Allan Heinberg on "The Heart of the Matter" ...

Original Airdate: 10-18-07

Not long ago, one of my smartest and most soulful friends found herself in the middle of a brutal divorce at exactly the same time my own ten-year relationship imploded.  We were both wrecked by the experience, but we got each other through it by convincing ourselves and each other that with enough time and therapy, we’d one day be able to let go of the all-consuming self-righteousness and rage we still felt toward our exes (who deserved it) and move on with our lives.  But a year and a half later, it still wasn’t happening.  We were angrier and bitterer and really tired of being single.  That’s when my smart, soulful and now impatient friend told me she’d figured it out.  “I have to forgive him,” she said.  “I’m never going to be able to move on until I forgive him.”  And I knew she was right.  I had to find a way to forgive my ex, too.  But how?  I mean, even if I was finally able to let go of all my anger and be grateful for the ten years we had together, how was I supposed to get in touch with him after sixteen months of terrible silence and say, “I forgive you”?  What the hell does he care if I’ve forgiven him.  He’s probably already moved on with his life.  He probably doesn’t even think he needs my stupid forgiveness.

So what did I do?  I did what most television writers do when they need the answer to one of life’s unanswerable questions:  I wrote a GREY’S ANATOMY episode about forgiveness and hoped to learn a little something along the way.

So, the subject of forgiveness:

George cheated on Callie.  He did.  He didn’t mean to exactly -- after all, George has proven himself to be a principled, loving person in the past -- but in a moment of angry, drunken weakness, he fell into bed with his best friend and apparently fell in love with her, too.  And then -- as if that wasn’t bad enough -- George lied to Callie about it.  For a long time.  And when he did finally tell Callie about his infidelity, he didn’t say he was in love with Izzie.  He told her he’d slept with her.  Maybe because he didn’t want to hurt Callie any more than he already had.  Or perhaps because he was hoping she’d be the one to end the marriage so he wouldn’t have to?  But that’s not what happened.  Instead George got the one response he’d never even considered.  Callie forgave him.  For Callie, that’s what you do when you love someone -- especially when you’ve made a lifelong commitment to someone -- you forgive him.  No matter what.  That’s what love’s about, right? 

So Callie forgave George.  And George suddenly found himself paralyzed -- unable to move in any direction -- until it became clear in that moment of near violence with her patient’s boyfriend that Callie, in fact, did not forgive George.  In spite of her best efforts, she’d been hurt, betrayed, and publicly humiliated to the point where forgiveness was impossible.  And she certainly had no forgiveness in her heart for Izzie -- even though Izzie seems to have finally realized that, although she and George may be the star-crossed heroes of their own love story, in Callie’s story, they're the bad guys.

Richard’s story also turns on the question of forgiveness.  As much as he still loves Adele -- and wants to stay married to her -- he cannot allow his feelings for her to dictate the way he fulfills his responsibilities as a physician.  Which has always been the conflict in their marriage.  And which -- in the context of Camille’s life or death decision -- Adele ultimately deems unforgivable.

As for Camille, keen-eyed GREY’S ANATOMY viewers will notice that the role is now being played by the brilliant Camille Winbush.  (If you’ve seen THE BERNIE MAC SHOW, you’ll recognize her instantly as Vanessa, Bernie’s sane, sharp-tongued niece.)  When the incredible Tessa Thompson, who originated the role of Camille, wasn’t available, we were fortunate indeed that Camille was able to step into part at the last minute with such extraordinary grace, intelligence, and heart.  I know cast changes are jarring, but Camille’s performance is so beautiful and so strong, I’m hoping you’ll forgive us.

In fact, forgiveness figures prominently in nearly all our characters’ stories.  Cristina forgives Lexie for being an intern.  Lexie forgives Cristina for being the new Nazi.  Mrs. Bitzer forgives Meredith and Norman when their carelessness makes her Icelandic dreams come true.  But for me the most remarkable act of forgiveness comes from Derek.

As a GREY’S writer, the question I’m most often asked (by parents, siblings, friends, and agents) is “Why aren’t Meredith and Derek together?”  Especially since Addison is gone and there don’t seem to be any concrete obstacles standing in their way.  “Why,” they ask, “can’t those two just stop whining and get together and be happy for a change?”   And most of the time when people share their feelings on the subject, it’s poor Meredith who gets the blame.  She has issues.  She’s dark and twisty.  She’s self-destructive and can’t allow herself even a single moment’s happiness.  But I don’t think that’s entirely accurate or fair.  After all, Derek lied at the beginning of their relationship by not revealing he was married.  And then when Addison showed up at Seattle Grace, he left Meredith and went back to her.  So, I can understand why Meredith has trust issues with Derek.

But in terms of why they’re not together now, the most compelling analysis comes from Mark Sloan (and it’s a remarkable testament to the power of forgiveness that Mark and Derek’s friendship has survived to this point) when he observes that Meredith is essentially still an intern.  She’s just starting out -- as a physician and as an adult -- whereas Derek’s life and career are firmly established.  He knows exactly who he is and what he wants -- and he’s ready to settle down.  He’s ready to get married and build Meredith a house and have kids with her and grow old with her.  And I’m sorry, but Meredith just isn’t there yet.  Nor should she be.  She’s a second year intern who’s only now coming to terms with who she is and what she wants to be.

Meredith and Derek love each other -- they do -- they may even be each other’s soul mates -- but right now they’re at vastly different points in their lives.  It’s no one’s fault.  It’s just a fact.  And by the end of the episode when Derek gets on the elevator, I think he finally sees and accepts Meredith for who she truly is -- regardless of whether or not she’s able to give him what he wants in that moment.  He simply loves her.  In spite of everything that’s gone before and no matter what happens next.

Which seems to me to be what forgiveness is really about:  acceptance.  Letting go of the hurt feelings -- or more precisely the ego blows -- we experience when our lives -- and the people in our lives -- don’t behave the way we want them to.  Which, let’s face it, is most of the time.  But if we can somehow recognize and accept ourselves and others for who we are -- without judgment -- those “hurt feelings” fade away and are replaced by what feels a lot like forgiveness.  At least that’s what happened with me and my ex.

Thanks for watching.  And for reading.

-- Allan Heinberg

Allan Heinberg on "Testing 1-2-3"

Original airdate: 5-10-07

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, sometimes, terrible things happen on GREY’S ANATOMY.  Wonderful things happen, too.  People fall in love.  They have the best sex of their lives.  They have epiphanies about life and love and surgery and so forth.  But mostly on GREY’S ANATOMY people accidentally puncture their surgical gloves with their fingernails during a heart surgery.  Or they sleep with the wrong people -- again and again.  Or they die.  Occasionally they die and come back to life, but for the most part they die, and it’s devastating:  George’s father; Meredith’s mother; Meredith’s step-mother.  It can make for compelling television drama, but it’s not entirely unlike real life, where terrible things happen to us, to our friends, and to the world around us without warning or explanation.  And we’re human beings, most of us, so when terrible things happen, we want to know the reasons why.  We want the suffering to mean something.  And when the meaning isn’t immediately evident, we assign meaning as a way of comprehending, if not controlling, what seem like random acts of terribleness.  When bad things happen, we make sense of them by calling them tests.  Tests we either pass or fail before moving on to the next level of experience, but ones we hopefully learn from either way.

As Season Three hurtles toward its shattering, emotional conclusion, the interns at Seattle Grace face a very real and terrifying test:  a written exam, which will determine whether they become residents next season or whether they’ll be dropped from the surgical program altogether.  The attendings, too, are now just one day away from discovering the results of their season-long test.  Tomorrow they’ll find out whom Richard has recommended to become Chief of Surgery -- the same day Bailey and Callie discover Richard's choice for Chief Resident.

As usual, however, the professional challenges the doctors face are nothing compared to their personal ones.  Cristina and Burke are twenty-four hours from their wedding.  Izzie's bracing herself, about to lose George to Callie and Mercy West.   Alex discovers Ava has been concealing her true identity from him.  Derek feels he's losing Meredith in the wake of Susan's death.  And Meredith feels like she’s already lost everything:  her career, her relationship, and her family.

Meredith’s first test arrives before this episode even begins in that she has to decide whether or not to attend Susan’s funeral.  After the way Susan died, and Thatcher’s physically violent reaction to the news, Meredith would understandably harbor some ambivalence about going.  Especially on the day of the intern exam.  But in a surprising show of strength and resolve, Meredith doesn’t whine or deliberate over her decision.  She simply puts on her black dress and sets off for the funeral.  Even when Cristina gives her the out of asking the Chief to let her take the exam another day, Meredith refuses.  She doesn't need to reschedule the test.  She's ready.

What Meredith isn’t ready for, however, is her father’s showing up drunk and angry at the hospital and publicly humiliating her all over again.  At which point Meredith simply shuts down.  She sinks under the weight of her own life -- and her own perceived failures -- just as she did when she drowned.  Faced with her mother’s dismissing her life as merely “ordinary” -- and her father’s brutal rejection -- Meredith seems to will herself out of existence, failing to complete the intern exam and to communicate with Derek.  That is, until her friends intervene.  Confronted with the prospect of losing one of their own -- a test in and of itself -- the interns set aside their own conflicts and concerns and fight together for Meredith.  In the end, Meredith’s biggest test isn’t whether or not she fails or succeeds as an intern.  It’s whether she can allow herself to be helped -- to be taken care of -- to be loved -- by others.  When her biological family casts her aside, Meredith’s Seattle Grace family is there to support her unconditionally -- and, though it’s obviously painful and difficult, especially where Richard is concerned (“You’re not my father.”), Meredith ultimately lets them.

For Derek, who’s consigned to having to watch Meredith go through all this from the sidelines, it sometimes seems as if his entire relationship with Meredith has been a test.  And what's the right answer at this point?  To take her at her word that she's fine?  That she needs to go to Susan’s funeral by herself?  Or should he worry and hover -- making sure she’s still breathing -- as he’s been doing since she drowned?  In the end, Derek listens to Meredith -- he gives her the space she’s asked for -- but as a result, the distance between them grows wider than ever.  Derek ends up walking away from Meredith as she re-takes the intern exam -- leaving her in the care of her waiting friends -- but does that mean he’s failed her?  After all, he doesn’t succumb to the temptation of accepting the drink from the girl in the bar.  He remains true to Meredith, even if he remains excluded from her experience.  Again.  But for how long?

As for Cristina, the intern test seems to pose little or no challenge for her.  She has Callie’s cards and… she’s Cristina, she’s going to be fine.  And it’s not even her relationship with Burke that’s testing her at the moment.  It’s her relationship to the wedding itself:  the ceremony, the ritual, the vows -- all of which, in Cristina’s mind, have nothing to do with her and Burke.  But the demands of the wedding itself continue to test her patience and resolve.  And her sense of self.  Is she the sort of person who vows to love and cherish and honor till death do us part?  Burke knows she’s not.  Yet, in spite of himself, he’s expecting her to go through with it anyway.  Burke, too, faces the challenge of not judging Cristina's commitment to their marriage by the way she's participating (or not) in their wedding.  But in his mind, aren’t they one and the same?  Does her reticence to commit herself to him in public betray a deeper reluctance to commit to him at all?  According to Burke, it will all come down to the moment he sees her walking toward him down the aisle.  At which time, he’ll know.  He’ll know the answer to the question, “Do you, Preston, take this woman, Cristina, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

But with some tests, there are no right answers.

Ava lies to Alex, concealing her true identity, and in doing, she fails him.  She betrays his trust.  But it seems she does so for Alex.  She keeps her identity a secret so that she can remain with him at Seattle Grace, rather than return to the marriage she was trying to escape in the first place.  It’s not the right thing to do, certainly, but it is an act of love.  In the end, even Alex can see that.  But how much will he be able to trust someone who lied to him?  Even if she did so out of love?

Addison's test is played largely for comedy in this episode as she struggles to come to terms with her infertility in the face of a seeming army of pregnant women.  And at no time does she ever put her personal struggle above the needs of her patients or her friendship with Callie.  She passes this test several times over, but she does so, it seems, at the risk of her own long-term happiness.

And it’s far too late for Izzie and George to do the “right” thing with regard to each other and Callie.  George and Callie’s marriage has already been compromised.  And no matter how real or deep Izzie and George’s feelings for each other are, their relationship has been compromised, as well.  And up until this point in his life, George has considered himself a highly moral person.  He’s not a man who cheats on his wife.  So what is the right answer for George, at this point?  Does he remain at Seattle Grace and continue to try to deny his feelings for Izzie?  Or should he tell Callie the truth, even if it means hurting her and ending their marriage?  Or does he stay the course by keeping silent, recommitting to the marriage, and sparing Callie’s feelings?  There is no right answer at this point.  George is a highly moral person doing his utmost to be the best doctor -- the best friend -- the best husband he can be.  But people, no matter how well intentioned, make mistakes.  If life is a series of tests, there is no perfect score.  You do the best you can and try to learn from your mistakes, because before you know it, life has another test in store.  And another.  And then one after that.  Not unlike episodes of series television. 

Speaking of which, we have only one episode left of GREY’S ANATOMY this season, and it’s epic.  And we’re already well into our work on Season Four -- talking about how far the characters have come in three seasons and where they seem to want to go next. 

Thanks for reading,
Allan Heinberg

Allan Heinberg on "What I Am"

Original Airdate: 10-12-06

So, here’s the thing:  you people terrify me.

            You’re passionate, you’re insightful, you’re bravely outspoken.  You know Grey’s Anatomy and its characters better than anyone, except maybe Shonda Rhimes.  And I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you write about the show, debate it, love and/or hate it carries an enormous amount of weight in the Writers Room.

            All of which makes the experience of blogging here for the first time absolutely terrifying.

            Not that I’m complaining.  Blogging is part of my new job description, because I now happen to have the best job in the whole history of jobs.  I’m one of the new writers on Grey’s Anatomy.  Grey’s-freaking-Anatomy, people.  My favorite show on television.  I’ve been a hardcore fan from the first moment of the first episode.  I’ve read all the blogs.  Listened to the podcasts.  Devoured the DVD’s, the bonus features, the commentary tracks.  And between you and me?  I’ve actually spent some serious time geekily compiling episode-by-episode Grey’s soundtrack playlists on iTunes.  Seriously.  I’m that guy.

            So as nervous as I am about this blog, you can probably imagine the internal anxiety attack I was having the first day I showed up for work.  Would the writers accept me?  Would I be able to write in the voice of the show?  Would Patrick Dempsey be every bit as intensely soulful in person as he is on TV? 

My friends advised me to just be myself.  Which is great advice in theory, but not so easy to put into practice.  Because as it turns out, my sense of self is pretty fragile and entirely too dependent on who I’m hanging out with, and how work is going, and whether or not I indulged in dessert after dinner last night.  (Which I did and now regret.)  So, as much as I would love to report that I know exactly who I am and what I want at this moment in my life, the truth is, my therapist and I are still trying to figure that out.

            So, the theme of this week’s episode is identity.  And the question at its heart is:  “Who am I?”  We ask that question all day every day in the Writers’ Room -- about the characters, about ourselves -- and when a patient lights up a cigarette in his hospital bed, igniting his oxygen supply and burning his face off, the doctors and interns of Seattle Grace Hospital are forced to ask themselves the same thing.  If you take away the all-consuming surgeries, the hospital politics, and romantic indiscretions, who are the men and women of Seattle Grace?  Who is Preston Burke if he can’t operate?  Is Derek Shepherd essentially selfish or authentically McDreamy? And is Meredith Grey sensitive and soulful or just the slutty intern who can’t make up her mind?

            The episode begins with several of the show’s characters feeling very much not like themselves.  Meredith is so conflicted, so paralyzed at having to choose between Derek and Finn, she’s literally sick to her stomach.  Burke’s lingering hand tremor has undermined his confidence to the point where he’s now only performing surgery on dead chickens.  And Addison, reeling from the end of her marriage and the sudden reappearance of Mark Sloan, is wondering what the hell she’s still doing in Seattle.

            But because of the life-and-death nature of their jobs, the surgeons of SGH don’t have time to sit around contemplating the ephemeral nature of identity.  They have patients to attend to and lives to save.  They have to take action.  Addison snaps out of her funk and performs an emergency C-section, the experience of which gives her enough clarity to set some much-needed boundaries with Mark Sloan.  And Burke’s single-minded determination to get back in the O.R. ends up taking his relationship with Cristina to an entirely unexpected, intensely intimate, and morally complicated place.

            Meredith’s medical emergency, of course, forces her to spend most of the episode high on morphine, revealing her to be much more adorably goofy and touchingly vulnerable than she has been previously.  So much so that when Meredith confesses how badly Derek hurt her by choosing Addison, Addison can’t help but empathize.

Derek, too, is ultimately defined by his actions.  In the end, he clearly loves Meredith so deeply, he’d rather walk away than risk hurting her again.  And Meredith, in turn, loves Derek so much, she does the difficult thing, the brave thing, the honorable thing, and breaks up with Finn, in spite of the fact that she knows Derek won’t be there for her afterward. 

But the question of identity is perhaps most pressing for Izzie at this moment.  After all, she’s no longer in the surgical program.  She’s not Denny’s fiancée.  She’s not even his widow.  Lost in her own grief, Izzie has no idea who she is -- until the moment Denny’s father calls into question her love for Denny.  In that moment, Izzie -- like Addison, like Derek and Meredith, like Burke and Cristina -- Izzie takes action.  Her eyes flash dangerously and she protects -- not herself -- but Denny.  In that moment, all the complicated, extenuating circumstances of her life cease to matter, and she becomes entirely, heroically Izzie Stevens.

The same is true for Alex, who may not want to be on Addison’s gynie brigade, but clearly has an affinity for it.  And for George, who, when all is said and done, chooses to be there for Izzie, rather than indulge in a romantic night with Callie.

As usual, though, it’s Bailey who seems to have the surest handle on the subject, instructing Sloan that in the end, “it’s not about what you look like -- or your job -- or how successful you are.  It’s about having people in your life that you love -- who love you.”

So, Shonda’s telling me enough already.  Time to post the blog.  My instinct is, of course, to keep working on it, to try to make it better, to try to make it the best blog it can possibly be.  But I’ve learned enough from Grey’s Anatomy at this point to know that our lives are defined, not by what we say, but what we do. 

So, what I’m gonna do… is post this blog.

Thanks for reading.  And for watching.

Here goes…