Comfort TV doesn’t get any cozier than ‘Virgin River’
Now in its third season on Netflix, “Virgin River” is one of the streaming service’s most popular series.
The drama about a grieving nurse practitioner’s do-over life in a small Northern California town was recently renewed for a fourth and fifth installment, and if you have been wondering what this Hallmark Channel-esque show is doing lurking in your queue, it’s time to stop asking and start watching.
Based on the romance novel series by Robyn Carr (21 books and counting), “Virgin River” stars Alexandra Breckenridge as Melinda “Mel” Monroe, a nurse practitioner and midwife who flees the big city and her bad memories to work with a smalltown doctor (Tim Matheson) in the picturesque hamlet of Virgin River.
Is Doc Mullins a curmudgeon who doesn’t want Mel’s help? Of course he is. Does a convenient medical emergency give Mel the chance to prove herself worthy of his time and office space? It does. Is her life made both better and more complicated by the presence of Jack, a handsome, sensitive man with a few demons of his own? Do you need to ask?
From the swoony seesaw of Mel and Jack’s relationship to the gaggle of endearingly eccentric townsfolk who are always up for good deeds and hot gossip, this is not a show that is going to dazzle you with plot twists and character revelations. The beauty of “Virgin River” is its ability to tell its mostly predictable stories with such loving care and Hollywood expertise that you will happily surrender to its cozy embrace.
Jack, the dimpled, be-stubbled former Marine, becomes
Mel’s love interest the minute she steps into his homey bar. Like Mel, Jack came to Virgin River for a fresh start. He is haunted by a botched mission in Afghanistan, and he immediately recognizes Mel as a fellow trauma survivor in need of strong coffee and chivalrous support. Sparks fly almost immediately, but the show manages to keep the relationship at a steady simmer for an astoundingly long time.
Given the chemistry between Breckenridge and Henderson, this is no small feat. For the most part, the roadblocks to romance rise organically from pretty believable life situations, which is just one of the ways in which “Virgin River” is better, and deeper, than its throwback vibe would lead you to believe.
Take Mel, for starters. As shaped by author Carr and series creator Sue Tenney (“7th Heaven”) and portrayed by the empathetic Breckenridge, Mel is a woman who is good at her job, cool under pressure and not an emotional train-wreck, despite her many losses. Yes, she is beautiful. And yes, her hair is amazing. But she is also intelligent, principled and recognizably human.
In a welcome development for a show that seems so safe and soapy, much of Mel’s heartbreak is rooted in the very real problem of infertility. Mel’s past struggles to get pregnant, along with other characters’ childbirth challenges, are treated with real sensitivity.
Even as it’s keeping audiences happily invested with love-triangle cliffhangers, pot-farmer drama and coffee-klatch comedy featuring the town’s meddlesome mayor (Annette O’Toole), “Virgin River” also deals with domestic violence, postpartum depression and PTSD.
Some of the issues are handled more deftly than others, and with just one nonwhite major character (Colin Lawrence’s Preacher), it has a ways to go on the diversity front. But the show does an admirable job giving audiences a little emotional fiber with their fairy-tale glitter.
With glorious scenery provided by Canada and a soundtrack that feels like every WB Network drama you forgot you loved, “Virgin River” is very sweet, slightly spicy and totally addictive. It also has 30 episodes to savor, with more on the way.