Beer and body butter. Candles and caramel turtles. Peanut butter and potpourri. Lattes, lattes and more lattes.
It’s fall, and the apps and aisles are packed with ways to fill your senses with the cozy comforts of pumpkin-spice everything. Whether it’s your parched elbows, your musty closets or your demanding sweet tooth, there is a pumpkin-spice product waiting to waft you away on a cloud of nutmeg and nostalgia.
But what about your brain? Doesn’t that deserve a little pumpkin love, too?
It does. And Netflix’s “Virgin River” is ready to deliver unto you a bottomless mug of warm, comforting Pumpkin Spice TV, with a generous topping of cinnamon whipped cream on top and a scone on the side.
Because “Virgin River” knows what you want, even when you won’t it it to yourself.
Now in its third season on Netflix, this flannel-wrapped drama about a grieving nurse practitioner’s do-over life in a small Northern California town is also one of the streaming service’s most popular series. It was recently renewed for a fourth and fifth installment, and if you have been wondering what the heck this Hallmark Channel-esque show is doing lurking in your queue, it’s time to stop asking and start watching.
You might be surprised, but you won’t be sorry.
Based on the romance-novel series by Robyn Carr (now at 21 books and counting), “Virgin River” stars Alexandra Breckenridge (Kevin’s ex-wife, Sophie, on “This is Us”) as Melinda “Mel” Monroe, a nurse practitioner and midwife who flees the big city and her bad memories to work with a small-town 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 (Martin Henderson,”Grey’s Anatomy”), a handsome, sensitive man with a few demons of his own?
Do you really 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.
Resistance is futile, I promise you.
Speaking of surrendering, now would be good time to talk about Jack Sheridan, the dimpled, be-stubbled former Marine who 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 . Sparks fly almost immediately, but the show manages to keep the relationship at a steady simmer for an astoundingly long time.
Given the synapse-searing 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, having a fine old time), “Virgin River” also deals with domestic violence, post-partum depression and PTSD.
Some of the issues are handled more deftly than others, and with just one non-White major character (Colin Lawrence’s stalwart Preacher), it has a ways to go on the diversity front. But the show does an irable job giving audiences a little emotional fiber with their fairytale 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. Unlike a certain flavor profile we know, Pumpkin Spice TV never goes out of season.
