For over seven seasons, The Good Doctor has captivated audiences around the world. But if there’s one element that has consistently elevated the show beyond its genre — one heartbeat beneath the layers of medical jargon, ethical dilemmas, and emotional twists — it is Freddie Highmore’s performance as Dr. Shaun Murphy.
With quiet intensity, profound empathy, and breathtaking control, Highmore brings to life a character who has not only redefined medical drama but also transformed the way we talk about autism and representation on screen. And yet, despite the emotional complexity and sheer technical brilliance of his work, Highmore remains one of the most underrated actors in television.
Acting is often judged by volume. Yelling, crying, or grand monologues are rewarded. But Freddie Highmore’s portrayal of Shaun Murphy is a masterclass in restraint.
Shaun rarely raises his voice. He doesn’t always express emotions in conventional ways. Yet Highmore makes every flicker of hesitation, every downward glance, every delayed breath feel monumental. He invites us inside Shaun’s mind, where logic and emotion wrestle for control. He shows us how hard it is for Shaun to process grief, love, confusion — not through exposition, but through silence.
The physicality of the performance is just as precise. The rigid posture. The way Shaun walks through crowded hospital corridors, always just slightly out of sync with the rhythm of the world. The repetitive hand movements when overwhelmed. These aren’t quirks for show — they’re deeply studied and consistently portrayed markers of Shaun’s neurological reality.
One of the greatest challenges of playing Shaun Murphy is the tightrope between genius and vulnerability. Too far one way, and he becomes an emotionless robot. Too far the other, and he loses the traits that define his autism and savant syndrome.
Highmore balances both with stunning grace. We see Shaun save lives through stunning diagnostic insight — yet break down in isolation when faced with emotional disconnection. He can challenge a senior surgeon in the OR, then struggle to navigate a first date. He can face death without blinking, yet crumble under a poorly worded compliment.
It is this tension — the dual brilliance and fragility — that Highmore captures so intimately. And it is that complexity that deserves greater critical recognition. It’s no exaggeration to say that Shaun Murphy has become a global symbol of neurodiverse representation done right. He isn’t perfect. He isn’t always “likable” in the traditional TV sense. But that’s the point. Highmore doesn’t make Shaun easy to digest. He makes him real.
Viewers on the autism spectrum, along with their families, have shared stories of feeling seen for the first time. Teachers use episodes to foster discussions around inclusion. Parents have described how Shaun helped them understand their own children more clearly. And through it all, Highmore — who is not autistic himself — has consistently engaged with humility and care. He’s never claimed to speak for all autistic people. Instead, he listens, researches, collaborates with consultants, and adjusts. It’s a model of how actors can step into sensitive roles responsibly.
What many don’t know is that Freddie Highmore isn’t just the star of The Good Doctor — he’s also a producer and writer. He penned multiple episodes, including emotionally pivotal moments in Shaun’s journey. His voice helps shape the tone of the series, ensuring consistency, authenticity, and a strong narrative arc for a character he clearly loves. It’s rare for an actor, especially one so young, to wield that kind of influence on a network show. But Highmore doesn’t do it for spotlight. He does it because he believes in the work. That quiet commitment mirrors Shaun himself — always focused, always sincere, always underestimated.
Of course, awards aren’t everything. But they do send a message. They validate the quiet power of performance. They recognize the emotional labor behind each scene. And they inspire future storytellers to take similar risks. Freddie Highmore has received Golden Globe and Critics’ Choice nominations — but no wins. And in a television landscape that frequently rewards bigger, louder, and flashier, his omission says more about the system than about the man. Because anyone who has watched just one episode — truly watched — knows that Highmore is doing something extraordinary.
