Dr Orna Guralnik. Dr Orna Guralnik. How I love to say her name. The rhythm of it is so pleasing. I roll the vowels around my tongue, enjoying their curves.
If you are unaware of Dr Orna Guralnik (just an excuse to type it again), then allow me to introduce you.
She is a psychotherapist, based in New York, and an exact replica of her tastefully decorated office is the scene of Couples Therapy, a television programme in which she offers a safe space for the city’s emotionally impaired to come and discuss their relationship woes.
It has been quietly growing a cult following on BBC iPlayer for the last four years and came at just the right time for a nation of shut-ins, wanting to cast their own demons out by criticising the relationships of others.
But it’s not just an exercise in schadenfreude. The couples on Couples Therapy tend towards the articulate. This is no Jerry Springer show. The production has somehow been able to cast the kind of truly interesting, introspective neurotics who make this show so interesting.
Dr Orna is methodical, always calm no matter how loud the shouting gets and often accompanied by her faithful hound, Nico. He’s a great displacement animal when the couples first arrive, disarming them before the talking even starts.
But she - Dr OG - is the one I come to watch. Her technique is gentle, sometimes meandering, then, suddenly, like an Exocet landing in between the warring spouses. Her power is quiet but devastating. She achieves her goals with seemingly little, but she never misses.
“Say more…” she’ll throw in, leaning forward and tangling her forearms in front of her. “Because?” She’ll prompt when she thinks a sentence needs to reach it’s natural end. I often mimic her in conversations with my husband. “I’ll do the sausages for tea.” I lean forward. “Say more?” We’re a hoot.
This piece in Vulture is fascinating on how the show is shot to replicate the therapy experience while disturbing it as little as possible. It’s not until you’ve seen a few episodes that your brain starts to work out how on earth they’re getting the angles they’re getting on an obviously one-take scene. They don’t shoot the same argument twice if they missed a facial expression.
Essentially, it’s like those cameras in nesting boxes on Springwatch. You don’t want the wildlife to be self-conscious of the TV side of things, so they’ll do what comes naturally. Everything is hidden, even though the couples know they are walking onto a studio set.
It reminds me of Sarah’s bedroom on the rubbish dump in Labyrinth. When Jareth the Goblin King is trying to con her into staying in his kingdom, he reconstructs her bedroom in the middle of an endless garbage dump to stop the homesickness that’s making her want to leave.
The couples come to a safe space they already know because they’ve met Dr Orna at her real office. The replica one is designed for them to feel comfortable but also cleverly employs two-way mirrors so they can unobtrusively shoot the angst from every angle.
You might question the ethics of this apparently Waitrose Jeremy Kyle format, but read the interviews with past participants. None of them feel used, exploited or otherwise taken advantage of.
They go through a rigorous casting process and are paid to take part in the series. The problems that they bring are real but they’re getting time with the good doctor for free. She usually charges around $700 dollars for a session.
Who knows about the motivations of the couples who apply to be put through the emotional ringer with Dr O. But the casting people must really know their onions because not one of them gives off a hint of fame-hungriness.
Casting is everything. But so is Dr Orna Guralnik. Apparently the writers’ room for Succession were all obsessed with this show, so jam-packed is it with emotional truth and pain.
But it’s optimistic too. People who might never have tried therapy have been inspired to after watching. In demystifying the therapy room, it seems to actually be doing some good, rather than cheapening something precious.
A new series, in this season of grey and rain, is a temptation. To close the curtains, get under a blanket and drink tea from a favourite mug while binging is to know true bliss. But I must relent because - irony - I have to wait to watch it with my husband.
Talk about unreasonable behaviour.
I’ve kept it a secret from my partner and I’ve convinced myself The OG would say ‘because’ and I don’t have a good answer. I love her and this show so much. She is superb, and her group supervision sessions when they all gently chide and encourage her are a highlight.
I too must wait for my partner to become available 😂 and I definitely will not be telling my therapist about that