Originally published in print November 2020.
It seemed like, for all of last summer, you couldn’t move anywhere on YouTube without being greeted by an ad for Cobra Kai. It felt inescapable, and so I wrote it off in annoyance. YouTube as a vehicle for original content seemed then, and still does, like an unlikely cash-grab in an attempt to copy Netflix’s million dollar model of original streaming content. On top of that, to me, most revivals of beloved eighties and nineties properties come off as merely mining the depths of your nostalgia for a quick buck; Terminator Genisys, Alien: Covenant, and, yes, even Mary Poppins Returns spring to mind. And so, Cobra Kai slipped from my cultural awareness.
Until, one evening, after introducing my girlfriend to the joys of the original 1984 Karate Kid, we were searching for something to watch together. With the first two seasons of Cobra Kai added to Netflix, we decided to give it a go. To put it simply, I was blown away. This was unlike any other revival of a classic franchise I had ever seen.
Cobra Kai is a sequel to the original trilogy of Karate Kid films, and stars Ralph Macchio and William Zabka in their original roles as Daniel LaRusso and Johnnie Lawrence respectively, 34 years on. While Robert Mark Karmen – the creator of the original trilogy – is not involved in the making of the series, Macchio and Zabka also serve as co-executive producers of the show, carrying on the legacy of the original.
Cobra Kai parallels a lot of Karate Kid’s story beats. However, instead of presenting a face-lifted retelling of the source material in an attempt to assuage fas of the original a la The Force Awakens, Cobra Kai instead uses its new protagonist to grow and expand on the themes and ideas that Karate Kid espoused back in ’84.
The narrative of the show focuses on a rudderless Johnny, now a washed up alcoholic struggling to make ends meet, instead of the plucky Daniel of the films, who now heads a successful auto dealership in Reseda.
Johnny’s saving of Miguel (Xolo Maridueña) from bullies is of course meant to parallel Daniel’s being saved by Mr. Miyagi from a similar situation in the film. Far from being a clone of the original, Cobra Kai instead diversifies its narrative by examining the impact of the film’s legacy on the character’s lives, and the emotional impact Karate Kid’s narrative had on them. Cobra Kai forces all of the characters, especially Johnny, to confront the trauma of their pasts, something not at all touched upon in the films. We finally see the deep scars that training under Sensei Kreese (Martin Kove) left on Johnny’s psyche, something he now has to deal with and try to overcome.
Where Karate Kid was a traditional underdog story, Cobra Kai uses its slick fight scenes and impressive camera work to underscore a powerful narrative about redemption and hope. Unlike other revivals of nostalgic properties like the Star Wars sequel trilogy, whose narrative focuses on passing the torch to a new generation, Cobra Kai also allows for legacy characters to grow and develop into more than just figureheads. The contrast of opposites is what makes Cobra Kai so wonderful in this regard. Johnny has to step out from the shadow of what he learned in the 80s and address both the pain he has inflicted and received, and to do this he needs to create a new world, a space in which he can teach and help others grow in a way he never had himself.
Cobra Kai is the perfect example of how a revival show should be done. It demonstrates the perfect amount of respect for the original property, while also growing and expanding on its themes. It successfully balances development for returning franchise characters along with setting up a new generation of karate kicking heroes to root for. It’s got pathos, guts and heart, and draws you in with an engaging narrative.
Cobra Kai is one of the best pieces of television I’ve seen recently, revival or otherwise, and I encourage both fans of Karate Kid and newcomers to the series to give it a go. I promise you won’t regret it.
