Suddenly it feels like the 2000s again, with a revived “Scrubs” premiering Wednesday on ABC and Tracy Morgan reincarnating the spirit of “30 Rock” in NBC’s “The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins” — network television shows, too, as in the days when streaming was just something tears and traffic did.
Beginning as a tale of new doctors at work and in love, “Scrubs” may also be seen as a looking-glass “Grey’s Anatomy,” although as “Scrubs” premiered first, it’s fairer to say that “Grey’s” is a straight-faced “Scrubs,” probably not a thought that ever crossed Shonda Rhimes’ mind. The show, then and now, combines a sentimental, satirical, soapy, sometimes surreal comedy with a straightforward medical show. Stars Zach Braff, Donald Faison and Sarah Chalke are back full-time, not quite in their old places, but arranged in close quarters, with Judy Reyes and John C. McGinley listed as recurring and other old faces slated to peek in.
The show left the air in 2010, after its ninth season, a virtual spin-off that has been declared noncanonical. The Season 8 finale saw protagonist, narrator and inveterate daydreamer J.D. (Braff), a person who really needs people — “I can’t do this all on my own” runs the show’s title song — looking into a happy future, married with a child to surgeon Elliot (Chalke). But that was just a dream, just a dream. The new season finds them at odds, and while a child is mentioned, it remains unseen, at least for the four episodes (of nine) out for review.
As we begin again, J.D. is working as a concierge doctor, tending to the minor ailments of the rich — cut toe, long-lasting chemically induced erection — when he’s drawn back to Sacred Heart Hospital to check on a patient. By the end of the first episode, his former mentor, the acerbic yet strangely sympathetic Dr. Cox (McGinley), will give him a job, of which is officially a spoiler to describe — even though it’s the premise of the show — noting his gift for teaching and reuniting J.D. with bromantic best friend Turk (Faison), the chief of surgery. (“Two chiefs!” is their chanted motto, followed by a special handshake. They are men who will be boys.) Turk is still married to head nurse Carla (Judy Reyes); they have four daughters, whom we do see, briefly. (J.D.’s appointment rankles Dr. Park, played by Joel Kim Booster, the series’ designated mean person.)
Moving into the space Turk, J.D. and Elliot occupied 25 years earlier are a new crop of interns, bringing youth appeal and naivete (the better to instruct them). Blake (David Gridley) is a cocky know-it-all, who will become a less cocky know-it-not-all; Asher (Jacob Dudman) is British, insecure and attracted to Amara (Layla Mohammadi), who is homeschooled (“I almost won prom queen twice but my brothers voted for my mom”) and a fan of Sam (Ava Bunn), a social media star who hangs her hands like Alexis Rose. Dashana (Amanda Morrow), the serious one, who sees Turk as an ally: “You’re, like, the only Black surgeon in this place; the rest of them just got, like, Coldplay on loop in the ER and say things like, ‘You’re so articulate.’” (“This brother likes Coldplay, too,” says Turk, pressing play on “Clocks.” Another lesson learned.)
As before, the show is fast-paced, packed with asides and ironic cutaways, with jokes riding on the back of jokes and some unexpected slapstick (the best kind), though it will shift into a lower gear when something capital-I important needs to be said. The world has changed in 16 years (“I am now supposed to watch every word that comes out of my mouth because apparently they are all fragile little Christmas ornaments,” grumbles Dr. Cox) and so the risqué material is left to the older characters, though the sex jokes now mostly amount to lack-of-sex jokes. (“She used to get worked up by ‘Bridgerton,’” Turk says of Carla, “but the new season doesn’t come out for another year.” “Spring 2027,” nods J.D.) Monitoring behavior is Vanessa Bayer as Sibby, a tightly wound administrator with an effortful smile, whom Turk calls “the feelings police.” (A longtime favorite of this department, Bayer is a brilliant addition. Told that Tarzan is a fictional character, Sibby replies, “I wouldn’t be so sure. They did make a movie about his life.”)
They say you can’t go home again, but with a good map and a good crew you can get pretty close. Not every bucket drawn up from the well of old IP will prove potable, but it often has: “Arrested Development,” “Veronica Mars,” “Party Down,” “Roseanne/The Conners,” “Frasier,” even “Dallas.” “Twin Peaks: The Return” is, of course, a work of art. Under the watchful eye of creator Bill Lawrence — later to co-create “Ted Lasso,” which is coming back for a fourth season even though it really ended after the third — with Aseem Batra, who wrote for the original series, as showrunner, it is very much the sitcom of old, older. (But everyone still looks good.)
There will undoubtedly be some who find nits to pick, but it’s hard to imagine any less-than-obsessed fans unhappy with this lagniappe, apart from its comparative brevity. And references to the original run notwithstanding — appletinis, “Star Wars,” a certain closet — it’s intelligible and funny on its own terms , and as full of love as ever. “When this work makes you fall apart,” says J.D., narrating, “someone is there to patch you up.”
New viewers will not be shut out.