by Jon Partridge
A TV project spearheaded by Steven Soderbergh (Magic Mike, Ocean’s Eleven), in collaboration with Cinemax/HBO, The Knick draws on the surgical revolution at the beginning of the 20th century and the historical figures involved to portray the workings of a hospital in New York in the 1900s.
Clive Owen stars as Dr. John Thackery, based on real-life medical pioneer William Stewart Halstead. A brilliant but flawed character, fueled by his ambition and addiction to cocaine. His medical advances and questionable life pursuits are intertwined with other dramatic elements circling around the lives and careers of the doctors and other employees at the Knickerbocker hospital, as well as in the city of New York itself, in a age where race, religion, and growing superstition over new medical techniques collide with the efforts of The Knick to advance their work.
The eye is initially drawn to the show because of the involvement of Soderbergh, who not only directed all 10 episodes but was also director of photography and editor, albeit under his usual pseudonyms. As a result The Knick has a very consistent, unified vision throughout its first season. With sumptuous and gritty production values, it’s chillingly authentic in its depictions of medical instruments and procedures. Shot in a cold, detached fashion often with a hand held camera, it’s skillful work, elevating even the simplest scene and giving the show a distinct feel.
Jack Amiel and Michael Begler, who wrote the series, have helped produce a smart show, one that doesn’t pander and immerses the viewer in the time of the piece. Modern day medical knowledge will induce several belly laughs or gasps of astonishment: the intentional unprotected exposure to X-rays or the “treatment” for cocaine addiction, for example. The medical aspect is one of the more intriguing facets of the show, but it is interwoven with dramatic elements including substance abuse, racism, misogyny, body snatching, and mental illness. It’s uncomfortable viewing at times, but solely because of its accuracy in portraying the times realistically, be it the actual surgical procedures or more social-related themes and conflicts. This includes rich and poor, white and black, educated and the…not so much. The show ultimately gives us a glimpse of social as well as medical advances.
One aspect of the production that veers away from being period-authentic is the music. Soderbergh enlisted Cliff Martinez, who had worked with the director on Contagion using a similar style. While cutting The Knick, Soderberg apparently used some EDM pieces from Spring Breakers, another Martinez effort, and decided to go in this direction. It’s noticeable at first, a stark modern spin laid over such a antiquated vision, but it not only works but is one of the most impressive aspects of the show.
The Knick is not a show you immediately click with, but one that you can immediately respect, and over the course of the season come to greatly appreciate. This is often the case when a narrative rests heavily on the often employed “anti-hero,” here Clive Owen’s “Thack.” Some may liken him to Hugh Laurie’s House, but that is doing a disservice to the character Owen has crafted, a man in pursuit of knowledge and greatness, to push his field and himself onward. The first season offers a tight and well plotted arc for the man, and it will be interesting to see whether the writers take him onward and upward, or if he will be doomed to repeat his destructive cycles a la Don Draper or Gregory House.
The other standout on the cast is Dr. Algernon Edwards, played with a quiet dignity by Andre Holland. Edwards is an African-American, trained at Harvard. yet still required to earn the respect of his peers while becoming, by result of his education, a outsider to many of his own race. As the season progresses the racial tensions within the hospital and indeed the city become more apparent, and his journey is extremely compelling. Another notable member of the cast is Eve Hewson as Nurse Lucy Elkins. Dedicated, caring, and ultimately swept up in the Thackary’s messed up world, Hewson gives a quiet but very effective performance. The rest of the assembled cast feels rich, with a grimy feel reminiscent of Deadwood. Although the show doesn’t come immediately close to having such fleshed out characters, the seeds and basic development have begun that hopefully are explored in the already commissioned second season.
THE PACKAGE
The Knick was filmed on Red Epic Dragon hi-def cameras, so as you’d expect the image is impressive, with sharp definition and a wonderful representation of the show’s color palette. The show veers from the stark interiors of the Knickerbocker hospital to the more seedy areas of 1900s New York, and all are represented with aplomb. It’s a visually stunning show, and the transfer here does it justice.
The Blu-ray release contains all 10 episodes from season one across 4 discs. Three of the episodes include audio commentaries with various members of the cast and crew. There is also a “Episode Post-Op” which devotes a few minutes to each episode showing behind the scenes material and interviews. For such a detailed representation of a historical era and the development of medicine, the lack of extras touching on this aspect of production is disappointing. The show had Stanley Burns, founder of The Burns Archive, acting as medical adviser, but there is little mention of this nor anything else of substance about how such an impressive and historically accurate show is put together. It’s a credit to the episodes themselves that they leave the viewer craving such insight, but the fact remains that this is one of those shows that could have been greatly enriched with some choice extras.
THE BOTTOM LINE
The Knick is a stunningly well-crafted vision from Soderbergh. A grim and often chilling affair with unsettling visuals and social issues, but tackled in a genuine and compelling manner. It’s less of a TV show and more of a living, breathing recreation of a gruesome yet gripping era.
The Knick is available on Blu-ray and DVD from August 11th, 2015