Nip/Tuck


By Barry Garron

Despite the cute title, this series about midlife changes, particularly as they relate to the 40-year-old partners of a Miami plastic surgery practice, is anything but flip. Like the operations they perform, it can be graphic, startling, complicated and disturbing.

With its two previous original series, "The Shield" and "Lucky," FX signaled to viewers that it is the place to expect the unexpected. In that regard, "Nip/Tuck" does not disappoint. Whether it's the depictions of simulated sex, terrorism by Botox injection or sharp dialogue on the mercenary proclivities of cosmetic surgeons, the 90-minute pilot episode is filled with unforgettable scenes.

Dylan Walsh plays Dr. Sean McNamara, a well-intentioned and extremely competent plastic surgeon whose life has been on automatic pilot for years. As a result, his relationships with his wife, Julia (Joely Richardson), his son, Matt (John Hensley), his patients and his old friend and longtime partner, Dr. Christian Troy (Julian McMahon), are largely superficial.

That's just fine with Troy, a womanizer and a sometimes slipshod practitioner with fewer ethics than a telemarketer closing in on a bonus. In the opener, Troy agrees, for an outsized fee, to perform extensive plastic surgery on a man he suspects to be on the lam. It turns out this patient is more dangerous than even Troy suspects.

Meanwhile, McNamara is watching his world collapse. He can't even find fulfillment in his professional life, a practice built on preying on the emotional vulnerabilities of the well-heeled as it rejects the more deserving but less solvent. This dark look at the world of plastic surgery strips away any and all glamour.

The premiere is filled with stellar performances, starting with Walsh as the perplexed and vaguely discontented McNamara, who, when he finally sees the light, is practically blinded by it. Equally strong is the work of McMahon as the oily Troy, for whom medicine is merely the means to a materialistic and hedonistic end. Richardson is similarly excellent as an apex of what becomes an oddly contorted love triangle.

As director, creator/exec producer/writer Ryan Murphy captures the slick and sometimes cruel world of the protagonists. His operating room scenes may discomfort the squeamish, but it's all part of a successful effort to keep it real. The cost for such honesty, however, may be female viewers whose interest in the topic of enhanced images might not be sufficient to overcome off-putting scenes of violence.

Design elements are strong and well-considered thanks to production designer Chuck Parker, set decorator Tommy Roysden and the rest of the production crew.

Not everything in Murphy's script is as logical as it is compelling -- and it can take a good half-hour to warm up to these characters -- but there's more than enough to suggest that return visits to this medical practice will be beneficial.