Owen Hunt caught our attention the first time he waltzed onto our screens. It was the season five premiere when the former Army medic first breezed into Seattle Grace, casually stapling his leg wound, yanking an icicle from Cristina Yang’s chest (both literally and metaphorically), and ending the encounter with an extremely passionate kiss. He was a rogue. He was a brat before Charli XCX co-opted the term. He was, perhaps, the most surprising entry to date in a sea of nuanced characters just trying to save lives and get by.
But the times have certainly changed. Don’t get me wrong — I want to root for Hunt. His sense of honor and dedication still point to a character who isn’t beyond redemption. But after sixteen years and counting of watching him put his pride, inability to communicate, and PTSD ahead of the people he cares about the most, straightforwardly liking him has become a challenge. In short, he’s officially entered the realm of the antihero.
Should I have seen it coming? Well, Grey’s is indeed a Shondaland production, and Shonda Rhimes’s goal has always been to create fully fleshed-out, majorly flawed characters. The Hunt we first met would have been the stuff of fun fantasy fodder — a veteran hero arrives just in time to save the girl. It’s, frankly, basic, and we all know Rhimes is far from that.
And I have to give it to Kevin McKidd for embodying Hunt in all his dark and twisty evolution. There’s no straight line between PTSD and solid mental health, and McKidd skillfully explores the jagged edges of his character, an unfolding project that he’s still enjoying.
“He was this edgy, provocative character who people would be angry with sometimes,” McKidd recently told Shondaland of his legacy. “And we’ve held on to that. He creates a dialogue. I love that because so many TV characters over the years become homogenized because they just want everyone to be likable. And likability only goes so far.”
We’re led to believe that Hunt’s inability to communicate, impulsivity, and desire to control every situation come from his place in the military-industrial complex. And while he has dealt with severe PTSD, that’s not what makes the character an anti-hero. His moral grey areas are born from his inability to own his story, his actions, and ask for help. It makes him a walking lesson in what happens when good intentions and toxic masculinity tropes collide.
It should have been clear something was deeply wrong early in his story, when, after a whirlwind romance with Cristina, Hunt woke up strangling her in a PTSD haze. Obviously, the man needed therapy, but instead he doubled down. Confessing his love to win her back may have been a power move, but not once did he take any personal responsibility for the traits that caused her to pull away in the first place.
Though he tries to remedy things in his own, confused way. Hunt, the natural hero, leans into saving lives full throttle, taking pride in tough saves like treating plane crash victims, gunshot traumas, and even performing a C-section in the field. Sure, he understands the basics of his story enough to encourage April Kepner to seek healing as an army medic after her miscarriage. But it seems unlikely he understands that his extreme drive to succeed, and the comfort he finds in it, are also a complex coping mechanism.
But his erratic nature also affects his day job. How long can he continue to shrug off moments like when he suffers a flashback in surgery, or the panic he felt after a hospital shooting? You cannot will yourself out of the emotional state he has found himself in without help. And by refusing therapy and attempting to simply ignore the problem, Hunt effectively solidified his anti-hero status.
And all this baggage winds up in his personal life to some degree or another. It’s clear that Hunt does want love, family, and children — which are all reasonable goals. But in a series of relationships that would have Dr. Ruth clutching her pearls, he manages to alienate three of Grey Sloan’s finest surgeons in his quest to have it all. It was painful enough seeing him hold Cristina’s hand through her abortion, only to then lash out in the middle of a party, ending their marriage in the process. But impulsively marrying Amelia Shepard, and then gaslighting her about her lack of desire for children — eventually blaming it on a brain tumor instead of a traumatic miscarriage — is yet another gross misread. As is adopting Leo in an attempt to build his own family, once again negating Amelia’s desires in the process.
And then… there’s Hunt’s dynamic with Teddy Altman.
On paper, their relationship should be a no-brainer. The two have been best friends for years, proven they can work with each other even in the heat of battle, and even seem interested in the same kind of life — marriage and children included. But Hunt’s impulsivity wins once again the moment he flies to Germany, gets Altman pregnant (while still sorta, kinda involved with Shepherd), and then freaks out when she appears in Seattle.
It seems like Hunt loves her, and maybe always has, but all of the massive romantic gestures, the constant push and pull of will they, won’t they, really begs the question: Does he love Altman, or does he love the idea of her? Well, their love isn’t enough to shake his loyalty to his fellow vets, whom he helps end their lives through illegal means, despite what losing his medical license would mean if he were caught. Of course, that “if he’s caught” became a “when,” forcing him to flee, Altman and kids in tow. This should have been yet another in a long line of wake-up calls that his work-first, honor-first ethos is wildly unsustainable.
But, as perhaps one of the only Hunt supporters, I have to believe there is hope. When we last saw him, he was floored by Altman’s announcement that she was leaving him. While it’s a sad end to what should have been one of the most promising of the show’s relationships, it also marks the first time Hunt has been forced to sit with the consequences of his actions.
At its core, Grey’s is a show filled with evolution and redemptive arcs, and the messy work it takes to get there. And despite it all, I’m still rooting for Owen Hunt. He still hasn’t gotten it right, but this time, maybe he’ll be up to the heroic task of finally facing himself.
