. And I was fired. All of which brings me to the toughest firing we’ve probably ever seen at Seattle Grace. That of Izzie Stevens…

Yup, Izzie is gone. Fired by the Chief who, these days, is looking for the slightest excuse to fire ANYONE. Maybe she went back home. Or to visit friends. Or just took off for points unknown. But yes, people, Izzie Stevens, third year resident and surgical rising star, no longer works at Seattle Grace/Mercy West. The hospital, new name and all, is in her rear view mirror. George’s death, her stage four cancer, coming back to work too soon – it all proved too much – and now she’s headed off to God knows where. And it was heartbreaking to see her get fired, to see her plead for her job but firings are pretty much always horrible. And I wanted the scene to convey that sudden sense of loss, of hopelessness, and with the help of Katie Heigl’s fantastic acting, I think it did. But more on Izzie and the broken-hearted Alex later.

The theme of the episode was “Invasion”. It seemed appropriate. New doctors were coming over from Mercy West. Callie’s Dad was paying an unwelcome visit to the hospital with the family priest in tow. Billy the Burglar got beat up after he broke in to or “invaded” a golfer’s house. And Arizona based her whole speech on the Japanese bombing Pearl Harbor – which was also an invasion of sorts. All sorts of folks were coming from the outside and invading our people’s space. The first time we see Jackson Avery, he’s jogging towards the hospital, almost running into Cristina. And then the next thing you know he’s leaning across Alex in the elevator to choose his floor. Annoying! Invasive! Just plain…rude! And from her sick bed, where she’s recovering from her liver donation to Thatcher the previous week, an undaunted Meredith has taken charge. “This is our ship!” The question is, are our people up for the fight? Well first, let’s talk about those new residents, the doctors they’re going up against…

Reed, Charles, April and Jackson. The Mercy West crowd. Who are just as insecure and uncertain about their new situation as our people. And our residents are understandably nervous because, like any invader, these MW guys are a threat. They’re smart, they fight dirty if they have to and, like our residents, they’re not going down without a fight. Of course, our people don’t know that at the beginning of the episode. But they sure do by the end. They’ve been in a helluva dog fight. When we see Mercy West’s orange-clad foursome at the end of the episode, surveying their surgical domain from the exact same place where our people were at the beginning of the episode, we know that they’re here to stay. They’re just as determined to make this their new home as our people were when they first came to the hospital.

The new actors – their real names are Nora, Robert, Jesse and Sarah — were a blast to work with. I probably should have known all their credits and what shows they’ve been on before we started shooting but I didn’t. And none of that mattered because they were all so strong. And then when I saw them on screen, they looked great and were wonderfully believable as real doctors. Which was a great relief and should make for a fun rest of the season. So, let’s talk about the pairings.

Lexie and April. We got to see a new side of Lexie. One who could fight dirty and be a mean girl if she had to be. That is until the passive-aggressive April herself is undone when she finds out Lexie has read her notebook with all her little self-help homilies. That’s when Lexie softened. Which is what you do when you’ve trumped someone that badly. When you’ve kicked their obnoxious ass all over the place. After all, you can only be so gleeful in victory. When Lexie sees April tear up outside the scrub room, it makes her realize that even though April’s been pretty obnoxious throughout, maybe we’re not who we are in our worst moments. Maybe we’re, hopefully, something better.

Charles and Izzie. Izzie thinks that she’s found someone who maybe just maybe, reminds her a little of George. Certainly not a complete George replacement but someone who’s as charming and self-deprecating. And might someday be a good friend. And it goes to Izzie’s trusting instincts and her need to fill the void left by George that she quickly gloms onto a sympathetic soul like Charles. But, as the Chief tells her later, it’s a different era. The old rules don’t apply – be it with friendships or with jobs. A lesson that Izzie learns not just once in this episode, but twice. First when Charles brags about her being his surgical bitch and, second, when she makes that terrible medical mistake.

Jackson and Cristina. I liked them going toe to toe and especially loved Cristina finally deciding to hold up the white flag of surrender. Throwing in the surgical towel. We’ve been hinting in the previous episodes that without a Cardio God, she just doesn’t have her heart in it anymore. And as for Sandra Oh — in the scene when she’s crying with Meredith (and pining for Burke), well, my God, she was superb.

Alex and Reed. As Izzie says in the residents lounge at the start of the episode, Reed is not a big person. Still, as Alex finds out, she can flat out play this game. As much as I loved their competitive dynamic, each trying to outmaneuver the other one, I also liked showing our doctors as less than compassionate with their patient. I’ve visited a number of hospitals in the last few years and I’ve invariably found that our make-believe doctors generally pay much more attention to their patients than the real-life ones. It IS a struggle to have your voice heard in hospitals, to not be ignored. Sometimes they treat you less like a patient and more like, well, an invader. Of course, I might be holding them to a higher standard because my only reference point is a pretend hospital.

Now, back to Izzie and the Chief and Alex. When you tell the Chief of Surgery that you NEED this job, that you’ve got nothing else in your life, DESPITE the fact you’re married, you are in a very, very bad state indeed. I understand the part about sneaking off without telling anyone after you’ve been fired (see above) but to just leave your husband a note – that’s brutal. No wonder Alex has issues. Every time he puts himself out there, gets close to someone (remember Ava?) the poor guy gets knocked back on his heels.

By the way, in the firing scene, that beautiful shot when we come around Izzie to see all the emotions playing on her face was designed by the show’s director, Tony Phelan. His idea was to really get inside her emotionally at that moment. Tony had a lot of other great ideas for the episode. Ideas I would never have thought of because I’m not a director and Tony is. (I mostly just sat there and said “Good idea, Tony. Hey, they’re making omelettes. You want me to get you an omelette, Tony? You sure? Because they’re really good omelettes. I’ve already had two but they’re so good I may have a third. Are you sure you don’t want one, Tony?). Tony’s also one of the writers on our show. He is multi-talented. I am not. Still, everything you see in this blog was my idea. NOT Tony’s. If he does have ideas about it, frankly, he can keep them to himself. Give him all the credit you want for the episode, but this blog, my blog, is where I draw the line.

Finally, I want to talk about Callie and Arizona. Shonda came up with the idea of Mr. Torres showing up with the family priest. I immediately said YES because anytime I can see Hector Alizondo on my TV screen, I’m all for it. In the scene where he’s quoting the Bible at Callie, he really is afraid he’s going to lose her. He’s desperate, yanking out those index cards like her very life depends on it. It was Hector’s idea to use the cards. He didn’t think his character would know that stuff of the top of his head, which is how I originally wrote it. And he was right. And it worked beautifully. And that final scene when he and Callie are outside the hospital and he’s asking her if she’ll still get married, still have kids… I really, really liked that scene. And I really, really liked their whole story. All told, I thought the episode came out pretty well. At least well enough for me not to worry about having to clean out my desk for another couple of weekends…