The Knick (2014–2015): Season 1, Episode 1 - Method and Madness - full transcript

Are you wondering how healthy the food you are eating is? Check it - foodval.com
---
Ripped By mstoll

Johnny?

Johnny, it's seven and a half.

You said seven and a half?

The Knick. North on Mott, east on 11th.

Bowery is faster, sir.

Won't have a long wait
for the trolleys crossing...

I don't want faster. I enjoy waiting.

Mott north across Houston.

Yes, sir.

Please save my baby.



Gentlemen,

after two uneventful pregnancies,

Mrs. Warren presented in her eighth month

with what is assumed to be
a case of placenta previa.

The hope had been to delay any procedure
for the benefit of the fetus.

But circumstance has forced our hand.

Dr. Thackery and I have rehearsed
the newest techniques extensively

and feel confident
that the speed necessary for success

can finally be achieved.

Surgical knife.

One hundred seconds.

One hundred seconds.

I want the students to take note

that Dr. Christiansen is entering
on the medial line just above the pubis.



We must be careful
to extract the fetus quickly

and in such a manner
so as not to release pressure on the rupture,

thus exacerbating the hemorrhage.

As you can see,
there is significant blood in the cavity.

Vacuum, Everett.

Though it's difficult to see,

it seems the fetus has migrated

through the rupture upward
toward the abdomen.

We need to lengthen the incision
and get the baby out now.

Jules.

Nurse Monk, knife. Knife.

Bertie, cauterize.

Her pulse is weakening.

I have a leg.

- Pull the fetus down and out.
- It's trapped in the cord.

Forceps clamps, umbilical scissors.

Bertie.

Come on, Thack.

Scissors.

- You're free.
- Tube it.

More vacuum, Chickering.
Put your back into it.

Her pulse has become eccentric.

We still have time. Clamp that artery.

Invert that section, Thack.

There's the bleed.

We can still close the rupture.
Warren's needle and gut.

Dowell's needle and silk.

Good.

Her pulse is faint and fully eccentric.

She's pallid and her lips are blue.

Pedals. One, two, three.

Almost.

Almost.

Almost.

There.

The bleeding stopped.

Nothing.

It seems...

It seems we are still lacking.

I hope, if nothing else,

this has been instructive for you all.

We'll solve it.

How many more, Thack?

"And many strokes, though with a little ax,

"hew down and fell
the hardest-timbered oak."

Thus spake Thack the Wise.

Jules.

The procedure failed. You didn't.

Thank you, my friend.

Fuck it all.

Your God always wins.

It is the longest unbeaten streak
in the history of the world.

Yet J.M. Christiansen fearlessly took up arms
in that battle to oppose the inevitable,

throwing himself at an enemy
that has never known defeat

and, as sure as I'm standing here,
never will.

One could not be blamed for wondering

if J.M. came to see
his life's work as a fool's errand.

A rube

finally realizing
that the game he's been playing

will be forever rigged against him.

But my dear friend J.M. was a fine man
and certainly he was no fool or rube.

He and I spent our lives
tilting at the very same windmills.

So why have I not lost hope like he did?

Because those windmills
at which we tilted were created by men

to turn grindstones that transformed
the Earth's bounty into flour.

From such humble beginnings

grew the astonishing modern world
in which we now live.

We cannot conquer the mountains,

but our railroads now run
through them with ease.

We cannot defeat the river,

but we can bend it to our will
and dam it for our own purposes.

We now live in a time

of endless possibility.

More has been learned about the treatment
of the human body in the last five years

than was learned in the previous 500.

Twenty years ago, 39 was the number of years
a man could expect from his life.

Today, it is more than 47.

Eventually the train tunnels will crumble.

The dams will be overrun.

Our patients' hearts will
all stop their beating.

But we humans can get in a few good
licks in battle before we surrender.

Catherine.

I will not stop pushing forward
into a hopeful future.

And with every blow I land,

every extra year I give to a patient,

I will remember my fallen friend
Jules Michael Christiansen.

And know that at the very least, something,

however temporary,

has been won.

- Lovely eulogy, Dr. Thackery.
- Thank you.

If not a bit self-aggrandizing.

And another chance for him to trumpet
his personal war against God.

Good afternoon, Miss Robertson. Sister.

Mr. Barrow.

It was a lovely funeral.

As these things go.

The minister was very eloquent, Sister.

Protestants have their moments, too.

Yes.

You should come to
one of our Sunday services, Sister.

Very God-fearing.

Good day to you both.

The whole event is just completely tragic

- and quite shocking.
- Hmm.

Who would have guessed
Dr. Christiansen was so hopelessly lost?

Twelve attempts
at the same surgery

with no survivors
would drive any good man mad.

Of course.

His anguish is over,
but hers is just beginning.

Though I understand
he left her a sizable sum.

Enough to keep a widow warm at night?

And to attract the right type of suitor.

She is still a handsome woman.

Always surprised by your sensitivity.

Thank you.

How were the proceedings, Sister?

I'm guessing
they chose to go closed casket today.

Yes, Mr. Cleary, the casket was closed today.

Ah, well, the worms
will be thankful for the extra holes, though.

Saves them from having
to make them for themselves.

Ah, Sister, don’t judge me too harsh.

I'm just a poor simple sinner
in the eyes of the Lord.

The Lord loves all his children equally.

Though in your case, Mr. Cleary,

I'm sure he'll make an exception.

Ambulance.

Right.

We got one!

- Good afternoon, gentlemen.
- Good afternoon.

Miss Telfer.

My father sends his regrets
that he can't be here today,

so I'll be sitting in as his proxy.

Signed by Captain Robertson.

Perhaps we should adjourn, then,
till the Captain can be here

- and we're able to do this properly.
- Yes.

If you strongly object to my father's wishes,
Mr. Habershorn,

I will understand if you need
to make your apologies and leave.

Then let's get to the business at hand.

I'd like to welcome Dr. Thackery
to his first board meeting,

seated in place of the late Dr. Christiansen.

My condolences, Dr. Thackery.

Dr. Christiansen's untimely passing

has brought added strain
to The Knickerbocker.

Aside from the public disaster it presents,

it further hampers
our efforts at financial solidity.

As you can see, gentlemen,
in the published reports in front of you,

monthly costs have increased.

This is due in part to the recent renovations
in the men's and women's wards.

The hospital is now running at a deficit
of nearly $30,000 a year.

Now, in light of this,

I've taken the liberty of postponing
the much-needed repairs in the courtyard.

Now, Dr. Thackery, as you were
Dr. Christiansen's Deputy Chief of Surgery,

the board would like you
to step into his position as Chief.

We'd be grateful if you'd accept.

I will, though with great regret.

Which means you'll be needing a new deputy.

I'm sure we all agree that Dr. Gallinger
is the right man for the job.

I'm not sure we all agree on that.

My father and I would
like you to consider another candidate.

Based on what? Your surgical expertise?

Based on our faith in the man.

Dr. Algernon Edwards. Mr. Barrow.

He received his medical education at
Harvard College, graduating with distinction.

His training was done at Boston Hospital
and then Providence.

And he spent the past four years

working and instructing
at St. Thomas' Hospital in London

under Sir William MacCormac,
President of the Royal College of Surgeons,

and at the Institut Pasteur in France
under Albert Calmette.

He has more knowledge
of recent surgical advances in Europe

than any man in the country.

And his return to the States provides us
with a great opportunity, Thack.

Cornelia and her father have prevailed
upon him to travel to New York tomorrow,

as we assumed
you would want to meet with him.

He seems very qualified.

Then I shall arrange for
him to meet with you.

Arrange or insist?

I think you can find a few minutes
for a candidate of this caliber.

Considering all
the Robertsons have done for us,

it would be foolish not to respect
their opinion and entertain the possibility.

Far be it for me to be foolish, Herman.

I will meet the man, but my choice is firm.

It's Gallinger.

Ah!

And a good day to you, Pete.

How you doing there, fella?

Got a nice little package there for us?

You're not getting this one, Cleary.

Oh, Pete.

Can't we be reasonable?

Talk about this like gentlemen?

Now, as to my mind,
you can either give us the goods

or youse can all
travel to The Knick as patients.

Hooked a fine one.

Banker from up Fifth Avenue.
Liver problems. Jaundice.

Pissing blood, he says.

I'm sure this one will be in a private with us
for a few weeks and be paying his bill in full.

- Nice catch.
- That's two more bits for Cleary.

End of the month.

Another beautiful day
at The Knick, Nurse Elkins?

Ma'am.

Dr. Gallinger.

This is Mr. Sebastiano Gentile, 40.

On the eighth of this month he was
struck by a streetcar, fracturing his pelvis.

Mr. Gentile, don't you know
never to quarrel with a streetcar?

I've never known a man to beat one yet.

I know that now.

Next time, take on
one of those horseless carriages.

Much better odds.

Upon arrival, an extensive wound
on the lateral side of his thigh

was immediately stitched and dressed.

Pulse was 112. Abdomen was tympanitic.

And there was tenderness
below the umbilicus.

So he was taken into the operating theater,
where we found four puncture wounds

from the fractured
pelvic bone lacerating the bowel.

And with Dr. Chickering assisting,

we immediately sutured the wounds
using three catgut sutures on each puncture.

Was there any consideration of removing
the damaged section of the bowel?

The difficulty in reconnecting the two
new ends of the intestines seemed too great,

and the danger
of postoperative bowel leakage

was another complication we discussed.

And I dared not risk a resection.

Any complications thus far?

Mr. Gentile has developed
a small case of bronchitis,

which is common after such a procedure.

Very good, Doctor.

Clogs.

Which nurse changed
the dressings on this man?

I did.

Per Dr. Gallinger's instructions.

Twice in the past 24 hours.

And I emptied his drains
throughout the night.

And did you recently empty that one?

I didn't. It's tended to have
collected very little fluid.

And yet the area
where the drain exits the wound is swollen.

Perhaps you might have considered clearing
the drainage tube of clogs.

How long have you been here?

Almost three weeks.

Then you should already know, Nurse Elkins,
that the goal is to keep the patients alive,

not kill them with negligence
after a surgeon's done his best to save them.

I expect everyone to be well-versed
in their responsibilities.

I'm sorry.

No, weakness and self-pity
have no place on my ward.

If I'm asking too much of you,

you can always take
the donkey cart back to Kentucky

and continue in the fine tradition
of curing people

with moonshine and angleworm poultices.

Rest up, Mr. Gentile.

You got a lot more
trolleys to dodge in your future.

The joke's on Thackery.

He doesn't know you're from West Virginia.

Jesus, Speight.

You sure it's not you
with the fucking tuberculosis?

Watch your mouth, Cleary.

There's plenty other
stretcher boys I can call for this.

Health inspector!

Health inspector. Open the door, please!

Hmm.

Mrs. Krawetz?

We're here to take you to the hospital.
Do you understand?

Hospital.

Hospital. She has a disease.
She must be taken out of here.

Christ alive,
it's the Tower of Babel in these shitholes.

Never the same language twice.

Hospital!

My father says
he doesn't want you taking my mother.

Well, I'm Officer Sears
of the New York Police Department,

and there is a law that says we have to
take her someplace that'll make her well

so she doesn't get you sick, too.

My...

My father says they took our neighbor
and he never came back.

Oh, she'll be back and fit as a fiddle.
You watch.

No windows, no ventilation,
no sunlight inside, no running water.

A breeding ground for disease.
That's why the new laws were passed.

I can compel you to make any and all
structural changes to your property

I deem necessary to protect the public.

That will cost a fortune.

I'm a businessman.

Blame Lister's microscope and Riis' camera.

The New York City Health Department
is just doing its job.

You own, uh, two more buildings
on this block, don't you?

Perhaps we can
come to some other arrangement.

Perhaps we can.

It's the last of the six loads.

Keep your boilers cooking
for the next four months.

- Three cents a pound?
- Sounds good.

Well, that is excellent, Mr. Corker.

Here is a bank draft from The Knickerbocker
for the full amount.

Thank you for choosing Parkhurst.

Mr. Parkhurst is grateful for your business.

And I am grateful for his.

Pardon me, gentlemen.

Where might I find Dr. John Thackery?

- Down there.
- Let's go, guys.

Come on.

- Dr. Thackery?
- Yes.

I was told I could find you here.

I'm Algernon Edwards.

Would you prefer for me
to wait in your office?

No, this is fine.

May I ask what it is you're making?

It's an idea for an improvement
on an instrument.

A colleague of mine in London
was very fond of smelting as well.

In fact, the harelip forceps he modified
is now the standard in Europe.

Well, if I find myself on the continent
working on a harelip,

I will know whom to thank.

I'm beginning to think you were not told
everything about me.

You envisioned something different,
I take it. Something lighter.

I did.

And to be frank, Dr. Edwards, I only agreed to
this meeting as a courtesy to Miss Robertson.

But I am certainly not interested
in an integrated hospital staff.

My skin color shouldn't matter.

Well, if it doesn't matter, then why
was that information held back from me?

You'll have to ask Miss Robertson.

It's also nowhere to be found
on your credentials.

Is your race listed on yours?

There's no need for it to be.

I grant that your background is impressive,

and I'm sure there are many Negro infirmaries
that will benefit from your talents,

- but this hospital...
- You're here.

This is where I'd like to be.

If you would just give me a chance.

In London and in Paris, I was treated
as an equal. And I have no doubt...

This is New York. This is not London or Paris.

You can only run away and join the circus
if the circus wants you.

I don't want you in my circus.

Dr. Edwards.

How was your meeting with Dr. Thackery?

Wonderful, if you call being humiliated
in front of a 1,000-degree furnace a meeting.

What do you mean?

Thank your father for me.
I'm going to head back to Boston.

Sorry if I wasted your time.

- I certainly wasted mine.
- Dr. Edwards.

Dr. Edwards.

Algernon.

Miss Robertson.

Dr. Chickering would like to see you.

- Inspector Speight.
- Mr. Barrow.

- How are things on the streets?
- Getting worse every day.

The more boatloads they let in,
the more pestilence infects the city.

I had three cases of tuberculosis just today.

The poor are just weaker than us.

You'd imagine the mayor would want to think
about sending them immigrants elsewhere,

but he don't stop 'em.

Shipping companies see to that.

Some of these diseases, they spread so quick,

they wipe out whole blocks of people
in just a few days.

We have to burn the bodies.
We have no place to put them.

- That a new one of your kids?
- Yes.

Handsome-looking family.

Always wanted to have
one of those done of me.

And why haven't you?

Don't think I could sit still that long.
What if I had to use the toilet?

Those frames look like
they set you back a bit.

Gold leaf?

Where did you say you sent
these tuberculosis patients?

The Knick got one.

City's gonna cover the full freight cost
since I put her here.

And you want a finder's fee.

I could have easily sent her to St. Vincent's
or Presbyterian.

Next time could be none.

Or it might be all of them.

You know, I like you, Herm.
We're cut from the same cloth.

I like to think not.

It's not good.

The tuberculosis is pretty advanced.
Her lungs are completely full of fluid.

Fever of 104. Pulse is erratic.
Her fingers are clubbing.

Are you recommending a sanitarium stay?

She's already on the other side
of the hill, I'm afraid.

I honestly don't think
she'll make it through the week.

Does she know?

She doesn't speak English.

Her daughter has been interpreting for me.

I see.

Responsibility is to the patient,
but there's no rule that says we have to...

Hello.

May I ask your name?

- Yetta.
- Yetta. A beautiful name.

Yetta, my name is Miss Robertson.

I'm from the social welfare office
of the hospital.

I need your help right now
to explain something to your mother.

All right?

Please tell your mother that the doctor says
her disease has made her very sick.

She will not get better.

She will only get worse.

But the hospital will do all it can
to make her as comfortable as possible.

If there is anything she or your family needs,
we are here to help you.

Does she understand?

She understands.

I'm so sorry.

My mother wants to know what time it is.

It's 4:30.

My mother says I should go
or else I'll be late for my shift.

Keller Shirtwaist Factory on Delancey.

Be sure she gets there safely, Jesse.

Yes, ma'am.

I expected you over an hour ago.
What kept you?

Your treatment of Dr. Edwards
was indefensible.

No, it was completely defensible.
I'll tell you exactly what I told him.

I'm not interested in leading the charge
in mixing the races.

Dr. Edwards is as capable as any doctor
in this hospital.

- Likely more so.
- Perhaps.

But just as a shopkeeper
would never stock an item on his shelves

no customer would buy,

I would not employ a surgeon
no patient will agree to have operate on them.

Then patients must be convinced
of his ability.

Are you going to stand there
and honestly tell me

that the way out of our financial troubles
is to hire a Negro surgeon?

Once people learn
that he is an excellent surgeon,

they'll change their minds.

We're speaking
about a patient's possible mortality.

Is this really a fair time
to begin a social crusade?

- Yes.
- We're an institution in dire condition.

We're not an incubator for some progressive
experiment for you and your father's money.

Please, find yourself another hobby.

- Got it?
- Yeah.

Do you see what you've done?

The Robertsons are pulling their crews.

They're terminating the
electrification project.

Oh, so childish.

No, Thack, you're the child.

We need their money. We need to electrify.

I'm not hiring the Negro.

Do you think I want
that dusky coon roaming these halls?

A man of high rank on our staff
who will repel patients?

I need you happy,
but right now I need the Robertsons happier.

You know we have no choice.

The man will be hired.

Then I'll resign.

Again?

I want you to stay like that
for 20 minutes, Mrs. Eberhardt.

Nurse Connelly will keep
massaging your belly.

Trust an old midwife.

That breech baby will turn around in no time
to get away from the cold.

Is this something the doctor prescribed?

He would if he knew what he was doing.

Oh, I envy that cigarette.

Nice and slow. Nice and slow.

Ah, the poor Lord's got all these ladies
married to him and none will give him a go.

Hey.

Do penguins ever just want
to go for a good poke?

Oh, we get curious.

But then they show us
a photograph of your sorry face

and we all run right back
into the arms of God.

Your ugly mug's responsible for more girls

staying virgins than the chastity belt.

How in God's name

are you still going?

I have an insatiable desire for fame.

And, of course, um,

my old friend,

Uncle Parker.

I'd love to have your
help for this next part.

Unless, of course,
you'd rather go back to sleep.

His temperature is 105
and his pulse is rapid at 166.

He has vomited
three times in the last 90 minutes.

I figured his bronchitis was worsening,
so I summoned you.

It's not his bronchitis. It's septicemia.

The swelling of the limbs.
The discoloration has started, too.

My repair didn't hold. He's leaking
his own bowel poisons into his blood.

I should have resected.

It would have happened with any surgeon,
Thackery included.

Most of our patients
will receive their treatment here

in the men's ward.

Ah.

Allow me to introduce you
to two of your junior surgeons.

Good morning to you all.

Dr. Everett K. Gallinger
and Dr. Bertram Chickering Jr.

This is our new Assistant Chief Surgeon,
Dr. Algernon Edwards.

Thackery hired him?

Directed me
to do it as of late yesterday.

Everyone calls me Bertie.

Feel free yourself.

Welcome to our circus.

It seems we need to head back inside the tent.
Excuse me.

Septicemia following a bowel repair.

Mmm.

We need to go back in
and find the leak right away.

"We"? He is my patient, Doctor, not yours.

We can't go back in.
Bronchitis. The ether will kill him.

Get Dr. Thackery.

I don't believe he's come in yet.

Then find him, please.

Time is precious.
He's dying in front of our eyes.

Surely we can solve this ourselves?

- You'll solve nothing.
- Doctor.

He needs
an immediate resection.

Two slippery pieces of bowel, wet noodles
somehow sutured perfectly together

while septic fluids leak all over the cavity,
poisoning the patient.

That is if we are somehow able to bring about
surgical sleep without killing the man.

- Nurse Elkins.
- Yes?

Bertie and I will prepare
Mr. Gentile for the surgery.

I need you to find Dr. Thackery.
Try his home first.

We don't have a minute to spare.
Now, excuse me.

Lucy, do you know where he lives?

- No.
- 28 Waverly.

Lucy, do you know where that is?

No.

West, then left on Wooster Street
towards Washington Square.

Welcome to The Knick.

Dr. Thackery?

Dr. Thackery?

Dr. Thackery?

Dr. Thackery,
you're urgently needed for a procedure.

Good Lord, Dr. Thackery.

Go away.

Please go away.

Dr. Gallinger sent me.

A patient is dying.

Which one?

Mr...

Um, Mr. Gentile.

He has septicemia.

Fucking Gallinger.

What's wrong with you? Are you sick?

I was trying to spend a night without it.

Without what?

Nurse, I need your assistance.

You need to inject me.

I can't do it.

Cocaine?

How much? I don't want to kill you.

A touch more than 22.

You've destroyed yourself, Doctor.
You're collapsed everywhere.

Toes.

- They're too small.
- Not for me. It's fine.

- I don't think I can.
- Oh, for God's sake.

- What are you doing?
- You want a bigger vein?

You want me to inject into your...

Yes, on the underside. The urethral.

Nurse.

Do it!

Lord forgive me.

Gentlemen, atomizers on.

Everyone scrubbed, washed,
cleansed, deloused, purified by God?

- All except the last, Thack.
- What's he doing here?

- You hired him.
- I'm here to assist in the surgery.

- He's not touching me.
- Don't worry, Mr. Gentile. He won't be.

Everett, you'll be assisting me.
Bertie, you'll back up Everett.

Thack,
we can't use ether on account of his lungs

and we can't operate on a man who's awake.

I know. I was considering this on the way in.

You could try Nirvanin on the abdomen.
There's been some success in Germany.

In dental surgery. For something like this,
it won't penetrate to the necessary depth.

Nurse Elkins,
would you prepare a spinal needle

and a hypodermic of 10
of a 2% cocaine solution?

Are you not familiar with the drug?

- I am.
- Then prepare it.

I didn't hire him. Barrow forced him upon me.
He's the new Assistant Chief.

I was told you had decided
to offer me the position.

Well, if Barrow told it to you,

you should know there is never likely
to be much truth in it.

I will not stay where I'm not wanted.

Then I'm guessing
you don't stay anywhere for very long.

As per my oath, I will remain in the theater
until the patient is out of danger.

And then I will resign.

Congratulations, Everett,
on your new promotion.

Mr. Gentile, we're going to sit you up.

- Everett, Bertie.
- Uh, what are we doing?

Sit him up.
Arch his back forward.

Nurse Monk, pencil, sponge with antiseptic.

Gentlemen, before you is a patient

who is infected with
septicemia from his bowel.

Normally, we would
induce surgical sleep with ether,

but due to a severe case of bronchitis he has

developed post-operatively, we cannot.

We must operate, but we cannot
do it to a man who can feel pain.

My solution.

Numb the nerves in the spine

between the thoracic vertebrae six and seven

so as to stop the brain
from learning of the pain.

I intend to inject a 2% cocaine solution

directly into Mr. Gentile's spinal canal.

Low enough not to affect the heart and lungs,

high enough to dull everything below.

My God, won't that paralyze him?

Not if he makes for the hollow canal
in the subarachnoid space.

It's been tried once before

on a Labrador retriever.

What happened?

There isn't a day goes by
where I don't miss that dog.

If you could attempt to suppress your cough.

Just a few seconds more.

Let's get him back down.

He's a madman.

"Though this is madness,

"yet there is method in it."

No pain.

Scalpel.

Gauze.

Towel.

Here's the location
of my repairs.

Your sutures failed in two spots

where the obstruction
backed up with pressure on them.

- You should have resected.
- I know that now. I'm sorry.

Dr. Edwards, before you resign
and leave us all in tears,

would you be kind enough
to go to the sterilizer

and pass me the metal device
contained within?

I'm now removing

approximately 12 inches
of the patient's intestines

to relieve a blockage and some damage.

From this day forth, Mr. Gentile,

you will have the honor
of evacuating your bowels

several seconds faster
than any of your friends.

Watch carefully, Bertie.

You're gonna want
to tell your father all about this.

After the bad section of
the bowel is removed,

each new end of the intestine
can be clamped together into this device,

which allows it
to keep its tubular contour and shape.

I now tighten the screw
to bring the two new ends together.

And we're in good stead

for an easy connection

with sutures.

When I finish this, you close, Everett.

Nice knowing you, Doctor.

I'm not leaving this circus
until I learn everything you have to teach.

Chinatown. 467 Mott Street.

Yes, sir.

Ripped By mstoll