The F Ward review – Anna Friel’s medical drama Never Quite Clean | Australian TV

AAmong The Pitt’s many virtues is the way it illustrates the power of hospitals as dramatic settings: inherently interesting pressure-cooker environments, which bring together people from all walks of life, in varying states of distress. It’s a great series, and it has resonated so strongly with audiences that every new drama set in a hospital for the foreseeable future will be judged by it.

That’s not good news for shows like Stan’s six-part series The F Ward, which by comparison seems like amateur hour, with an airy, overly lit aesthetic and a pulse that never quite rings with life. Much of the tense scenarios take place in the central setting, with a few flashes of intrigue here and there, though it feels like a “TV hospital” – a familiar, broadly plausible look but infused with an air of realism.

The performances were very good, and generally gained momentum as the series progressed, although there wasn’t a single character that really attracted me. This is despite the fact that the creators (Dan Edwards and Kelsey Munro, who made Stan’s Bump) and screenwriters (Munro, Shanti Gudgeon, Jack Yabsley and Nick Quayle) draw them from an interesting premise: the story revolves around a group of struggling trainee doctors, each stuffed in different ways, who are given one last chance to improve at Sydney’s underfunded Pines Hospital. Because what better way to rehabilitate struggling employees than by throwing them into a challenging, resource-hungry environment?

Among these trainees is Jimmy (Ioan Saola), who has a hidden heart condition that flares up during moments of stress; Ellie (Lola Bond), who had previously prescribed the wrong medications to a patient, resulting in the patient’s death; Josh (Alex FitzAlan), a party boy whose father (Jeremy Sims) is a star surgeon; and former nurse Lisa (Emily Barclay). Mentor characters include Dr. Gloria Wall (Anna Friel) and her deputy, Dr. Curtis (Dan Wylie).

This hospital is located right off the beach, because this is an Australian TV production, so Of course it is; Coastal settings are very popular and one might wonder if visions of rolling waves and golden sand are a government mandate. There are, of course, hospitals a stone’s throw from the beaches – including Mona Vale Hospital in Sydney, which inspired the hospital in this show – but here the choice of location feels like one of many devices, in this case designed for postcard views.

With so much potential for a compelling hospital-centric drama, it’s a little disappointing to see the show investing in more familiar elements, like workplace romance and after-hours parties. There are certainly plenty of “pass me the scalpel” type moments, which include the expected elements – like incisions and revelations of sticky body parts. But the staging in these operating room scenes isn’t great, as the camera often stays on the torso while obscuring the patient’s face, making the person under the knife feel anonymous—as if there’s no one there.

We meet people outside the operating room, of course, experiencing different states of pain, drifting in and out of the story. During one of these encounters, in the third episode (this review includes all six), there is an unexpected visual revelation of one man’s strangely inflamed genitals, which I think was intended to be morbidly humorous but doesn’t quite land. This is true of several moments: for example, Jimmy’s heart-related episodes are accompanied by distorted sound effects, structured in ways not unlike the trappings found in sub-par horror films.

Some well-known Australian actors appear in small roles here and there, including the ever-reliable Justin Rosniak as Luke, a patient suffering from a brain haemorrhage, and the equally excellent Alex Dimitriadis as Stefan, whom Lisa and Josh meet at a bar. But none of these appearances move the needle or leave much of an impression. Hospitals are inherently dramatic places, but it’s people, not procedures, that make these places come alive. And that’s the missing ingredient in The F Ward: truly compelling human stories.