Truly stunning, "Autopsy" delivers from all angles. Never have I been so emotionally moved through this medium of entertainment.
9.8
"Superb"
Gregory House is a man of principals, however strange and sometimes intriguingly twisted they may be. Principals that are unlike anything that others would consider normal principals, or even normal human behavior. Among these principals are conclusions that first and foremost, everybody lies, and, of course, life is pretty grim. So it shouldn't surprise that I was taken aback - no, it was more like I was launched from my seat and hurdled across the room, resulting in a dizzy storm that rivals that of the fastest roller coasters - when House plainly stated that "no one wants to die." Yeah, he really said that.
Are you sure this is House? Dr. House? The limped, hobbled Vicodin-popping cripple that is sarcastically caustic to everyone about everything? The man who is a beacon for cynics across the globe to continue in their pessimistic pursuits? It goes without saying that this was unexpected. House does not enjoy life, in most senses of the word, and is not at all hesitant to let people know that. Life is hard, and cold, and depressing, and bitter and uncaring and lonely and yet House, knowing all this, declares that no one wants to die?
Yes, he did say that, but what he didn't say is that everyone wants to live.
Because not everyone does. House knows this, and yet he also knows that no one truly wants to die. For a lack of better options, death may seem like an exit, an escape, but not a very good one.
For all the pain and the grief and the resounding unknown surrounding it, death is not something that people look forward to. Only when earthly circumstances are so despairing is it used as a selective exit, as their are no other exits to be made. A stalwart atheist, House does not contain any religious bias on death and what bliss may follow, and yet he doesn't care too terribly much about his own life. Or at least he claims. He doesn't want to live, necessarily, but that doesn't mean he wants to die.
Chase kissed a nine-year-old cancer patient on the lips, and I was simply amazed that not only did Chase fulfill the girl's request to be kissed, but that the writers even brought up the issue and then presented the character with such a difficult decision. Knowing that this girl, Andie, may be dead in a matter of days (and certainly in a year), Chase leaned over and gave her what she wanted.
As Andie coyly pointed out, no one else was in the room and no one would ever find out. Chase realized this as well, and yet when the question of her sexual activity was brought up he quickly defended her and told House (guaranteeing himself some insults) and the others what he did without a tinge of hesitation. Chase was not ashamed of what he did; he didn't kiss Andie only because she was dying and pleaded with him, but he sympathized and felt that she should get to feel what it's like to be kissed. Some might have found the scene disgusting and may feel that what Chase did was unnecessary, but I emphatically disagree. The scene was brilliant, touching, and chilling.
On to my favorite doctor duo: House and Wilson. These two and their ethical views clashed once again in this episode, and Wilson, for the first time, lashed back at House and actually thought the Good Crippled Doctor was out of line. House was extremely unmoved by Andie's bravery, calling it into question and doubting the authenticity of the dying girl's emotional strength. When House asks Wilson if he can tag along with him as he goes to tell Andie she's likely going to die, Wilson's patient virtue is broken and House is told to go to hell. It will be interesting to see if this brief hostility develops further in future episodes.
The means to save the already condemned to death girl (parallel to last week, anyone?) were indeed radical, and House treating it as a play with himself as director was amusing. Foreman saved the day in an episode that features not much else of significance with him.
Lawrence Kaplow is a genius, and what a way to take Hugh Laurie's assumed real-life sickness and use it for the betterment of the script. David Shore, you are standing on the shoulders of giants.