Even though TV’s most famous doctor was earning $700,000 per episode in the final season, *House* star Hugh Laurie said he still feels like a fraud.
Laurie regrets playing a “fake version” of a doctor instead of becoming a real one, as his father had hoped. He admitted that his “dad would have hated” the easier path he chose by becoming an actor.
Keep reading to find out why Laurie chose acting over medicine.
Dr. William (Ran) Laurie, Hugh’s father, had big dreams for his youngest son, born in June 1959.
Hugh Laurie was on track to follow in his father’s footsteps. His father was not only a respected physician but also a 1948 Olympic gold medalist in rowing and a graduate of a Cambridge college.
When British-born Hugh Laurie was studying at the same college as his father, he was also a member of the rowing team, with plans to train for the Olympics and then go to medical school.
However, Laurie discovered a drama club, the Cambridge Footlights, a sketch comedy group. There, he met actress Emma Thompson (*The Remains of the Day*) and his future comedy partner, Stephen Fry, who later co-starred with him in the 1997 film *Wilde*.
Laurie’s path changed completely.
Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, the now 64-year-old actor appeared in several TV shows, including the BBC sitcom *Blackadder*, where he co-starred with Fry.
Hugh Laurie also appeared in the 1995 film *Sense and Sensibility* with Emma Thompson, with whom he had once been in a relationship. He starred in Disney’s live-action *101 Dalmatians* (1996) and even made a guest appearance on *Friends*.
In 2004, Laurie was offered the chance to play a doctor in a new TV series called *House*, a medical drama that ran for eight seasons.
In his Golden Globe-winning role as Dr. Gregory House, Laurie dropped his British accent and perfectly played the narcissistic genius who led a teaching hospital in New Jersey.
During the show’s run, Laurie became Hollywood’s most popular doctor, gaining a huge global fan base. However, life as a celebrity also brought its own challenges.
“I had some pretty bleak times, dark days when it felt like there was no way out,” Hugh Laurie said in a 2013 interview with *Radio Times* (via *Daily Mail*). “I have a strong work ethic, so I was determined never to be late or miss a single day of filming. You wouldn’t catch me calling in sick, saying, ‘I think I’m getting the flu.’ But there were times when I’d think, ‘If I had a little accident on the way to the studio and got a couple of days off to recover, that would be great.’”
Those days off didn’t come until 2012, with the final season of *House*.
After that, Laurie kept busy, appearing in TV shows like *Veep* and the 2015 science fiction film *Tomorrowland*, which starred another famous TV doctor, George Clooney.
In 2016, Hugh Laurie took on another doctor role, this time as neuropsychiatrist Dr. Eldon Chance in the TV series *Chance*.
The *Maybe Baby* star explained to the *Los Angeles Daily News*, “As a gambler, my instinct is to walk away after even a modest win… Yet I was drawn back to this wonderful project that was simply irresistible.” Comparing *House* to his role in *Chance* (which was canceled after two seasons in 2017), Laurie said, “The characters are very different. Their medical practices and attitudes toward life are completely different.”
Despite his Hollywood fame, Laurie, who also starred in 2018’s *Holmes & Watson*, still feels he let his father down by not becoming a real doctor. His father, who passed away from Parkinson’s disease in 1998, had been a respected physician.
“My father was a real doctor. If it’s true that many men try to become versions of their father and fail, it seemed fitting that I ended up being a fake version of a doctor,” said Laurie, who also played a doctor in the 2005 film *The Big Empty*.
“My father had high hopes for me to follow him into medicine,” Hugh Laurie said. “I would have liked to become a doctor myself, and I still have dreams about being one. We live in a world of shortcuts, don’t we? And I took those shortcuts. Dad would have hated that.”
Laurie calls himself a “cop-out,” adding, “Honestly, this causes me a lot of guilt.”
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My mother-in-law converted our adopted son’s bedroom into her personal library during our absence, the stern lesson I imparted was severe
The unexpected redesign of our adopted son’s room by my mother-in-law sent shockwaves through our family. The events that followed revealed hidden feelings and truths we hadn’t acknowledged, taking us on a tumultuous journey filled with love, betrayal, and hard-earned lessons that would forever change our family dynamics.
For weeks, I had dedicated myself to creating the perfect space for Max. The joy of finally adopting him had Garrett and me brimming with excitement as we decorated the room with posters of dinosaurs and spaceships, arranged stuffed animals, and stocked the bookshelves with bright, engaging stories.
After putting in so much effort, I turned to Garrett, seeking his reassurance about our work. He wrapped an arm around me and smiled, expressing his belief that Max would adore the room.
Our moment was abruptly interrupted by a knock. Vivian, Garrett’s mother, peeked inside, her expression a mix of surprise and skepticism. She scanned the room, and I felt a wave of unease wash over me as she offered a backhanded compliment about how “vibrant” it looked.
As her gaze fell on the carefully arranged toys, a calculating look crossed her face. She suggested that the room might serve better as a reading nook, implying that Max needed some “intellectual stimulation” to unlock his potential. Her comments felt patronizing, a thinly veiled attempt to take over a space we had lovingly crafted for our son. Garrett and I exchanged concerned glances, sensing the brewing tension. It became increasingly apparent that Vivian’s presence in our home was becoming more of a strain than a comfort.
Garrett attempted to assert our authority as parents, reminding his mother that Max was now part of our family. Vivian, however, dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand, hinting that her connection to him as his grandmother should hold more weight.
As I held back my frustration, I recalled that Vivian was still grieving her husband’s recent death. She had been living with us, and while we thought it would help her heal, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were headed for conflict.
The day before our anniversary getaway, we exchanged hurried goodbyes with Max. His anxious expression tugged at my heart. As my sister Zoe arrived to take care of him while we were away, I noticed Vivian watching from the window, her face unreadable.
Our trip was beautiful, filled with romantic dinners and scenic walks. Yet, an unsettling feeling lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn’t help but worry about what was happening at home. Once we returned, the moment we stepped inside, something felt off. A strange odor wafted through the air. As we made our way upstairs, my stomach sank with each step.
Reaching Max’s room, I stood frozen in disbelief. The bright colors and cheerful décor were gone, replaced by stark bookshelves, a plush chair, and a muted daybed. The walls had lost their vibrant blue hue, leaving a bland beige in its wake.
Garrett’s shocked outburst echoed my feelings as Vivian appeared, her face alight with pride. She called it a surprise, completely oblivious to the destruction she had wrought. I demanded to know where Max’s toys had gone, my anger bubbling to the surface.
Vivian shrugged, claiming that the room now had a “sophisticated” touch that Max needed. I was furious; this was a space meant for a seven-year-old, not a study for an adult. Garrett tried to reason with his mother, but she continued to insist that the changes were for the best. I felt my emotions boiling over as I wondered how she could be so dismissive of our son’s needs.
After Vivian left the room, I collapsed onto the daybed, overwhelmed by the situation. Garrett joined me, sighing in frustration, and we both realized that it was time to establish some boundaries with his mother.
I began to devise a plan. For the next few days, I played the part of the grateful daughter-in-law, expressing my appreciation for her “help” while secretly plotting our response. One morning, I suggested to Vivian that we treat her to a spa day and a special dinner, feigning warmth in my tone. She was thrilled, and as soon as she left, Garrett and I sprang into action.
We transformed her cherished garden into a chaotic playground, uprooting her beloved flowers to make space for a sandbox and scattering toys throughout the area. We even added a small slide, turning her sanctuary into a vibrant play space.
When Vivian returned, I greeted her at the door with an overly cheerful demeanor and a blindfold. As we led her outside, I could barely contain my excitement. Once she stood in front of her wrecked garden, we removed the blindfold. Silence enveloped us for a moment before she gasped in horror at the sight before her.
I feigned innocence, asking if she liked the “playful” new touch. Her horrified response confirmed what I already knew—she had no idea how her actions had affected us, just as we had shown little regard for her beloved garden.
Garrett stepped in to explain that we hadn’t destroyed anything; we had simply repurposed it, much like she had done to Max’s room. The realization hit her hard, and she began to understand the gravity of her decisions.
Tears filled her eyes as she realized the parallel between Max’s room and her garden. We spent the evening in heartfelt conversation, discussing her fears of being replaced and how we could better include her in our family dynamics.
By the end of the night, we had a plan: together, we would restore Max’s room, and Vivian would help us explain the situation to him. She also agreed to seek support for her grief, a step towards healing that we all needed. The following day, we worked together to bring Max’s room back to life. Just as we finished hanging the last poster, we heard his voice calling from the front door.
When Max burst into the room, his face lit up with joy, and he rushed into my arms, relieved to see his space returned to him. I exchanged a knowing glance with Vivian, who offered me a small, remorseful smile. It was a moment of understanding and healing.
That night, we all snuggled together in Max’s room for bedtime stories. As I looked around at my family, I realized that sometimes the most challenging experiences lead to the most profound realizations about love, family, and acceptance.
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