Doctor Foster: Don’t watch this show…

With your missus… don’t make the same mistake I did. Let me be clear: I, a married father of two, am a faithful black man. My wife knows this, but as we sat down to watch this much publicised television show, Doctor Foster, I saw the seed of doubt slowly start to grow in my missus’ brain. As soon as the beautiful brunette Suranne Jones’ Doctor Gemma Foster  found that strand of blonde hair, I knew I was in trouble.

Fair warning: Doctor Foster is about a normal GP, with a son and a property developer husband, who suspects that said husband is creeping around.

Nothing about this show is pleasant. Nothing about this show is enjoyable. Nothing about this show is new or ground-breaking – I have seen and read this story before from different perspectives. The one word I would use to describe this television programme is intense. From the moment I mentioned earlier, when the good Doctor finds a stand of hair that wasn’t hers on her husband’s scarf, this show becomes suffocatingly intense and doesn’t let up at all.

Then the stares from the missus start to materialise, then the little jokes that are not jokes get sounded out… then questions about female friends… then suddenly she wants to use your phone to check some undefined ‘thing’. Do I ask what that ‘thing’ is or does asking make me look guilty?

I am a bloody faithful man!

Just because I didn’t enjoy Doctor Foster doesn’t mean it isn’t a great show – my wife loved it. I do think there is something special about the way it executes a well worn and told story. The acting particularly from Jones and Bertie Carvel (god I love that name) is exemplary. Their relationship felt totally real and that is vitally important to the whole show.

But if you are a male human being who happens to have a female partner… watch it by yourself. I don’t care how strong you believe your relationship is, watch this show by your damn self. You will thank me later.



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