The everyday lives of working-class inhabitants of Albert Square, a traditional Victorian square of terrace houses surrounding a park in the East End of London's Walford borough. The square includes the Queen Vic pub and a street market.
Pam St. Clement
Shot on a budget of 30 pence per episode, Doctors tells the story of the most peculiar GP surgery in all the land. "The Mill", as the surgery is called, exists in what appears to be so kind of post-apocalyptic England - I say it's post-apocalyptic because I have never seen such a depopulated place as Letherbridge (the town/city where the programme is set) - the surgery receives a maximum of 2 patients per day (you don't need to make an appointment, just rock up and demand to see the doctor of your choice immediately), the university appears to have no students and, whenever they're in the towns only bar, no other customers or members of staff are ever visible. This lack of patients enables the doctors to go on mad missions every day, visiting their only patient's house and sorting out any problems that they may have. The programme is so unrealistic that one wonders why they bothered to base it around a GP surgery, something that most viewers would have plenty of experience of. Seriously, the plot lines are absolutely mental - I suspect that they are created by the producers scrawling words on pieces of card and swirling them around inside a tombola machine before picking a few out and using them to string together some semblance of a coherent story. For example, last Friday's episode was created by picking the words "angina", "Los Angeles", "Down's Sydrome" and "phone sex". Basically, it's mental and, as the TV in my work's reception is permanently set to BBC1, I'm forced to endure it 5 days a week.
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