Pulse, Netflix's new medical drama: Not DOA, but nothing special 

Netflix’s debut English-language medical drama, Pulse, arrives with high ambitions, aiming to carve a niche in the crowded hospital genre alongside giants like Grey’s Anatomy and ER.

Created by Zoe Robyn and executive-produced by Carlton Cuse (Lost), the series dives into the high-stakes world of Miami’s Maguire Hospital, a Level 1 trauma center, where personal dramas and medical crises collide against the backdrop of a looming hurricane.

Led by Willa Fitzgerald as Dr. Danny Simms and Colin Woodell as Dr. Xander Phillips, Pulse promises a fresh spin on the familiar formula. Yet, despite a talented cast and glimmers of potential, the show stumbles with a muddled narrative, questionable character choices, and an execution that feels more soap opera than surgical precision.

Set in a vibrant Miami, Pulse kicks off with a chaotic storm, both meteorological and interpersonal, as third-year resident Danny Simms files a sexual harassment claim against her supervisor, chief resident Xander Phillips, triggering his suspension and her promotion.

The hospital, thrown into lockdown by Hurricane Andy, becomes a pressure cooker where Danny must navigate her new role, a flood of trauma cases, and the fallout of her accusation. The ensemble, including Jessie T. Usher as Dr. Sam Elijah, Jack Bannon as Dr. Tom Cole, and Justina Machado as department chair Dr. Natalie Cruz, grapples with fractured relationships and professional rivalries, while flashbacks tease the murky history between Danny and Xander.

The show’s premise holds intrigue, particularly its attempt to tackle workplace power dynamics and consent. What comes across well is that Xander clearly loves Danny and means well, but that he is also, maybe unwillingly, taking advantage of his position as Chief Resident and her direct superior to get what he wants, and as she points out, what he wants is her.

However, Pulse falters in its delivery. The decision to unfold the first half of the 10-episode season over a single 24-hour shift, saturated with hurricane-driven emergencies, proves disorienting. Viewers are bombarded with patients and jargon before they can connect with the characters, making it hard to care about who’s wielding the scalpel or why.

The narrative’s reliance on dual timelines, jumping between the present and sepia-toned flashbacks, is really confusing and makes for difficult viewing. Let's be honest, you're not watching Pulse for its cerebral overtones, it's really more like Virgin River in an ER, so the watching experience needs to be easy and fun.

It also leaved interesting characters like Danny’s sister Harper (Jessy Yates), a resident who uses a wheelchair, underdeveloped until late in the season.

The handling of the sexual harassment storyline is Pulse’s most glaring misstep. Introduced abruptly, Danny’s claim against Xander is breadcrumbed through vague flashbacks that cast doubt on her motives, creating a sense of manipulation rather than nuance. The show’s reluctance to engage deeply with the complexities of workplace misconduct feels out of touch, especially in an era where such issues demand sensitivity.

Instead, it leans heavily on soapy tropes, steamy romances, petty feuds, and tearful stairwell breakdowns, echoing Grey’s Anatomy without its emotional heft or charm. As one critic noted, “Pulse is a frustrating mishmash of many better shows crammed into a blender,” lacking the magnetism to recover from its miscalculations.

The cast is a saving grace, with Fitzgerald delivering a layered performance as Danny, a doctor wrestling with ambition and vulnerability. Woodell’s Xander, though saddled with an uneven arc, brings good looks and definite broody charisma, while veterans like Machado and Néstor Carbonell (as surgeon Ruben Soriano) inject gravitas, hinting at a richer show that could have centered on their perspectives. Bright spots like Daniela Nieves’s sunny medical student Camila Perez add warmth, but too many characters, Usher’s pining Sam, Bannon’s smug Tom, feel like archetypes rather than people.

Pulse isn’t totally without merit. Its Miami setting, with doctors slipping effortlessly between English and Spanish, grounds the chaos in a vivid cultural context. The back half of the season, starting with Episode 6 (“Homestead”), finds firmer footing as the storm subsides, allowing quieter moments to flesh out Danny and Harper’s backstory. Yet, these improvements come too late to salvage a show that feels overstuffed and undercooked. With a 48% critic score and 51% audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes, Pulse has struggled to resonate.

Its timing is also unfortunate, coming at the same time as Max’s The Pitt. This makes viewers likely to compare the two with Pulse coming out the clear loser. The Pitt is degrees of brilliance better in terms of both its medicine and its drama.

Viewership data offers little encouragement for a second season. Debuting at #3 on Netflix’s Top 10, Pulse briefly hit #1 but quickly slipped, amassing 6.5 million views in its first four days—a decent but not stellar performance. As Forbes’ Paul Tassi observed, “This is not exactly an ultra-powerhouse performance, and it may not be enough to encourage a second season.”

While the show’s relatively low production costs and Netflix’s occasional willingness to grant second chances could keep hope alive, the lackluster reception and completion rates cast doubt. Cuse has teased plans to explore deeper character stories, but without a significant retooling, Pulse risks flatlining.

Pulse tries to juggle too much, hurricanes, heartbreaks, and HR scandals, without the finesse to make it compelling. Those nostalgic for Grey’s early days might find moments to enjoy, but anyone seeking the depth of The Pitt or the heart of ER will leave the ER feeling unfulfilled. Pulse isn’t dead on arrival, but it’s in desperate need of a stronger heartbeat.

Variety, Forbes and Vulture contributed to this review.