Best Medicine

We enjoyed the quirky fun of the first episode of Best Medicine, as well as the layered performances of Josh Charles and Abigail Spencer.

But if it’s not reinventing the wheel, it is building a very solid version of the wheel — one that, in the first four chapters sent to critics, strikes a winsome balance between heart and humor. Charles is excellent as Best.

Martin will doubtless have his edges sanded down over time, though hopefully later rather than sooner. For now, the contrast between Martin and his patients has a productive friction that gives Charles plenty of grouchy misanthropy to work with.

It’s a pleasant enough comedy-drama – though not as funny as one might hope — that’s true to the original while telling new stories.

There are lovable characters, strong actors, and interesting ideas at the heart of the show, but Best Medicine struggles to inject these qualities beyond its core cast of Martin, Louisa, and Elaine.

On the whole, it’s cuter, milder, more cuddly (multiple vomit jokes notwithstanding), more obvious and more whimsical, but less real, less intense and less sharply written than “Doc Martin.”

Charles and Spencer find brief moments of depth. It’s not until well into the second episode that they get an extended scene together, but they hint at what this show could be with stronger writing.

Charles is not the problem here. .... [The townspeople are] caricatures, not characters, and their antics start to feel a little debasing. “Best Medicine” certainly doesn’t deify small-town life; nor does the show condemn it. Instead, it amps up the quirk factor as high as it can go. Charles, as the straight man, looks on with dismay. So did I.