Save Us, Dr. Robby!

By Episode 10 of The Pitt, Dr. “Robby” Robinavitch has already completed a triathlon’s worth of herculean medical feats. Throughout this 15-hour double shift— as the new Max series follows the staff of a fictional Pittsburgh emergency room in real-ish time — the chief attending physician handles the gamut of emergencies, including multiple fentanyl overdoses, a birth gone sideways, more intubations than one can count, and a patient who inadvertently lets loose a pack of rats onto the hospital floor, with grizzled grace.

The beleaguered, salt-and-pepper-bearded doctor is played by Noah Wyle — formerly of ER — with a level of leading-man gravitas that, with apologies to the Dr. Mcs of the genre (both Steamy and Dreamy), has never before walked the florescent-lit halls of the medical drama. In other words, the bedside manner is so off the charts that viewers say they “spend 90% of The Pitt stressed out and crying and the other 10% having lurid fantasies about being Dr. Robby’s stress toy.”

Over the course of the 15-episode season, we also learn Dr. Robby has the patience of a saint (ordering an undue number of tests to give grieving parents more time to process that their son is gone, bureaucratic overlords be damned), is a staunch defender of reproductive freedom (going toe-to-toe with a pro-lifer trying to stop her teenage daughter from having an abortion), and is a bit of a lover boy (yes, we see the way you’re looking at Dr. Collins). It all adds up to a disarming smolder — an effect that is wrapped up in the competence we crave and amplified in its potency because it is earned. Symbolic of the many miles this man has walked in his signature hoodie-and-stethascope combo, those ample crow’s feet and crater-like undereye bags quickly become a turn-on. (Especially when he’s wearing those slutty little horn-rimmed glasses.)

But it isn’t until Hour 10, somewhere between overseeing a teenager’s canthotomy and helping treat a father-to-be victim of a gas-tank explosion, that Robby commits the act that I believe truly makes him worthy of the recent onslaught of adoring X declarations like “Let that sexy old man have a moment of PEACE!!!” (Or as Hung Up’s Hunter Harris tweets, “I would be his peace.”)

In a one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind type of moment, Robby openly and willingly admits he was wrong. “This is a teaching hospital and teachers can still learn stuff,” he tells befringed second-year resident Dr. McKay, after she goes behind his back by calling the cops on a patient’s son who had threatened to commit violence against women. “I saw a sad, confused boy, and that’s all I thought about. I did not think enough about those girls,” he concludes, all raised eyebrows and lined forehead.

I want to be gentle-parented by Dr. Robby for 15 more seasons.

The acknowledgment leaves McKay stunned. Not because Robby hadn’t absolutely, unequivocally mishandled the situation. (This was one instance in which — because he is achingly human — his empathy made him infuriatingly shortsighted.) But because — in a country that is increasingly being led by defensive and confused man-children — beholding a male leader as he demonstrates both benevolence and unapologetic fallibility is just that: stunning. So much so that I find myself not just wanting Dr. Robby to save me; I want him to save… democracy.

I’m not the only one. Take Rachel*, a real-life emergency room physician, who believes Robby “probably looks better in his hoodie and scrubs than most men would in a tuxedo.” It’s his measured, grounded leadership style that truly gets her hot and bothered. “He’s not afraid to tell the residents when they’re wrong, but he also owns up when he’s the one at fault,” she tells me. “I love how he clearly respects everyone there, from the maintenance people to the social workers to other attending doctors. Not an ounce of ego in him!” Writer Sophie Vershbow echoed this allure. “In a world that feels increasingly chaotic by the hour, even when you don't work in an ER, it's comforting to watch a skillful and empathetic person do their job well,” she says. Whereas Deez Links’ Delia Cai DMs me a much more emphatic explanation of his appeal: “THE COMPETENCE!!! THE EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE!!!”

Luckily for fans, the man beneath the scrubs appears to be almost as knee-weakening as his television alter ego. While he’s spent his career playing physicians — before The Pitt, he starred as Dr. John Carter on ER from 1994 to 2009 — Wyle’s respect for the work of first responders runs much deeper: This is a man whose mother worked as an orthopedic head nurse and who’s been outspoken about his support for a national health care plan. In 2012, he was arrested at a Capitol Hill protest against Medicaid cuts. It’s all part of what he brings to The Pitt, where he also serves as an executive producer and writer.

Wyle’s return to the emergency room is leading fans to proclaim, “Didn’t know how much I needed to see Noah Wyle giving off hot doctor energy on my TV again… I think we might make it after all, guys?” But scalpel and same old mischievous smile aside, Robby is decidedly not Carter. Where the latter was a cocky, overeager med student, Robby is every bit the unflappable master. He’s the port in the storm, or as I’ve come to see it, the human embodiment of the phrase “daddy’s home.”

“I want to be gentle-parented by Dr. Robby for 15 more seasons,” agrees The Education of Kia Greer author Alanna Bennett. Cue “Father Figure.”

* Pseudonyms have been given where requested.