Now That 'Scrubs' Is Back, It's Time to Revive Another Comfort TV Classic

Tonight, Scrubs is set to return with most of the original cast (minus Ken Jenkins, Neil Flynn, and the late Sam Lloyd). It’s my all-time favorite broadcast network sitcom, and as I’ve written previously, even if it’s half as good as the original Scrubs, I’ll be tuned in every Wednesday until they yank it off the air.

But J.D. and Turk weren’t the only interracial, heterosexual bromance of the 2000s. There was another mystery comedy built on a similar dynamic that ran for eight seasons and spawned three movies, a show that also boasted genuine, off-screen friendships. That show was Psych, which aired on the USA Network, and that show is also due for a comeback.

We live in chaotic, tumultuous, intensely stressful times, and we could all use not only more comfort television, but television that reminds us of a better America — an America where will.i.am and a bunch of celebrities set a Barack Obama speech to music, an America before doomscrolling, and an America where Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster solved murders every week in episodes that lovingly paid homage to 80s and early 90s movies and genres.

Psych is quintessential comfort television. It’s the perfect junk food — it tastes delicious, but it doesn’t sit too heavily. It’s easy, breezy as hell, and just smart enough that you don’t feel guilty for indulging. And it feels good going down.

For the unfamiliar (what’s wrong with you?), Psych is a throwback to the episodic hour-long, a format that is also making a comeback (see The Pitt). James Roday Rodriguez, who also produced and wrote for the series, plays Shawn Spencer, a “psychic” detective. He’s not actually psychic. Thanks to his hard-ass father, Henry (Corbin Bernsen), Shawn developed razor-sharp observational skills. He’s preternaturally perceptive, which makes him an ideal detective. But because he can’t — or won’t — be a cop, he pretends to be psychic, allowing him to consult for the Santa Barbara Police Department. It’s a scam, but the show is fully self-aware, and Shawn leans into the silliness and sarcasm.

His best friend, Gus (Dulé Hill), serves as the straight man. Gus has a day job in pharmaceutical sales, a detail that becomes increasingly irrelevant as the series progresses. Timothy Omundson plays head detective Carlton Lassiter, the resident skeptic who remains perpetually annoyed at Shawn, no matter how many cases he solves or how often he saves Lassiter’s ass. Maggie Lawson plays Juliet, Lassiter’s partner and Shawn’s eventual love interest (and wife). Kirsten Nelson rounds out the ensemble as the hard-nosed chief, equally exasperated by and grateful for Shawn’s results.

Early in the series, the writers drop a few references to Airwolf and CHiPS. The response must have been encouraging, because the 80s and early 90s callbacks not only multiply but grow increasingly esoteric. The show moves from Judd Nelson nods to Rae Dawn Chong deep cuts, and occasionally lands on an allusion obscure enough that even I have to look it up (Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff, for instance), which is half the fun. Those references feed directly into the Shawn and Gus dynamic, which often feels like the second coming of Zach Braff and Donald Faison in Scrubs.

Because it is a goldmine of 80s nostalgia, Psych also recruits guest stars from the era it celebrates: Cybill Shepherd, Curtis Armstrong, Mackenzie Astin, Rachel Leigh Cook, Jonathan Silverman, Phylicia Rashad, Ernie Hudson, Ally Sheedy, and on and on. The cases themselves are … fine. They’re almost beside the point. The show settles into such a comfortable rhythm that it’s rarely difficult to spot the red herrings and clock the week’s villain. But the mysteries aren’t the engine; they’re the wrapper. The banter is the point. And the formula becomes part of the pleasure — the recurring bits give you something to anticipate each episode (Where’s the pineapple? How will Shawn introduce Gus this time? Which nursery rhyme will get a callback? Who gets to say “murder”?)

Moreover, the fact that Shawn’s psychic abilities are a ruse keeps the show buoyant. Even with at least one homicide per episode, it never tips into dour seriousness. The murders may be grim; the tone never is. It’s light, funny, and soaked in pop-culture allusions without winking so hard it becomes exhausting.

I am not typically one to encourage sequels, reboots, or revivals, but for Psych, I’d make an exception. It’s exactly what we need right now. Universal owns the rights, most of the cast appears available (Maggie Lawson is on the Blue Bloods spin-off, but schedules can be managed, and Timothy Omundson has largely recovered from his stroke), and there’s no obvious reason not to revive a beloved, relatively inexpensive hour-long mystery-comedy — one that, to my recollection, comes without cancellations, landmines, or narrative dead ends preventing it from picking up right where the last Psych movie leaves off.