Scrubs Revival review: A clumsy, well-meaning stumble into the Gen Z era

Goodness, it’s not easy being an millennial. It was just yesterday that we bid goodbye to the Harry Potter film franchise in 2011, thinking that the chapter of magical wands and snitches had been closed for good. Memories would suffice.

And then, Cursed Child, Fantastic Beasts films and now a Harry Potter reboot is in the works.

Some of us millennials would undoubtedly prefer to leave things behind in chapters, rather than repeatedly encountering the same material later in the book under a new subheading. That sentiment extends to the wave of live-action remakes, reboots, sequels, spin-offs, and every other label in the lexicon, including the Scrubs revival.

In the early 2000s, Bill Lawrence’s medical drama Scrubs settled in comfortably, carving out its own niche while hitting the sweet spot between drama and comedy. It wasn’t a sitcom per se like Friends, nor was it the adrenaline-infused Grey’s Anatomy, packed with deaths, exits, shootouts and anxiety-inducing surgeries in every other episode.

Scrubs revolved around the male version of a manic pixie dreamer, John Dorian (Zach Braff), and his perception of a teaching hospital, alongside his caustic mentor Dr Cox, best friend Christopher Turk, gentle but firm nurse Carla, and his on-off relationship with Elliott. Each episode featured its share of cutaway scenes built around JD’s absurd daydreams, and that’s where the true charm of the show lay: getting a peek into someone’s imagination and seeing the wildest things they could conjure.

And yet, there were some episodes that were so brutal with hard-hitting truths and life-lessons that they still remain seared and untouched, years on. It was the peculiar quality of Scrubs: You would be laughing one minute, and then questioning your entire existence, the next.

Some of these episodes included when JD first realises that a patient would just prefer to die, or when he struggles to accept that another patient that he really likes, could be suffering from leukemia. And one of the most painful episodes, being, when Dr Cox loses three patients due to rabies. It’s the gentle speech that JD tells him that brings him back from the brink: To still care so much, after all these years of watching death and suffering.

Scrubs, back then, twisted the knife, and sometimes, pushed it in further and then stitched you up and allowed you to heal. Now, the revival attempts to do the same, but a tad more clumsily and sketchily, quite like JD himself.  

The jokes don’t quite land, and the rest of the cast barring JD, Turk, Carla and Elliott, lack the certain zing and silliness that the earlier recurring members did, such as the hapless Lonnie and Dug, or even the frazzled doctor handling the MRI machines.

We’re now in the era of selfies, follows and Gen Z, reflected in the interns at Sacred Heart, as it should be, if the story is picking up 15 years later. Yet, it feels ill-fitting, like clothes that might suit someone else but don’t quite match their own personality. Everything suddenly seems overly explained, especially the conversations around burnout, as highlighted in the first episode by Turk.

The brilliance of the original Scrubs lay in its subtlety, it dealt with similar problems without ever having to explain itself. While the potshots at wellness programmes are welcome, the attempt to fit into what is perceived as a Gen Z landscape feels forced. Scrubs never needed to follow a textbook route; it could have found its own footing while weaving in sly references to today’s world.

No doubt, the Scrubs revival has its moments, but nothing close to the endlessly rewatchable quality of the original. The nameless Janitor is conspicuous in his absence, as are Dr Kelso’s thorny barbs. And of course, for Ted, missed all the more after the passing of Sam Lloyd in 2020. It's difficult to watch the show without the sweaty, sweet, acapella singing lawyer now.

Some shows age with us. Scrubs didn't need to. Not everything needs a second act to justify the first.