"Hopkins:" ABC's documentary series has a twist that not even "Swingtown" considered

(The doctors of Johns Hopkins are more proficient than those pictured.)

Eight summers ago, ABC ran a documentary miniseries, "Hopkins 24/7," about life in Johns Hopkins Hospital in Boston. It was an intelligent spin on reality programming, examining doctors, patients and medical traumas and dramas. It got great reviews, ran its course and then, poof, just disappeared.

Until now. Apparently, some ABC executives were looking at those ratings from eight years ago and, in this scary new viewer-depleted world, thought, "Well, if we could replicate those numbers today, that'd be really good, compared to our celebrity auto-racing crap."

And so, "Hopkins" (no 24/7; apparently, the camera people are getting nights and weekends off this time around). And again, some nice human drama, some dedicated doctors, some gripping and agonizing moments.

Tonight, we meet Dr. Alfredo Quinones-Hinjosa, who snuck into the country and worked as an illegal migrant farm worker before turning his life around and becoming an esteemed brain surgeon. He's driven to be the best, and this evening must deal with Mike, a good-ole-boy whose wife and kids abandoned him, who has a brain tumor; whether it's benign or malignant won't be clear until the doctor operates and navigates a tricky part of the brain.

We're also introduced to Brian Bethea, a friendly, low-key heart-and-lung doctor whose devotion to his job has grievously damaged his marriage. As opposed to some of the other doctors, Bethea allows ABC to follow him home while his marriage (to a woman he's known since grade school) is breaking up, as he's preparing to move into an apartment. All his brilliance and sensitive bedside manner, and his reward is a crummy apartment. (Bethea's plight is examined in subsequent installments, and resolved - for the time being, at least - in episode three).

The medical stories in tonight's episode aren't exactly pulse-pounding, though subsequent episodes feature races against the clock to deliver transplant organs. Executive producer Terence Wrong doesn't seem to trust his audience much - every time we return to Quinones-Hinjosa, he has to repeat the story of his ascendance from humble roots; every time we return to Bethea, he must re-summarize his family problems (did he mention he's known her since sixth grade? Yes, he has). And the series really could've done with a lot less of the emo music.

We meet more doctors in future episodes, but tonight also introduces viewers to Dr. Karen Boyle, Johns Hopkins' first female urologist. Fair enough, there are plenty of male gynecologists, and she reports that her husband is cool with her job and even curious about her daily routine, but you can just imagine how "Swingtown" would manage a plotline like this, and there are a couple of amusingly awkward scenes when she asks patients to drop trou (though mainly funny thanks to the tortured angles from which the cameras capture the moment).

"When someone pulls down their pants, I act like it's an everyday thing, because it is," Dr. Boyle says reasonably. But there are so many unanswered questions, such as: When she starts examining her patients' tackle, are there any problems with, um, tumescence?

Anyway, Boyle's job in tonight's installment is to reverse a man's vasectomy. As with Quinones-Hinjosa's operation, there are moments of mild drama played a little bigger than technically necessary, but in the end, there are happy endings. No, not that kind of happy ending.

- "Hopkins:" 10 tonight (9 Central); ABC (Channel 7).