From Village Voice 10/29/96

A Place Called Hope

Chicago Hope Mondays, 10 p.m., CBS

In the 1994 showdown season, a year ago even, the duh factor of ER versus Chicago Hope was off the charts: ER, in spades. Cute Dr. Ross, wacky cases, and action action action. Chicago Hope, well, it was pretty much a flatline. Mandy Patinkin et al. in a hospital-based drama (snooze) trying to overcome the life-threatening handicap of a really stupid name. Big surprise—ER took off, dominating Thursday nights and banishing Hope to the Monday morgue.

Wait, Doctor, I've got a pulse!

The summer hiatus gave me the chance to catch up on a little Hope, and now, into both shows' third season, head to head, blood gas for blood gas, I have to admit that Chicago Hope wins. People, it turns out, are ultimately more interesting than situations, and Chicago Hope's classic character-based writing is more sustaining in the stretch, while ER's adrenaline runs out.

Just compare charts. At Chicago Hope, the bitch is a bitch, no apologies--ER's is a cripple with a crutch, so everyone has to feel sorry for her. You say Doug Ross, but I say Jack McNeil (Mark Harmon, who earned his scrubs long ago on St. Elsewhere). ER can't find even one Jewish doctor to add to their staff, but Chicago Hope's got, count 'em, three African American M.D.s. Sexual tension? Hope has Hancock and Camille; Diane Grad and Billy Kronk; Kate Austin and everyone. Plus, Phillip Watters (Hector Elizondo) is the sexiest bald man this side of Captain Picard. Two years in the ER and the ever-flustered Dr. Carter is the show's only compelling principal.

Turnaround is fair play, and it looks like ER needs the transfusion, while Chicago Hope is fully resuscitated. But don't feel bad about making the switch. My prognosis is ER won't survive the Suddenly Stupid intro. Here's Hope-ing.