Fun
Frisky
Nostalgic
Intense
Adventurous
Choked Up
Curious
Romantic
Weird
Maybe it’s my penchant for watching shows like Little House on the Prairie and The Waltons (the latter of which I recently finished re-watching from beginning to end), or maybe it’s just the streaming algorithm gods shining down on me, but when I realized a few weeks ago that Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman‘s entire six season run was available to stream on Amazon Prime, I knew exactly what I’d be watching for the foreseeable future.
Premiering on CBS in 1993 and running until it was unceremoniously cancelled in 1998 (“There were a lot of hurt feelings with the way the series ended – you just don’t go flippantly cancelling a show like this without a goodbye season,” creator and executive producer Beth Sullivan told MediaWeek in 1999), Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman follows in the tradition of those previously mentioned period series, but breaks away from the pack in one incredibly important, and timely, way. Despite an ensemble cast and an impressive setting that’s quite a character in itself, Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman is undoubtedly a show led by a strong female character playing against type at a time when it was far less common than it is today.
Portrayed by Jane Seymour, in a role that earned her a 1996 Golden Globe Award, Dr. Michaela Quinn, having been born into a wealthy Boston family, breaks from tradition and follows in her father’s footsteps by becoming a medical doctor (earning her degree at Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania – the only medical school that would admit her).
After receiving her license, she tries to find work on her own, but the lack of respect for female doctors means that Quinn ends up working for her father, in his clinic, until his death. It’s at this point that Dr. Quinn looks elsewhere for work, answering an ad for a doctor in the Colorado territory and landing the job in Colorado Springs simply because the men in charge thought her telegram read “Michael A. Quinn” rather than “Michaela.” You can imagine how things go when she actually shows up.
Background aside, however, it’s from the show’s very first moments when we meet the titular character that Dr. Michaela Quinn establishes herself as a fierce, independent woman unwilling to sacrifice her dream of working as a doctor even in the face of her mother’s unwavering want of a yet another daughter that’s more than happy to play the traditional domestic role and settle down with a wealthy husband.
And if you, even for a moment, doubt just how fierce and how independent Dr. Quinn actually is, here are a few of the numerous ungodly things Michaela has to do in the pilot episode alone before most of the men in town will pay her any respect at all:
- Early after her arrival in town, she dares to question Army Colonel Shivington about their possible treaty with the local Cheyenne in the area, standing up for the often-oppressed tribe. She’s pushed aside when a local man catches a ricocheted bullet while out hunting, and has to resort to helping the shopkeeper’s wife with her heart erythema instead. Dr. Quinn saves a local woman and her unborn child by performing an emergency C-section (with only the tools in her tiny doctor’s bag).
- Then, in order to gain his trust, she tricks the town’s barber (and makeshift untrained, unlicensed doctor) into pulling one of her perfectly healthy teeth without any numbing agent (all just to prove how truly badass she is). Before long, he even comes calling for help with his infected hand.
- Oh, and if all that wasn’t enough, she tries valiantly to save Widow Cooper’s life after she’s been bitten by a rattlesnake, but when she’s unable to (I mean, she has zero supplies), she agrees to take in the woman’s three children (despite having no child-rearing experience). But wait, there’s more…
- She helps the postmaster with his hearing problem, examines the saloon’s prostitute, who everyone else ignores (and actually convinces the bar owner to give her a month off from her duties), and helps to soften many townsfolks’ horrible viewpoints on race, gender, and equality.
- Dr. Quinn then insists on joining the one friend she has so far (a white man named Byron Sully, who spends all of his time with the Cheyenne) in a mission to find her newly-adopted runaway son Brian. And, just when you thought that would be enough, she also stands up to the Army when they come charging toward her new Cheyenne friends, and even manages to save a Cheyenne chief’s life by performing a tracheotomy with a feather, earning her the name of “Medicine Woman.”
By the way, all of these events take place in the span of the ninety-minute pilot episode.
I know, there’s a lot of new TV out there, and a lot of it includes strong messages for females of all ages, but every once in a while, there’s a classic series that just fits so perfectly into the current day and age that it’s worth revisiting in its entirety.
Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman isn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. It sometimes falls into the same pitfalls as many similar shows of its time, but don’t let the marketing materials fool you. Just because they all show Jane Seymour flanked by her hunky co-star Joe Lando (and it’s clear from the very first episode that these two will end up together), this is Dr. Michaela Quinn’s show. Even her eventual romance with Sully always takes a backseat to the important work she’s determined to do week in and week out.
Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman is a girl power show if ever there was one and in a time when gender equality, the #MeToo and Time’s Up movements, and prominent female role models are more important than ever, Dr. Quinn has the prescription for what’s currently ailing our country. Just stream a few episodes and call me in the morning.
Scott Neumyer is a journalist who has been published by The New York Times, Rolling Stone, Wall Street Journal, Sports Illustrated, ESPN, GQ, Esquire, Wired, Men’s Fitness, and many more publications. He lives in central New Jersey with his wife, two daughters, and two cats. You can reach him at www.scottwrites.com.
