By Clint Morris
Wouldn’t at all be surprised to learn Darren Starr is ghost-writing for “Grey’s Anatomy” because, quite frankly, the show has gone from a once-intriguing hospital-set relationship drama to, well, “Melrose Place”.
There ain’t nobody hasn’t sleep with nobody on this show. Well, except maybe George. But he’s dead. But where there’s a will …
Not to say the show isn’t still a fun watch, it is, but next to it’s equally-popular spin-off “Private Practice”, “Grey’s” look like the naughty sibling, and the former, the one you speak proudly of.
What “Private Practice” is doing well is it’s balancing it’s sudsy relationship storylines effectively with it’s interesting weekly medical emergency-case. “Grey’s” still has the odd fix-it job to do on someone, but mostly, it’s a fix-up job involving McDreamy, a tub of lube and a bra dangling over the side of a stretcher.
The start of this seventh season starts out interesting enough, with enough emphasis on the characters and their struggles to hold the viewers attention (Meredith has a miscarriage, Alex is shot, Christina battles post-traumatic stress syndrome), as well as the introduction of a couple of interesting new characters (one, April, played by “Everwood” alum Sarah Drew being the one ‘most likely to succeed’). But by quarter-way through the season, all emphasis is back on either the romance or the ridiculous (they’re working on a woman wanting ‘butt implants’ at one stage – ho, ho, ho!). Oh, and in case you weren’t convinced the show catapulted over a white-pointer a season or two back, there’s an episode where the entire cast get around singing. Yes, the whole show. Singing.
A bunch of fun extras for the fans, namely an extended look at that musical episode.