Married to Medicine’s tenth season concludes with an episode that at once highlights the wrong turns the show has made and reminds us of its potential with memories of what once was. Like most of Bravo’s shows, M2M is facing a crossroads while the network treads unexplored territory as its oeuvre of work adapts to the age of the chronically online. Recently, I’ve been pondering ways Bravo can resuscitate its legacy. I believe the best way is to focus on casting, moving away from casting individuals and returning to casting groups of already-established (or at least vaguely connected) friends. Married to Medicine is an exemplar of the magic that occurs when a reality show is centered around organic relationships — but what happens when even these organic relationships fall victim to the venom that arises when your reality is permanently skewed by a decade of being followed by cameras?
The season started on a promising note, following the women as they celebrated the triumphant milestone of ten years on television. Yes, the cast was fractured at the beginning, stewing on feuds of seasons past, but that’s the nature of reality shows and what makes them compelling — we want to see how these people navigate conflict. And though it’s not scripted, reality television follows the same tenants of any type of storytelling. All good seasons of reality TV follow established story structures; the ones that are likely to be looked at as flop seasons tend to divert from completing all stages of storytelling.
For years, the women and producers of Married to Medicine were able to tell compelling stories, but now, with the cast operating with the ego of tenured reality stars, the politics of filming and the desire to “create” moments rather than letting them unfold naturally have gotten in the way of a cohesive season. Instead of seeing how this friend group with such a long history navigates Quad’s attitude, the addition of Gregory’s new wife, and their growth as a whole, we have women who would prefer to ice someone out than find a resolution, similar to what’s happening in Potomac. Quad’s resurrection could have been a great inciting incident, with her exile in Napa serving as the climax. However, we never got any falling action or an actual ending resolution because no one would film with her until tonight’s finale. Tea’s introduction could have been another inciting moment (it was for a millisecond), with her wedding as the climax. But again, there was no falling action because once the shock factor wore off, they mostly ignored Tea’s existence, and by default, she never really had to interact with Quad. Without all the stages of storytelling, especially without resolution (sweeping things under the rug or not talking to someone doesn’t count), we’re left at the finale feeling as if not much really happened.
Like I said in past recaps, and as I alluded to earlier, what would have made this season more successful would have been handling the apparent conflicts happening within the cast head-on. Losing Quad and the subsequent battle to prove she wasn’t entertaining prevented this from happening; the women’s egos have grown to the point where they believe they can carry the show on their own, but as the flashbacks in this episode prove, they’ve iced out so many key players that something feels missing. The last night in Hilton Head honors the show’s tenth anniversary with an aluminum-themed dinner where they discuss their marriages (Kema and Alicia need to stop sharing, seriously. The story about him expecting her to cook on her swollen ankles was too much) and their history as a group. As everyone reminisces on past couple’s trips, the absence of Mariah and Quad — and, to a certain extent, Contessa — made the memories seem incomplete and distorted, almost as if experiencing the Mandela Effect. How can we celebrate ten years of this show when the people responsible for the most memorable storylines are treated as if they didn’t exist? And it’s not as if the new editions or the remaining women are providing sufficient content in their place.
Once the group returns to Atlanta, the ladies get busy planning their inaugural Med Gala. Inspired by the Met Gala, the women created this networking event to showcase the Atlanta medical community. Everyone on the cast is involved in planning, and as a group, they decide that each woman would contribute money as well as their time and energy. The dollar amount they would be responsible for would be based on how much advertising space they request. Toya and Eugene are the only people who have a problem with whatever understanding the cast made regarding paying for the event; in their eyes, Toya’s wine donation should be sufficient, and they shouldn’t have to provide any additional cash. The logic is flawed because (1) contrary to what Toya says, it’s just not being a team player, (2) Toya providing wine from the company she’s partnered with is a form of self-advertising, and (3) they’re asking for less than what I pay in rent for my little studio apartment. When venting to Simone and Cecil, Eugene pulls up the calculator on his phone as if the IRS is still knocking at their door (maybe they are?), but the Whitmores are nonplussed by Harris’s refusal to pay.
Heavenly, Phaedra, and Jackie meet to tie up the loose ends for the gala, and Heavenly is the most offended by Toya. They come to the conclusion that without a donation, they would omit Toya’s logos from the step and repeat. So what does Toya do? Set up her own step and repeat at the gala while passing out glasses of her wine, triggering Heavenly even more. If running around the party telling guests how tacky Toya is wasn’t enough, Heavenly makes an announcement over the microphone during the toast, giving us a little bit of drama to hold us over until the reunion. After Toya loudly corrects Heavenly for referring to Jackie as Doctor but not extending Simone that same courtesy, Heavenly snaps. She tells the room that Toya didn’t pay, and a loud gasp ripples through the crowd. Heavenly’s outburst was just as tacky as Toya’s actions, but what else can we expect?
There’s no serious confrontation other than Toya yelling back in the third person, saying, “She gave cases of wine!” and Eugene telling Damon what happened is not cool. Toya is halfway out the door just as Quad slithers her way into the party. Of course, the two don’t speak, and Quad makes her rounds, hugging everyone, including Gregory and Tea. The interaction was uninteresting but not as awkward as everyone acted like it was. The Lunceford’s position on the show remains questionable; in their confessional, they claim to be moving on, which is rich because if they wanted to move on from Quad, they wouldn’t have signed up for the show, but I digress. No one can explain who invited Quad — well, I guess what I should say is that no one is willing to take the fall for production having Quad show up. She exchanges words with Simone, but things abruptly take a turn when Quad says there are conversations that need to be had. Simone chills at this notion, as she believes it’s Quad who should’ve reached out, leaving things perpetually unresolved.
The gala ends as quickly as it was brought up (this is literally the first we heard of it), with little action outside of Heavenly calling Toya out. Dr. Jackie guides us through the end of the seasons, attempting to tie things up in a bow by saying relationships are like a roller coaster and that The Fab Five, which consists of Quad, Jackie, Toya, Heavenly, and Simone, will always exist, but they have room for more friends. Overall, this wasn’t Married to Medicine’s strongest season, but there were still big laughs and lots of love along the way. Hopefully, next year, the women will find a better flow. Until then, we have a reunion to look forward to. And if you can’t wait, you can always look at Heavenly’s social media for the latest drama. (Last week, she made and quickly deleted a tweet calling Gregory a pedophile.) It’s too bad they already filmed the reunion, but there’s always next season.
Doctor’s Orders
• Why did Phaedra have a star on the red carpet that said “Dr. Phaedra”? They are forcing her place on this show, including bringing Apollo to the reunion, which no one asked for.
• Curtis being in the Dominican Republic again looks so bad. My mind jumped to last week’s Potomac, where the women had a conversation about the shenanigans men get up to in DR with prostitutes. What is going on over there? I googled “Curtis Berry job in the Dominican Republic,” and it says he’s the Director of Strategic Partnerships for the sports division of a golf resort? It’s all so strange.
• I’m not sure if there’s a tailor shortage in Atlanta or what, but Tea and Heavenly (and sometimes Simone) should consider buying their size or having their garments adjusted. The boobage spilling over is out of hand!
• The ladies trying to teach Alicia about maneuvering around her husband’s ego was another instance of them making marriage look horrible. Why must we play mind games to placate the person who is supposed to be our happy place? There are so many unspoken rules, adjustments, and tip-toeing around fragile masculinity. It seems miserable.
• Another way they could have circumvented this shaky season would’ve been to lean into the anniversary aspect by inviting old faces (Anila and Dr. G don’t count). A scene or two with Contessa, Kari Wells, Lisa Nicole, or even a surprise reconciliation with Mariah could have been great moments.