‘Embarrassing Bodies’ on Netflix Will Remind You Of ‘Antiques Roadshow’ (But With More Injured Penises)

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Embarrassing Bodies

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Sometimes, the toughest part of dealing with a medical issue can simply be asking the question.

That’s not to say there aren’t often other obstacles, of course — lack of medical insurance or other cost-related barriers to care, lack of providers in rural areas, illnesses that defy treatment  — but there’s a distinct subset of malady where the biggest thing standing in the way a cure might just be saying the problem out loud.

That’s the focus of Embarrassing Bodies, a perversely engrossing medical reality show that’s run on Britain’s Channel 4 for eight seasons, three of which have recently been made available on Netflix. It’s not for the squeamish or shy  — within the first five minutes of the very first episode, the tone is set as we find ourselves face-to-face with a concerned patient’s exposed posterior  — but it addresses the problems presented it with respect, patience and tact.

The format is simple: the show’s three resident medical doctors — Dawn Harper, Christian Jessen, and Pixie McKenna — pick a public location and set up shop. They post signs and pass out flyers, encouraging passers-by to drop into their mobile clinic trailer and discuss any medical issues they’ve been avoiding. It’s like Antiques Roadshow, except with more injured penises.

Now, you might think that people reluctant to deal with a medical issue — especially ones of an embarrassing nature — would be even more reluctant to discuss them with strangers and a camera crew. If you’re ashamed of something on your body, who’s going to air that in front of a national television audience? Surprisingly, and essentially for the show’s success, this appears to not be the way people think. Perhaps reluctance to discuss an issue face-to-face with a familiar general practitioner — but willingness to do so with a television show — is akin to spilling your problems to the person sitting next to you in a bar; there’s just some things that are easier to say to a stranger.

For the people who do take this jump, it can be the critical first step in a long-overdue healing process. We meet people who’ve suffered far longer than they need to, for a variety of reasons. One woman, misdiagnosed for years while dealing with a rare skin condition that’s left her legs cracked and bleeding, finds almost-immediate improvement after meeting the doctors. They prescribe a simple regimen of medicated cream, kept in place by wrapping cellophane around the affected areas. When she returns for a follow-up visit just weeks later, the turnaround is stunning, and she’s beaming. Another subject — a man with severe acne across the back of his scalp — is in such pain that he can barely sleep at night. He expects that he’ll need skin grafts to resolve the agonizing and unsightly problem. Instead, the doctors connect him with a specialist who’s able to treat it impressively well with far-less invasive methods. A woman who’s hidden her body for years because of persistent severe psoriasis finds a sudden reversal thanks to ultraviolet light treatment. (Admittedly, the existence of Britain’s National Health Service means that cost is usually not a factor in accessing this care.)

For others, it may not even be significant medical intervention that’s required. It might simply be much-needed reassurance that they’re not alone. Three of the first four episodes in the first season are titled “Breasts,” “Vaginas,” and “Men,” and a common refrain throughout each of these themed explorations is “oh, that’s not so bad, that’s quite normal, actually.” The taboo of discussing issues related to sexual organs has kept people mired in shame and self-doubt for years, when the simple encouragement of a doctor who’s seen it all was what they really needed.

The show’s approach to filming makes evident its commitment to eroding the social norms that can serve as barriers to care. You don’t destigmatize issues by treating them at arm’s length, and Embarrassing Bodies zooms in close. Nothing is blurred, nothing is shot from a clever angle. Everything is shown, just as a doctor in a private office would see it. When we’re talking about a collapsed breast or a scaled-over scrotum, we’re not watching a coy computer animation, or Dr. Oz playing with an inflatable replica. We’re seeing the real deal, up-close and in high-definition.

There’s a temptation to view a show like this as if you’re rubbernecking at a car accident, with a “well, I’m glad that’s not me” disconnect. There’s a real value to what they’re doing here, though. It’s not just a service to the people on screen, it’s to the people on the other side, the people sitting at home watching. Is there something you’ve been avoiding dealing with? Something you’ve been suffering through, hoping it go away on its own? A problem you haven’t wanted to discuss with a doctor because it’s too embarrassing?

Remember, they’ve seen it all – and now, so have you.

Scott Hines is an architect, blogger and internet user who lives in Louisville, Kentucky with his wife, two young children, and a small, loud dog.

Stream Embarrassing Bodies on Netflix