An anaesthetist's dream of a medical drama : Television & Radio Review

Towards the end of ER (C4), the hospital administrator is fussing over the fact that one of her head nurses has just tried to commit suicide. She's worried about the publicity, you see: after all, "some damn TV network could get hold of it and tryto make a sentimental movie about it". As a critic it's always best to treat lines like this as if they were drugged meat. Too good to be true, surely - such a succulent gift, oozing self-regard. In this case, though, it seems to be for real. It's a little dab of self-reference behind the ears, obviously - a whiff of the real world - but to work it absolutely depends on the fact that no one will yell "some damn TV network already did". I imagine that the makers of ER (the novelist Michael Crichton wrote the pilot and Spielberg has a hand in it somewhere) think of it as being "gritty", that indispensible texture for procedural drama. It isn't, in fact. Gritty can be uncomfortable and ERis never that. Everything has been sifted until it attains a digestible smoothness. This doesn't preclude unpleasant subjects entirely, but it means that anything with a sharp edge has to be coated in such a way that it can't snag in the viewer's throat- I believe the technical term in the confectionary trade is "enrobed".

In this case, the velvety drape of chocolate is replaced by control and reassurance. Even if the selection box of human experience contains a few hard centres, everything will be perfectly palatable. A battered baby (whose distress, incidentally, clearlycannot be acted) seems to raise the possibility of an unsalvable hurt but you're not to upset yourself unduly; "Is the baby OK?" asks the anxious baby-sitter, who has blown the whistle on her white-collar employer. "He will be" says the doctor, with a little smile.

The programme is full of such sighs of relief - full of meaningful glances and wry grins which iron out its synthetic creases before they can really discomfit you. People get cross but always apologise, credit is given where credit is due, and nobody, but nobody, is obnoxious or greedy. When things are getting a bit grim, a pregnant woman is wheeled through the door, delivering a baby who will presumably be christened Sometimes-it-all-seems-worthwhile. It's true that Dr Kildare never had old ladies coughing up blood down his shirt front, which may persuade some that ER offers something like realism, but you only have to recall last year's Cardiac Arrest, a far more uneven and truthful drama, to see how sedated its responses are. ER includes some medical in-jokes (a boozed-up doctor hooking himself to a saline drip to avoid waking up with a hangover) but it won't admit to the possibility of indifference or despair as John McUre's series did.

The script makes front line troops out of its principles - in combat one moment, playing the harmonica in a foxhole the next. There's even a grizzled veteran / rookie angle, with a resident surgeon teaching a young student how to cope with the blood and the death, a little homily always at the ready. A bit later Dr Benton goes over the top and rushes a ruptured abdominal aneurism, an act of reckless courage which is, naturally, successful and for which he receives a gruff commendation from his superior.The series has been a big hit in America, so if you enjoy mock battles you'll be happy for years to come.

Thief Takers (ITV) is an attempt to resuscitate the old-style police series - the ones where the police weren't the bad guys. Somebody has whacked two steam irons on to The Sweeney's chest, shouted "All clear" and pumped several hundred volts into it. It's up and walking, even cracking some quite good jokes, but you'll have to wait and see how long the recovery will last.