We live in terrifyingly cynical times. We’re so steeped in the stuff that it feels like we’re stuck in the fuselage of a downed plane that landed in the ocean and we’re barely keeping our heads above water as the whole thing slowly sinks.
Times like these are why I often turn to television. Some of my TV-comedy coping skills usually include classic shows with sharp, witty writing like The Dick Van Dyke Show, SCTV, and Scrubs. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen all the seasons, but the writing and characters are so clever and funny that they still feel fresh and welcoming.
In fact, I envy those who haven’t watched this medical TV gem from Ted Lasso creator Bill Lawrence, who helped save the modern sitcom from endless years of bland, canned, multi-camera laugh-fests. You won’t need to watch the entire nine-season run to get all the jokes, even if some of the inside ones won’t make sense — the “Eagle” reference is the bromance call between the show’s two main characters, J.D. (Zach Braff) and Turk (Donald Faison).
If you do, though, stop after the eighth season. The other great thing about ABC’s Scrubs reboot is that it has a chance to end with a stronger button than the unnecessary, final “medical school” year.
Like all modern TV reboots, Scrubs starts by showing us what our favorite characters have been doing since we last left the halls of Sacred Heart Hospital, where the titular “scrubs” learned how to become full-fledged doctors. J.D. starts off working as a concierge physician for the affluent when one of his wealthy patients brings him back to his old turf and into the path of my favorite TV curmudgeon, Perry Cox (John C. McGinley).
Spoiler alert: The encounter between the angry doctor and the wide-eyed, ambitious “newbie,” the term Cox used to constantly call J.D. in between random girls’ names, is just a setup. The opening episode uses it as a touching, surprising way to bring J.D. back to Sacred Heart to replace Cox as the chief of medicine, a role originally held by Bob Kelso (Ken Jenkins), whose name pops up in a fun little Easter egg during a consequential scene.
We also learn that J.D. and Elliot (Sarah Chalke) were married but divorced, so we can still enjoy their tenuous romance as it possibly rekindles under new circumstances and gives Chalke a chance to do that hilarious high-octave screech that can clear swarms of people when things get out of her control.
It’s also a clever way to turn the tables back on J.D., who started as a medical intern and now must teach a whole new batch of young doctors how to administer enemas, open boils, and deal with the daily grind of treating people’s physical and emotional well-being.
The true charm of Scrubs is its ability to be silly without sacrificing the sentiment that makes it serious, from the playful dialogue to J.D.’s imagination cutaways that portray his internal conflict navigating the medical industry. It doesn’t shy away from the seriousness of the drama that’s naturally created in a hospital setting. Subjects like love, death, and medical bureaucracy are handled with equally adept emotion without straying too far into sullenness.
Hosting a new crop of young doctors means we also get some new characters just as well-defined as their forebears and given plenty of room to grow and develop. Blake (David Gridley) and Amara (Layla Mohammadi) show some particularly adept skill with scripts that can easily zip between funny and serious within a matter of minutes.
Another great thing that helped Scrubs stand out from other comedies is how the characters’ emotions and struggles aren’t limited to just one episode’s story for the sake of convenience. You’re not watching whiteboards that get erased and washed after every episode. These characters wear their wins and losses every season in ways that feel real and effective, like how J.D. must now shoulder running a hospital under budget while still fulfilling his oath to deliver quality care within the limitations of the system.
Even the show’s most well-defined characters, like Turk, can go through changes without resorting to sappiness. The brash, cocky, playful surgeon is now a father of four with his wife Carla (Judy Reyes), and even he begins to crack under the pressure of his industry and life. The conflict isn’t entirely resolved in one episode and will inevitably come back as we get deeper into the season.
Scrubs is still the kind of TV comedy that aims high and hits on every level, like a live-action Simpsons or The Pitt with occasional pratfalls.
