Over the course of the next few months, many of us at TVOvermind will be participating in our summer rewatch project and reviewing some of our favorite series of all-time that have left a major stamp on television and pop culture in general. One of the shows Randy Dankievitch will be taking a look back at is “Scrubs,” which ran from 2001-2010 on NBC and ABC.
There aren’t many shows you can call “one of a kind,” especially in the world of television. Nearly fourteen years after its debut, however, Scrubs remains one of the most unique shows ever, even though its constructed out of very familiar parts. In fact, since its debut in October of 2001, I can think of exactly one show that falls into the genre of medical workplace comedy Scrubs essentially created: NBC’s failed 2011 series Animal Practice. But even that show failed to capture the quirkiness of Scrubs, the mix of weird, heartwarming, and tragic that made it one of TV’s greatest comedies.
The most striking thing about revisiting “My First Day” is how haphazardly put together it feels. Scrubs is a careful balancing act between humor and drama, between physical comedy and emotional trauma – and in “My First Day,” Scrubs‘ voice feels anything but fully-formed. Detailing J.D.’s first 12-hour shift at Sacred Heart, “My First Day” struggles under the weight of introducing so many sharply-defined characters and trying to tell a deeply meaningful, audience-grabbing story. Its attempts to feel familiar to the audience undercut the quirky personality that would come to define the show, and remains very much obvious in the pilot, for experienced Scrubs watchers knowing what to look for.
In a way, though, that unorganized feel of “My First Day” adds an extra dash to the chaotic tone Bill Lawrence’s script is trying to convey. The whole point of the episode is to overwhelm J.D., and by having the show take place in quasi-first person, that overwhelming feeling naturally transfers to the audience. Characters like Carla and Dr. Kelso, whose influence on Bambi’s first day weigh the heaviest, are the easiest to understand by the end of the pilot. The contrast in J.D.’s interactions with them reveal two veterans of the hospital toughened by the world they live in, representing both the human and inhumane elements of a hospital staff.
Those three characters – Carla, Kelso, and J.D. – are really the tent poles of the pilot. Even though J.D.’s relationships with Turk and Dr. Cox would come to define the series, his best friend and mentor are each only given a few scenes to establish themselves, and J.D.’s relationships with them don’t come to life as much. Cox is particularly hard to nail down; as a byproduct of a pilot focusing on other characters, Cox’s behavior isn’t given the context it will be later in the show, which for first time viewers, must make him such a difficult character to watch. Even though it’s ultimately revealed that Cox is the “good guy” and Kelso the “bad guy,” the argument for this is really only conveyed through Kelso screaming in J.D.’s face; Cox refusing to pat J.D. on the back is a nice touch, but more of a suggestion towards a depth of character rather than anything actually explored in this episode. Cox’s other scenes mostly existing to nail down that he is full of himself and talks a lot; they hardly paint him as the show’s most empathetic character, which is exactly what Cox would quickly grow to become.
“My First Day” also suffers from the “will they, won’t they” bug that brings down Elliot’s character; aside from her getting dressed down by Carla, Elliot is mostly introduced through her own exposition – and while Scrubs always prided itself on showing and telling, the telling in this episode feels like a perfunctory checklist of character traits, which don’t remain consistent through the episode. Elliot agrees to go on a date with J.D., then sells him out to Kelso when J.D. gets stuck. They argue in the supply closet after wimping out on their first red code, then she kisses him on the cheek at the end of the day and apologizes; as a character who was already going through changes (Lawrence notes on the DVD commentary they decided to make her less mean and more neurotic early on), Elliot is hard to understand in this first episode, which makes her ever-shifting dynamic with J.D. even harder to comprehend.
Yet where Scrubs is a bit of a mess on a character level, it succeeds in doing two things very well: introducing us to the weird world it would become through its secondary characters, and giving us a strong emotional thoroughline to “buy into” the show, something most comedies, especially single-cam, greatly struggle with feeling natural. The former quality is probably the most interesting to study – Ted, Todd, and Janitor all give such great color and atmosphere to the world of Sacred Heart, making it really feel like a lived-in setting – but the latter of which is one of the most amazing things about Scrubs: its ability to use humor for emotionally devastating storytelling, the kind of which is not often seen on any type of comedy. Scrubs never forgets it takes place in a hospital, where doctors are fighting against the inevitable, and tragedy strikes more often than not; Mr. Burski’s death is hardly an impactful one in a larger sense, but J.D.’s inability to reconcile his sudden departure is the pilot’s most raw emotional moment, and one that reveals exactly how Scrubs was going to be a different kind of medical show, and comedy. After all, shows like ER and the like always built up to a happy ending or a tragedy; in “My First Day,” Mr. Burski dies off-screen in his sleep, removing the melodrama and the agency from its main characters hands. Having no control over his life, as afraid as he was to have it, is a powerful realization for J.D. as a doctor, and a human being.
From there, “My First Day” ends a lot closer to the show Scrubs would become, then where it started only fifteen minutes earlier. While processing Burski’s death, J.D. gets a visit from Turk, who reveals that his confidence, just like J.D.’s lack of it, comes from a place of fear. “I need you,” he tells J.D., the life-affirming moment that he’s been seeking for the whole episode; and with that emotional support behind him, J.D. finds a ‘second wind’ to make it through the day. The episode then ends, with J.D. having a moment with each new member of his medical family, processing the events of the previous 12 hours as he recovers from finally being able to touch a patient, saving a life mere hours after helplessly losing another. Those final moments aren’t bombastic or preachy, despite J.D.’s voice overs; he simply realizes that “I can’t survive on my own,” and even having his best friend for the past decade along for the ride isn’t going to be enough. He’ll have to trust the strangers around him (well, maybe not the threatening janitor) to survive in a world where tragedy is guaranteed and hope is a sharp double-edged sword, lest he want to spend his life walking into doors and stressing about worst case scenarios.
Scrubs‘ pilot may not be a perfect one, but those final few minutes foster the atmosphere and emotional pull that would prove to be so crucial throughout the show’s run. For all of the flaws in “My First Day,” those key components are alive and thriving – and it wouldn’t take long for Scrubs to build a world around those strengths, creating one of the funniest, most criminally underrated comedies NBC (or any other channel, for that matter) has ever aired, a show that remains one of my personal favorites, nearly a decade and a half since this episode first aired.
Other thoughts/observations:
– Welcome to Scrubs reviews! This is a show I’ve wanted to write about for years, so I’m particularly excited to cover Bill Lawrence’s classic little gem.
– Todd High Five Count: 3, all of which come in the same scene.
– A few great “B Team” members are introduced: Ted, The Todd, and Janitor are all introduced throughout the episode. Ted’s flop sweat remains a particular highlight.
– Resident Dr. Jeff Steadman: “I’m a tool, I’m a tool, I’m a tool, tool, tool.”
– “Your butt looks like two Pringles hugging.” Is that a compliment?
– Dr. Cox, about administering Tylenol: “Here’s what you do. Get her to open her mouth, take a handful, and throw it at her. Whatever sticks, that’s the correct dosage.”
– Carla has Turk strip naked in the on call room, then leaves him there as a tease. This shows the fun side; her rant towards Elliot shows the uglier side, the one the show would unfortunately rely on a lot more in later seasons.
– Scrubs‘ first cutaway is J.D. racing Elliot, dumping coffee on his face, and running to Cheap Trick’s “I Want You To Want Me.”
– Director Adam Bernstein does a terrific job shooting this pilot, even outside the trademark shot of J.D. holding his head while the hospital speeds around him.
– The sound editing is classic early Scrubs: whip pans and goofy sound effects galore.
– “Worst case scenario, you kill someone. Absolute worst case.”
All nine seasons of Scrubs are available to stream on Netflix.
[Photo via NBC]
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