Oh, boy. Every now and again, Brilliant Minds delivers an episode like "The Fire Fighter," seemingly just for its own sick pleasure. I've been rather enjoying the consistent teasing out of Season 2's overarching plot, but you sometimes need something like Episode 9 to remind you of what this show is so good at. When it wants to be, it's a remarkably moving and tender drama, and Eric Dane's cameo makes for the most stirring installment of the season thus far.
Dane, who has ALS in real life, is playing the titular firefighter who is struggling, logistically and psychologically, with a recent diagnosis of the disease. As a premise - a typically masculine man refusing to inconvenience his colleagues or his family at the expense of his own health - that's pretty emotional on its own, but the layer of reality makes it even more effective.
There's no "mystery" element to this - that comes up elsewhere - so the focus is instead on the wide-ranging psychological impact of being diagnosed with a progressive, incurable disease, not just on the sufferer but on their immediate family, too. A proud man like Dane's character, Matthew, doesn't want to become a burden to his wife and daughter, or the men in the firehouse, so he's doing everything he can to obscure the rate at which his condition is worsening. In trying to protect them, he's only harming them further by not allowing them to be there for him in the way they want to be.
I appreciate that the arc here isn't trying to be edgy or even too "realistic." There's an idealized quality to the depiction of family that is extremely heart-warming and reassuring. Matthew's family loves him unconditionally and wants unequivocally to help him. They know there won't be a miracle cure or a happy ending, but their rallying around him is the happy ending. There's an earnestness to Dane's performance here that comes from such an obviously legitimate place that it's very difficult not to be moved by.
Family is a recurring theme in "The Fire Fighter." Sam shows up again, but this time his problem isn't his mental health - it's liver failure. Well, it's also his mental health, but for different reasons. Sam's wish to get better doomed him in a roundabout sense. He took the medications, including some for pain, but popping the pills resulted in an accidental overdose that destroyed his liver. Now he needs a transplant, and getting a transplant is much easier said than done.
In the Season 2, Episode 9 of "Brilliant Minds," a critique of the American medical system is presented with remarkable openness. While it doesn't quite reach the level of "New Amsterdam," it's close enough to be a pertinent example of why this criticism is worth mentioning. Sam, an unhoused and mentally ill individual without a support system, isn't a viable candidate for a transplant. Despite the doctors' best efforts to plead his case, they need to make him more eligible, rather than convincing the panel to accept him as-is. This means reuniting Sam with his estranged family.
If nothing else, this is unequivocally a success. Sam had alienated his family out of fear of hurting them, but once they're reunited, they're determined not to abandon him again, even if he claims that's what he wants. However, this doesn't magically get Sam the transplant he needs. The idealism of the A-plot doesn't extend to this. But there's at least a better chance now.
Since this episode is neatly divided into two parts, there's little else to discuss except for some minor notes with Wolf. Muriel unexpectedly returns for Thanksgiving – yes, this is a Thanksgiving special – and understandably wants to address Wolf's feelings about his dad's departure. The situation hasn't been addressed much, and Wolf has been burying himself in his work, so when Muriel drops in at his home and sees the whole place in a neglected state, even his beloved plants, she gets to work. A mother's job is never quite done, and Muriel proves that by whipping the place into shape. Oliver is shocked when he returns. He's even a little resistant. But he carves the turkey all the same, a silent gesture of submission. No matter how old you get, sometimes you just need your mum to make you feel better.
