"The Nine"
Part Two of Two

By Dave Andrusko

Editor's note. This article ran on October 23, 2006. A reader recently ran across it on the Internet and said very kind words about it in an email. I am re-running it, even though the program, "The Nine," did not survive its first season, because the episode I wrote about was unbelievably powerful and because we add new TN&V readers every day.

Once it occurred to me that virtually all the television programming I watch is in re-runs, it dawned on me that maybe I ought to actually watch new shows to see if the fare they're presenting is worth watching the first time-round. That, and some intriguing advance publicity, convinced me to watch the first episode of ABC's "The Nine." (It's on Wednesday night following "Lost.")

Cast from the television program, "The Nine."

My focus today is on the episode that aired last Wednesday, titled, "What's Your Emergency?" (My apologies for not getting to it sooner.)

Our time together is not intended to be a television review, but rather to discuss how what is shown has an impact on, or says something about, what we are about. But let me say that in terms of production values, "The Nine" is the finest new program I have seen in years and years. You care passionately about the characters from the first minute of the first episode.

To make sense of last Wednesday's show, you need to know a little about how the show works. The basic premise is that "The Nine" are survivors of a bank robbery gone lethally amuck.

As USA Today described it, "To keep us focused on those characters, the Steinbergs [the brother and sister team who created "The Nine" ] launch their show with an ingenious twist. We see a large group of people gather in the bank and hear one of the robbers tell them, 'This will all be over in five minutes.' The next thing we know, 52 hours have passed, the remaining hostages are being freed and three people are dead."
Each week we see how the trauma of the standoff has changed the characters forever--some for good, some not. Each episode includes a flashback that fills in a 5-10 minute gap about what took place inside the bank during the attempted robbery. It is riveting television.

We've known from early on that Lizzie Miller (Jessica Collins) is pregnant by Jeremy Kates (Scott Wolf), a doctor who works at the same hospital she does. She is about to tell Jeremy when the robbery intervenes.
Something during the siege ["a moment"] apparently showed Jeremy at his worst. He says to Lizzie, "Does it have to mean everything?" Evidence thus far suggests, yes, it might well.

Lizzie is accompanied to the obstetrician by Assistant District Attorney Kathryn Hale (Kim Raver), who became her friend during the robbery. As Kathryn waits outside, Lizzie explains her fears in a kind of stream of consciousness.

"Now, suddenly I'm scared of things," she says. "Not even particular things. Just a general fear. The world feels violent, dangerous. … How can you bring a child into that? When you can't even….How can you do that?"

"You don't have to keep the baby, you know," responds the nurse.

Talk about a twist: A couple of scenes later, we see Lizzie calling Kathryn, frantic with worry. Kathryn is in court, arguing an important procedural motion in an important case. She can barely hear Lizzie on her cell phone.

The judge enters, but Kathryn leaves. She knows her assistant can carry on without her. Lizzie can't. This is further evidence that the workaholic Kathryn is learning that there is more to life.

"Kathryn," says a teary-voiced, scared-out-of-her-wits Lizzie, "I don't think my baby is going to be okay and I WANT it to be okay."

Calmly and with deep compassion, Kathryn reassures her, "This baby is strong. It has a strong will. It survived the 52 hours, right?"

"It did," says Lizzie.

"And you went through a lot in there and it went through a lot in there." And then with disarming humor, Kathryn tells her, "I'd say if this baby can survive this, it can certainly survive a normal day in your boring life."

The camera pans over to the ultrasound. "I see it," Lizzie suddenly says, excitement filling her voice.
"You see it? You see it?"

Just then the ultrasound technician tells Lizzie they need to find the baby's heartbeat.

As the seconds tick away and the technician is unable to find the baby's heartbeat, Lizzie begins to panic.

"They will find the heartbeat," Kathryn tells her.

"Where is it?"

"They'll find it," Kathryn repeats.

"They're not finding it."

"Lizzie, they will find it."

A moment later, Lizzie says, "I hear it."

"You hear it?"

"Oh, my God," Lizzie says slowly and in awe. "Kathryn, can you hear it, can you hear it?!"

"No," Kathryn replies quietly, her face a landscape of emotions, "no, but I, I can imagine." The scene ends with Kathryn alone with her cell phone in the lobby.

The looks on Kathryn's and Lizzie's faces are indescribable, the kind that make you appreciate great performances. Maybe everyone else anticipated what would happen a few minutes later. I missed it.
Kathryn is having dinner with her totally self-absorbed, whiny mother. As her mother rattles on, Kathryn is so quiet her mother asks if she lost in court today. No, she won an important motion in an important case.

"You see," her mother responds, raising her wineglass to her lips. "And you were worried you couldn't handle your day."

There is this moment's hesitation as Kathryn screws up her courage.

"When I was 27 years old, mom, and on this path, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't tell anyone because (she says with a nervous, self-conscious laugh) "I could handle it."

"I went to work, I excused myself for an afternoon procedure." After taking a cab back to work, "I rested for a couple of hours" (pause) "and then" (as she fights to maintain her composure) "I won my first really big case." Her voice thickening with emotion, Kathryn quickly adds, "It was a really big day for me."

Her suddenly sober and reflective mother gently asks her a question we already know the answer to: "Why are you telling me this now?" As the camera pans to fade, Kathryn wipes away the tears.

It is almost impossible to exaggerate the power of the twin messages. Surely it would have been next to impossible just a few years ago for something this morally nuanced, complex, and life affirming to have made its way onto primetime network television.

The reality of unborn life, the reality of regret over a life lost. Pretty powerful programming. The kind of program that changes hearts and minds.

If you have any comments or questions, please send them to daveandrusko@gmail.com.

Part One