#my pittposts

[sturstead]

the pitt ooc spoilers

[sturstead]

you never get used to it

[sturstead]

this frame puts both of their self destructive tendencies side by side…dana with her cigarette and robby with his motorcycle…both of them the “old”, worn out veterans of the day shift, mentoring the younger ones and trying to shield them from the same mistakes so they don’t end up like them…

[sturstead]

tried to remember why the many instances of robby’s self soothing looked so familiar and then i realized. bentoncarter always at the scene of the crime.

[sturstead]

i can’t stop thinking about this frame and how every single detail about it perfectly captures dana and robby’s relationship and their emotional states at this moment in the show. it’s doing a lot more than just showing an argument between them.

they’re split to opposite sides of the shot, which is obvious, but what matters more is how they’re separated. instead of the usual empty space in a two person shot, there’s the motorcycle between them in the foreground. a heavy, solid barrier taking all the attention. the bike is not merely a physical barrier between the two: the headlight is pointed straight at robby, and it almost reads like an interrogation light, or something exposing him and his self destructive tendencies, while at the same time the rest of the bike blocks him from view. he’s both hidden and targeted at once.

and that matters a lot knowing what the bike means for him. all season he’s been talking about going on a bike trip, and obviously at this point we know his “sabbatical” is just a cover for suicide. it’s his way out, his emotional baggage, his method of self destruction, and it’s also the thing keeping dana from reaching him. which makes it feel like the thing keeping them apart is his life, and that he’s the one setting that barrier between them.

visually, robby is the one who looks like he’s already losing that fight. he’s pushed to the edge of the frame, sitting low in the corner, his face drained and defeated. around him, the foreground is cluttered with pieces of the bike, cutting across him and blocking a clear view, so you don’t fully get to see him. that obstruction turns into something more deliberate the longer you look at it. the mirror from a different bike above him and the body of his bike create a closed shape around him, like he’s wedged in place with no clear way out, almost crushed by it. the only “opening” in that visual cage directs his line of sight straight to dana

dana, on the other hand, is standing. she has verticality, some presence, but it doesn’t actually give her control. her face is partially obscured too—her hair covering her eyes means we can’t fully read her, and robby can’t (or doesn’t want to) either. whatever she’s feeling, whether it’s anger, fear, or guilt after what just happened, is blocked off (from him. we as the audience know exactly how she’s feeling). she’s physically more “open” in the space, but emotionally just as inaccessible (to him) at this moment. she’s seeking support that he just can’t provide.

at the same time, dana has her own version of robby’s motorcycle. you can’t see it in this frame, but she’s holding a cigarette. she’s trying to quit, and all shift long we’ve seen her contemplating lighting that cig. so both of them are carrying their self-destructive tendencies into this moment.

but ! it’s important to note that neither of them has actually crossed that line yet. the cigarette isn’t lit and the bike isn’t moving. they’re both standing on the edge, almost falling. that’s what makes the stillness of the frame feel so tense. everything in it suggests movement (a motorcycle, an emergency zone, a “no stopping” sign that i will get to in a sec), but nothing is actually physically happening. all of it could tip over into something irreversible, whether it’s dana’s smoking relapse or robby’s suicide.

and now to the “NO STOPPING” sign in the background between them: it’s almost too on the nose, but it works because neither of them can actually stop. dana just crossed a line with the patient after being on edge all day long (and nearly punching a different patient), and robby is planning to die after the shift. all that while the ED is still flooded with people so they can’t stay outside for too long. there is no moment to process or a way out of the momentum they’re both in.

and “no stopping” is the rule at the ER, not a suggestion. that’s how it functions for them. you don’t get to break down, or sit with what just happened. cassie for example just lost a patient and immediately had to move to the next one. mel had a shitty deposition and couldn’t even process what happened before getting all her patients back. you keep going no matter what. that’s why robby can’t forgive himself for breaking down during pittfest, why he lashed out at mohan’s panic attack, why dana gave mel exactly one minute to be upset and said “pity party’s over”. and for robby, that rule has turned inward. “no stopping” feels like the way his mind is working now—once the idea is there, he can’t stop it. whether or not he should kill himselc is something already decided and in motion, and he’s just following through. there’s no question here.

so the sign ends up doing two things at once: it reinforces the external pressure of the ER (keep moving no matter what) and it exposes how neither of them actually has the ability to step outside of that system, even when stopping might be the only thing that could save them

and underneath all of this is the fact that neither of them really exists outside of this place. the er is the only environment that makes sense to them, it’s not just place of work. dana has been coming back to it over and over since she was a teenager, she returned after being physically assaulted there, and she keeps choosing it even when it takes something from her. robby is even more tied to this place. he doesn’t see a version of himself that has value outside of the ER, which is why he’s lingering, why he can’t just leave. the moment he steps out of that space, in his mind, there’s nothing left. so even though the ER has damaged both of them, physically and emotionally, it’s also the only thing holding them together. they’re stuck in it in the same way they feel stuck in this frame.

so you end up with this contradiction: every major static object in the frame suggests movement and forward motion, but both of them, the living breathing humans are completely stuck and they don’t know how not to be. the same place that’s breaking them is also the only place that gives them shape and a reason to keep going. take that away and there’s nothing underneath it, at least not that either of them knows how to reach. so they stay even though this type of living is not healthy, or even sustainable. it’s damaging them both physically and emotionally, but it’s the only version of living they recognize.

[sturstead]

i rewatched carter's intervention and i can’t stop thinking about how much work the blocking is doing, so here’s a very brief summary of some of my favorite details.

first: benton

the second carter walks into the room, the camera cuts to benton. he's probably the most important person in the room to him, the one he respects and loves likes the most, and he's almost completely removed from the confrontation. he's standing on the other side of the room, out of scrubs, head down. he barely even looks at carter, and i don’t think he says a single word until they’re alone. everyone else is participating in the intervention, but benton really doesn’t need to say anything, because his mere presence is enough for carter.

this very short silent exchange is so amazing, you can feel how betrayed carter feels:

then, as the intervention goes on, he gets up and starts looking more directly at carter and becomes harder to ignore. i don't know if "denial" is exactly the right word, but there's a shift. at the beginning he seems unwilling to engage with what everyone is there to say, and by the end he's forced to confront it along with everyone else. notice how he goes from trying to stay low and far away to fully getting higher, bigger, and eventually running after carter. obviously his words and his physical presence ended up making the most impact. there’s something so fucking devastating to me about seeing your mentee that you love and care for so much, who almost died in your arms, in a situation like this. the choice to keep him silent and distance until they’re outside is brilliant imo

kerry:

she spends the entire scene by the door. every time carter tries to leave, she's the person who stops him. what stands out to me is how little force is actually involved. and objectively, if carter had really wanted to leave, he could have. he is bigger than her, stronger than her, and kerry is physically the smallest person in that room. he probably would’ve knocked out anyone else guarding the door (just two mins later he punches benton). but she’s somebody that he likes and respects (and fears) enough to not make it physical. she opened her door to him one year ago and now she’s keeping another door closed to help him.

after carter storms out, kerry turns toward the door and away from the room. it's a tiny blink and you’ll miss it moment, but i've always noticed how she doesn't want anyone to see her face. maybe i'm reading too much into it, but just like in the stabbing, she once again seems much more affected than she's willing to show in front of everyone else. she spends the whole scene holding her ground, even raising her voice at carter, and the second he’s gone she turns away.

carter:

and then there's carter himself. the scene keeps literally backing him into dark corners, so whenever he moves, he's running into another obstacle. when you watch carefully, you’ll notice that in almost every shot in this scene you’ll see the edge of someone’s head or shoulder or arm, all meant to make it feel like he’s trapped.

later, when he turns on jing-mei, he immediately starts using his height and physical presence. he gets into her space and tries to intimidate her, and he’s so desperate that something she did six years ago is the only leverage he has against her. god knows how many mistakes he made while she was away

and again, after kerry asks him about his wrists, instead of moving her out of the way, he walks to the other side of the room through all his mentors, all the people who care about him, who’ve been there from him since day one, and storms out.

so yeah i just love how carefully staged this whole scene is. each character has a very specific job in every frame, and you can learn a lot about their relationships just by watching where they're standing, their body language, everything. 10/10 scene.

[sturstead]

there’s so much to unpack in robby’s “i don’t have a mom, she left” line. it reframes so many of his reactions this season, both the obvious and the more subtle ones:

his “mommy issues” outburst at samira and the half assed apology

the tender “someone must have been a bad way to walk away from you, little one” to baby jane doe

his reaction to dana when she said “our kids mess up sometimes” after he said he doesn’t want to deal with the liability of langdon in the ED.

the way he ensures dr. shamsi sees that javadi belongs in the ED—both directly, by letting javadi demonstrate her skill in front of her, and indirectly, by making her perform a procedure with the chief of neurosurgery, a friend of shamsi, who will definitely praise javadi

and i think there’s also something to be said about the little boy’s mother who nearly walked into traffic. robby obviously identifies with her because of his own suicidal thoughts (the camera focusing on him when al hashimi asks “have you every thought about harming yourself?”), but also with the child she nearly abandoned. he was in distress, and it’s implied (but not outright stated) that he might have been neglected by her. and then she almost “left” him for good, right when he needed her most.

i think it all feeds into different aspects of robby’s own trauma: samira’s “overbearing” mom comes in direct contrast to robby’s nonexistent mother, highlighting what he never had. the suicidal mother represents how he was left alone, abandoned at his most vulnerable. langdon embodies his guilt and fear that he somehow caused his mother to leave, which directly connects to javadi’s efforts to prove herself to shamsi, since robby sees her striving for validation the way he subconsciously longs for it from his mother. baby jane doe represents his protective instincts, a child he cannot abandon the way he was abandoned.

and of course, all of these stories have their own meaning and weight outside of robby’s experience. my observations about how they reflect aspects of robby’s trauma aren’t meant to reduce or overshadow their significance, they are compelling and complete in their own right

[sturstead]

a small detail that i love in dana and robby’s exchange is how hurt dana looked for a second when robby said “yeah, you” and she thought he was questioning her abilities as a nurse, and then immediately rolled her eyes and shrugged it away when she realized it was about the versed