Scrubs Review: ABC Revival Taps Into What Made The Early Seasons Special Without Coasting On Nostalgia

"Scrubs" was my introduction to single-camera comedy — a show that stood in stark contrast to the brighter, laugh track-heavy multi-cams I'd grown up on. I didn't have the language for that distinction at the time, but the show was the first to make me aware of what a comedy could feel like when actors weren't playing for immediate audience feedback.

But what set "Scrubs" apart wasn't just its style; it was how effortlessly it could shift from silliness to emotional honesty. At its best, the funniest show on TV could pivot on a dime and become the most sincere drama in primetime.

I came to the series in syndication during high school and quickly tore through the remainder of its NBC run, catching up in time to watch Season 8 — what was believed to be the show's final season — as it aired on ABC. Viewed in that context, its pitch-perfect finale, culminating in J.D. fantasizing about his future as Peter Gabriel's rendition of "The Book of Love" played, felt like a definitive ending.

In retrospect, that accelerated viewing experience explains why I didn't fully clock that by Season 5, "Scrubs" had begun drifting from what once made it feel unlike anything else on TV. The drama receded, the zaniness was dialed up, and the characters — J.D. most of all — edged toward caricature. Season 8 was such a confident return to form that those missteps were easy to forgive — which is why, revisiting the series ahead of its revival, Season 9 landed very differently than it once had.

Viewed through a generous lens, "Scrubs" Season 9 made a certain amount of sense. At the time, series creator Bill Lawrence explained that it was conceived as a spin-off, "Scrubs Med," but in the age of DVRs, ABC didn't want to risk retitling a show it had only picked up a year prior. Keeping it going also meant continued employment for much of the crew.

But rewatching that med school year ahead of the show's 2026 return was jarring. While the performances from the newcomers were terrific — there's a reason Kerry Bishé, Dave Franco, and Michael Mosley have continued to pop up across TV and film ever since — the legacy characters felt like shells of their former selves. All the growth J.D. experienced by the end of Season 8 — finally earning Dr. Cox's long-withheld approval — was discarded in favor of whatever felt funniest in the moment. At this point, I can't imagine going back to Season 9.

That brings me to "Scrubs" Season 10 — or, as ABC is contractually obligated to refer to it, "Scrubs (2026)" Season 1, which kicks off Wednesday, February 25 (at 8/7c). I've seen the first four episodes — roughly half of the nine-episode order — and the series returns to Sacred Heart as if the hospital were never torn down and that med school detour never happened. More importantly, it feels like "Scrubs" again — and for all the reasons Season 9 didn't work, Season 10 does.

First and foremost, this revival is about J.D., not a new generation of interns. And unlike most sequel series, which coast on nostalgia, these episodes don't play like a greatest hits compilation (though I wouldn't mind if Turk broke out his "Poison" dance at some point). ABC has been hammering viewers with a promo in which Turk throws out his back while he and J.D. attempt their first eagle in years. It happens early in the pilot, and it serves as a clear signal that this revival isn't pretending these characters have been frozen in amber since we last saw them 16 years ago. They still look spectacular, but they've aged considerably, and that reality becomes the entry point into this more mature version of the show.

J.D. and Turk haven't worked together since J.D.'s initial departure from Sacred Heart in Season 8. That separation means J.D. may not be fully prepared for the ways time has weathered his best friend. Time has also taken its toll on Dr. Cox, whose old-school teaching methods no longer pass muster with human resources head Sibby, played by franchise newcomer (and all-around great comedian) Vanessa Bayer. Robert Maschio's The Todd is also back, still the same high-fiving pervert you remember — just more self-aware.

Making the characters more conscious of their crude behavior and folding that awareness into the storytelling works to the show's benefit. Times have changed, particularly around gender politics, and smart writers can walk that line without neutering the characters. Under OG "Scrubs" writer Aseem Batra — whom viewers may also remember as "fun-size intern" Josephine, and who now serves as showrunner — this revival proves they can.

But the main reason these new episodes work is that they don't erase J.D.'s growth the way Season 9 did. His distance from friends like Turk and Carla, the evolution of his relationship with Elliot, and his time away from Sacred Heart are baked into the present-day version of our perpetually daydreaming protagonist, especially in his interactions with the interns. Zach Braff strikes just the right balance between the in-over-his-head J.D. we knew and loved, and a man who has shed some of the naiveté of the original run.

Without giving anything away, Episode 2 features a moment when the old J.D. would have run straight to Dr. Cox for guidance. Instead, he realizes he no longer needs his mentor in the same way he once did. That's the moment that made me genuinely excited for what comes next.

As for the rest of the legacy cast, Donald Faison is particularly great in the pilot when J.D. confronts Turk about a gnarly case of burnout. Sarah Chalke's gift for physical comedy remains fully intact, but it's when Elliot wades into more emotional territory in Episodes 2 and 3 that she truly shines. She and Faison share one of my favorite scenes in Episode 2 — second only to a moment between Braff and John C. McGinley in the pilot. There's also a particularly savage Dr. Cox rant aimed at one of the newbies that serves as a reminder that McGinley is one of the best to ever do it.

Judy Reyes has slightly less to do — she was effectively moonlighting on the revival, which shot in Vancouver, while still committed to her series-regular role on ABC's "High Potential," which films in Los Angeles — but Carla is a warm and welcome presence in the first and third episodes. (Hearing her call J.D. "Bambi" again gave me goosebumps.) Phill Lewis is also back as Hooch — because "Hooch is crazy," and no one was ever going to tell that man to leave.

When it comes to the newbies, none of them are as clearly defined — at least not yet — as the med students introduced in Season 9. Like in Season 8, which first brought Eliza Coupe's Denise into the fold alongside a class that included a pre-"Parks and Recreation" Aziz Ansari, the new interns here function more as part of the ecosystem than the engine.

Amanda Morrow is an early standout as Dashana, a surgical intern working under Turk. Ava Bunn shows sharp comic timing as social media-obsessed Tosh, while Jacob Dudman and Layla Mohammadi lend an endearing sincerity to Asher and Amara. David Gridley also makes an impression as the distractingly handsome Blake, though he's given the least to do of the five.

Perhaps the most promising addition, though, is Joel Kim Booster as attending physician Dr. Eric Park, positioned as a new foil for J.D.

One more element worth mentioning: the music. The soundtrack was a defining part of the original run, and there's a feel-good needle drop toward the end of Episode 1 that briefly transports the series back to the mid-2000s. It's about as nostalgia-baity as the revival gets — and it works.

THE TVLINE BOTTOM LINE: This is a revival with real purpose — and, for the most part, the one fans have been hoping for ever since Lazlo Bane's "Superman" last kicked off an episode of "Scrubs." Yes, the original theme song is back. But more importantly, so is the heart.