The Unspoken Weight of Family: Why Martin Clunes' Return to 'Best Medicine' Matters
There’s something deeply compelling about the return of Martin Clunes to Best Medicine for Season 2. Personally, I think it’s not just about the nostalgia of seeing Clunes reprise a role that feels so intrinsically tied to his career (after all, Doc Martin was a cultural phenomenon). What makes this particularly fascinating is the way the show is using his character, Robert Best, to explore the unspoken weight of family history. When Clunes guest-starred in Season 1, the tension between Robert and his son, Dr. Martin Best, was palpable—especially when the topic of Rosemary, Martin’s late sister, came up. Robert’s refusal to discuss her wasn’t just a plot point; it was a window into the complex dynamics of grief, guilt, and avoidance that so many families navigate.
The Uncomfortable Evening That Could Change Everything
Showrunner Liz Tuccillo hints that Robert’s return will involve an ‘uncomfortable evening’ with the townspeople of Port Wenn. From my perspective, this setup is brilliant. It’s not just about the humor of small-town antics; it’s about forcing Robert into a situation where he can’t escape his own vulnerabilities. One thing that immediately stands out is how the show is using external chaos to mirror internal turmoil. Robert’s ‘off-balance’ state isn’t just a character quirk—it’s a metaphor for the way unresolved pain can destabilize us, even when we think we’ve buried it.
What many people don’t realize is how rare it is for a dramedy to tackle grief with such nuance. Most shows either gloss over it or turn it into melodrama. Best Medicine seems to be striking a balance, and that’s what makes it so intriguing. If you take a step back and think about it, the show is essentially asking: What happens when the past refuses to stay buried? And how do we confront it without losing ourselves in the process?
The Father-Son Dynamic: A Road Trip of the Soul
Josh Charles, who plays Dr. Martin Best, has expressed a desire for a road trip episode—a scenario that would force father and son to confront each other in close quarters. In my opinion, this idea is genius. There’s something universally relatable about being trapped with someone you love but struggle to understand. What this really suggests is that the show understands the power of physical proximity to catalyze emotional breakthroughs.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the show is framing this relationship as a journey—not just physically, but emotionally. Both Robert and Martin are carrying the weight of Rosemary’s death, but they’re doing it in different ways. Robert’s silence is a form of self-protection, while Martin’s insistence on talking about her is a cry for connection. This raises a deeper question: Can two people with such different coping mechanisms ever truly bridge the gap between them?
Sarah’s Grudge: The Comic Relief That Isn’t
Executive producer Rodney Ferrell mentions that Sarah, Robert’s sister (played by Annie Potts), will be ‘less forgiving’ this season. Personally, I think this is where the show’s comedic genius shines. Sarah’s grudge isn’t just a source of humor; it’s a reminder that grief doesn’t affect everyone equally. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the show is using comedy to highlight the uneven terrain of loss.
From my perspective, Sarah’s character serves as a counterpoint to Robert’s stoicism. While he’s busy building walls, she’s tearing them down—albeit in a way that’s more destructive than constructive. This dynamic isn’t just funny; it’s a commentary on how families often handle pain in opposite but equally damaging ways.
The Broader Implications: Why This Matters Beyond the Screen
If you take a step back and think about it, Best Medicine is doing something far more significant than just telling a story about a father and son. It’s exploring the universal human experience of loss and the ways we try to cope with it. What many people don’t realize is how rare it is for a show to tackle these themes without resorting to clichés or easy resolutions.
In my opinion, this is what makes Best Medicine stand out. It’s not just a dramedy; it’s a mirror held up to our own lives. The show is asking us to consider the unspoken tensions in our own families, the conversations we avoid, and the pain we carry. What this really suggests is that healing isn’t a linear process—it’s messy, uncomfortable, and often hilarious in its awkwardness.
Final Thoughts: A Show That Dares to Go Deeper
As we await the premiere of Season 2 on September 22, I can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. Personally, I think Best Medicine is poised to become more than just a show; it’s a conversation starter. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it’s managing to balance humor with heart, all while exploring themes that so many of us can relate to.
One thing that immediately stands out is the show’s willingness to go deeper. It’s not content to stay on the surface; it’s diving into the murky waters of family dynamics, grief, and forgiveness. From my perspective, this is what great television should do—challenge us, move us, and maybe even inspire us to have those difficult conversations we’ve been putting off.
So, as Martin Clunes returns to Port Wenn, I’m not just excited for the laughs or the drama. I’m excited for the opportunity to see a show that dares to ask: What happens when we finally decide to talk about the things we’ve been avoiding? And that, in my opinion, is the best medicine of all.
