For over a decade, the One Chicago franchise — which includes Chicago Fire, Chicago P.D., and Chicago Med — has delivered gripping storylines, high-stakes action, and beloved characters. From blazing infernos and complex criminal cases to emotional life-or-death surgeries, these interconnected dramas have built a loyal fan base that spans the globe. But as the shows continue into their latest seasons, a growing number of viewers are voicing the same frustration. Despite the franchise’s undeniable success, fans have identified one major flaw that’s becoming impossible to ignore — the constant revolving door of characters and the lack of meaningful resolution when they leave.
This isn’t just a matter of actors moving on to other projects. It’s about how the shows handle character departures — often abruptly, sometimes confusingly, and rarely with the emotional weight that fans expect. As a result, long-time viewers feel disconnected from the emotional arcs they’ve followed for years. The frustration isn’t new, but it’s reaching a boiling point.
Chicago Med is no different. Over the years, fans have said goodbye to characters like Dr. Connor Rhodes and Dr. Natalie Manning, both of whom were central to the show’s early seasons. Their exits felt incomplete, as if the writers were more focused on ushering in their replacements than giving the characters — and the audience — a proper goodbye. Even newer characters, such as Dr. Stevie Hammer, came and went so quickly that viewers barely had time to connect before they disappeared.
What’s truly frustrating is the emotional investment fans have poured into these characters. Viewers have watched them struggle with trauma, find love, experience loss, and evolve through their careers. When they leave suddenly, without proper closure, it feels as though all that time spent watching and caring meant very little. It’s not just about missing a favorite actor — it’s about narrative respect and continuity.
One of the franchise’s greatest strengths has always been its ability to connect characters across shows. Crossovers between Fire, P.D., and Med have created a shared universe with deep personal relationships. But as characters vanish, the emotional threads that bind the series start to unravel. We no longer see meaningful callbacks to past team members, or explore how their absence affects those left behind. New characters are often introduced to fill the gaps without much time given for development, which leads to a weaker emotional core.
The problem isn’t that change happens — change is inevitable in long-running television. Actors leave, contracts expire, and storylines must evolve. But the way One Chicago handles that change is where the issue lies. It often feels like characters are written off as a matter of convenience, with little regard for the emotional resonance or narrative consistency their exits deserve. This leaves viewers disoriented and disappointed, especially when relationships and character arcs are left hanging.
Fans have taken to social media to express their discontent, with posts regularly trending about character exits and wasted potential. Many say they continue watching out of loyalty, but their enthusiasm has faded. They feel the shows have become more procedural and less personal — a series of emergencies and crimes, but with fewer emotional stakes.
First, the franchise needs to honor character legacies, whether through extended goodbyes, emotional follow-up, or even revisiting past characters in flashbacks or side plots. Second, new characters need time to grow, instead of being used as quick replacements for fan favorites. Let viewers get to know them, build relationships, and earn their place in the story. Lastly, the writers must value emotional continuity. Characters in these shows form bonds that are meant to last — and when someone leaves, the impact should be felt for more than just one or two episodes.
Despite its flaws, One Chicago still has one of the most passionate fan bases in television today. Viewers want to keep watching. They want to keep caring. But for that to happen, the shows must slow down and treat their characters — and their audience — with the emotional depth and respect they deserve.
