I have to say I agree with all of this, especially the Bailey part
Prescriptions for an ailing 'Anatomy'
By Matthew Gilbert, Boston Globe Staff | November 8, 2006
"Grey's Anatomy" is exhibiting signs of a debilitating illness known as Shark-jump-itis Waterski-us, more commonly referred to as self-parody. And now that November sweeps are heating up, and networks and writers are itchy-scratchy for more viewers, the symptoms are bound to worsen. However, with early detection and behavior modification, the top-rated ABC series could go on to live a healthy, happy, and, of course, humorously narcissistic life.
It's almost a cliche by now. America falls for a show like "Grey's Anatomy," the ratings soar, the media buzz grows deafening, and finally the product becomes infected and compromised by its own fame. "Desperate Housewives" succumbed in record time, as creator Marc Cherry lost his original vision amid the hype of his first season.
Now that bug is threatening "Grey's Anatomy" creator Shonda Rhimes, and what was once fresh is starting to feel like a factory-made version of itself. Rhimes's whimsy is at risk of becoming formulaic, her romantic circles are spiraling out of control, and her self-interested characters are taking over. She may be listening more to the celebratory hype around "Grey's Anatomy" than her own muse.
My first healing suggestion: Free Bailey!
Dr. Miranda Bailey should be ruling the roost, barking and biting, and not wallowing like so many of her young doctors. The newbies on "Grey's Anatomy" are all about Seattle Grace gossip and their own sex lives, and that self-absorption is entertaining, particularly since it counteracts the heroic approach to doctoring on the likes of "ER."
But we could always count on Dr. Bailey to burst the others' self-centered bubbles. This season, however, she has succumbed to the vacuum. My theory is that Rhimes is trying to help actress Chandra Wilson win an Emmy, letting her feverishly emote outside the locked room of a "plague" victim in one episode. Bailey has gone from telling George to stop looking at her "va-jay-jay" to moping guiltily with Izzie.
Recommendation #2: Give us George back, too.
McSweetie has gone from the only selfless and lovable character to just another me-me-me-aholic. Like Bailey, he has fallen into the show's maw of codependent self-absorption, as his on-offs with Callie lack the backbone he once had. Rhimes has wisely kept Meredith dislikable and yet McDreamy's object of desire, which is a critical part of what makes this show crisp; but she has futzed with George to no good end.
A third note: Incest is not best.
One irritating side effect of most ensemble series is insularity -- in this case, only a handful of doctors seem to run the entire hospital. But the romantic interconnectedness within the "Grey's Anatomy" gang is growing particularly busy, with Meredith, Derek, Addison, Mark, Callie, and George forming a chain of fools that loops all the way back around. Seattle Grace's interlocking ménage has gone from kooky and soapy to just plain ridiculous.
Also romantically ridiculous: That Finn and Derek would be so smitten with Meredith they'd agree to co-date her. That plot pushed the show's female point-of-view to the limits. Rhimes needs to be very careful about her approach to Derek and Meredith. Ross and Rachel of "Friends" are the great cautionary tale of on-again, off-again romance on TV. By the time they finally got together for good, they seemed more like brother and sister than lovers.
A fourth prescription: Break up the meter.
The "Grey's Anatomy" dialogue that was stylish at first, with its repeating sentence structures and phrases, has started to sound robotic and precious. Aaron Sorkin of "The West Wing" and "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" also has this tic. "This is not dating," Meredith said when Finn accosted her during a date with Derek. "I want moonlight, and flowers, and candy, and people trying to feel me up. Nobody is trying to feel me up. Nobody is even looking at me." The rhythm is the same for all the characters, something that happens in a Woody Allen movie when everyone starts to sound like Allen himself. Even Callie, the un-Meredith in many ways, is starting to speak like the rest.
Meredith's voiceovers, in which she waxes poetic about "pain" and "guilt" while trying to make each episode seem like it was so well-written that it has a single theme, are also getting monotonous. It may be time for them to go.
Fifth and finally: Keep both eyes on your prize.
Creator-writer-producer David E. Kelley may be the poster child for TV auteurs whose work has succumbed to self-parody. Instead of pushing forward with his vision on "Ally McBeal," he took what was exciting about it and put that on a sample loop. Meanwhile, he moved his interest and inspiration into other projects, letting others re-create his magic.
Rhimes is now at a similar crossroads, as she creates a new pilot about broadcast journalism (starring Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Denny on "Grey's") and has to start splitting her time between two series.
"Grey's Anatomy" isn't built to run on automatic pilot like the "CSI" or "Law & Order" shows. That's what makes it special -- the excitement of a particular writer discovering new territory. Like "Ally McBeal," Rhimes's creation is of a more fragile constitution than most dramas, and it requires care to stay fit.