Scrubs’ latest season does what its Med School spin-off tried and failed to do

A decade ago, relaunching a show could be seen as the death of creativity. It implies there is nothing new worth exploring at the time. Now, it seems nostalgia is back in. The producers and writers who were once influenced by shows of old now have a chance to write for them. Scrubs, Fraiser, Roseanne, it’s a little endless now for rehashes of old ideas. Not just in television, either. Music and film featured similar nostalgia pops, and few managed to haul themselves out of the shadow of what once was. Even if the project is sketchy or half-baked, the nostalgia is enough to push people through all the same, and may even be enough to have some defend it. Just look at Star Wars. What Scrubs has done is, somehow, stand out from the crowd. All the usual parts are in place, and part of the joy for that may come from the show having a steadier foundation. It is both a contrast to the dreaded ninth season, Med School, but also has much more in common with that preceding season than it does with any other season.  

Passing the torch to any new cast member is putting the team on thin ice, especially for a show as beloved as Scrubs. But Bill Lawrence and the team embrace the changes in the way television now works. They’re no longer broadcast but streamed, binged instead of boxed off in a specific hour of the day, every week. It doesn’t change the feeling of the show, the sentimentality and slick style is all there, but, like the cast themselves, Scrubs’ writing team has adapted it into a position where they can hand over to new characters. This latest season has what Med School didn’t have – time to encapsulate the success of the show, the emotional connection with the characters of the past. Those omissions, Dr. Kelso especially, are not to be overlooked – but the show does well to fill the void with new parts, which is the same premise the ninth series had. 

The difference is in establishing those newcomers as their own beings, rather than fatigued role reversals, which complemented neither the writing nor the actors tasked with bringing these pieces to life. Even with the aid of recurring characters, Ted, The Todd, and supporting roles from both Donald Faison and John C. McGinley, the show doesn’t quite get itself over the line. It’s not because of the J.D. omission, or the shoehorning of the Scrubs name into a show initially sold as a different piece entirely, but because Lawrence and the team were in a rush to bring together something familiar, yet fresh. To do this, it means the staple cast are mirror images of the original cast, though without the years of endearing expectation set by a show whose name has been one of household comedy value for a whole generation.  

You had the Dr. Cox prototype in Michael Mosley’s portrayal of Drew Suffin, a flipped protagonist with the same dreaminess as J.D. in the form of Lucy Bennett (Kerry Bishé) and another Dr. Cox prototype in Eliza Coupe, whose Dr. Denise Mahoney had appeared in the eighth season. It’s this rigidity that dragged the ninth season down. There’s no adaptation to new ideas because it had been too short a timeframe for said new ideas to appear. Take a look at the new characters found in season ten. Sure, they may be caricatures of Britain, social media-hungry stars, and a nervy break from J.D.’s subconscious, but it flows better because they still feel human. There’ll never be a chance for the cast to replicate the energy and feel of the original series, so why try? It’s where a controversial transition, as seen by the reduced relevance of Carla and Dr. Cox, comes into play.  

You can read the rest of this feature on Cult Following’s Substack.