Time for the postmortem on House, a show that, paradoxically, I never once "loved" but also never once fell behind by more than a year and a half. If you've read the blog for a while, you'll know I'm typically not a fan of procedural dramas, and House is basically the one and only lone exception. Its characters were just interesting enough, and its week-to-week formula just variable enough, for me to grow as invested in it as I did. You can read my recaps of the fifth, sixth, and seventh seasons somewhere on this blog, about three, two, and one year ago, respectively. So, how did it all end?
Eh. There were things to like about this eighth and final season of House. Cuddy is gone, so Foreman, House's old employee, steps into the role of dean of medicine. This subversion of their power dynamic was at least interesting. Sadly this is basically all Foreman got to do all season. Amber Tamblyn's character is gone after one season, and she's been replaced by two more fairly meaningless female doctors in Charlyne Yi (the quirky Asian one!) and Odette Annable (who? exactly!) Chase and Taub return to round out House's crew, and Wilson - the show's only sympathetic character - is back for one more year of the involuntary burden of being House's only friend. But other than this slight casting tweak - the fourth in five seasons or so - is House any different? Nah. And neither is non-italicized House, its main character. Or anybody else. One of the show's most repeated sentiments over the years is that people never really change. By addressing this belief, the show managed to retain its tried and true formula for eight whole years with a few tweaks here and there. So, kudos. This lack of character development isn't necessarily a bad thing; The Sopranos had the same cynical opinion, and is one of my favorite shows of all time. But while that show was beautifully crafted and full of examples of people trying to change but slipping naturally back into their vices and bad tendencies, House attempts nothing of the sort. House has been to rehab and to prison, but he can't shake his Vicodin addiction and he can't hold down a relationship and he's a total asshole to his colleagues and patients alike. Hugh Laurie pulls the role off where it would have failed horribly in most other hands, with just enough charisma and humor to keep you from completely hating the smarmy and stubborn egomaniac.
Anyway, what else is there to say? The series' peak, for me, was the WGA strike-shortened fourth season, which played out like a reality TV show for ten episodes or so (House eliminates potential team members one by one until he's found three people he's satisfied with) and ended with the best pair of episodes the show has ever done. Other highlights include the first season's "Three Stories," in which the explanation for House's limp and most of his unhappiness is revealed, and the season finales of Seasons 5 and 6. The Season 7 finale? Potentially a series low point. The series finale? Over-the-top as hell, but adequate. I'm left in a good place with House now, satisfied by its closing montage and content to extrapolate future life stories for all of the characters I cared about.
So, farewell, House. You were never the greatest show on TV, but you were certainly worth your eight-year run.
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