Genre: TV Series – Drama
About: While companies like Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu have made high profile splashes with budgets that rival those of studio films, YouTube has released a bunch of no-budget pre-teen content that even pre-teens think is lame. But with the announcement of Cobra Kai, a TV sequel to the 1984 phenomenon, The Karate Kid, the online channel finally found themselves a buzz worthy program. The show was so well thought of within the company, YouTube put together a giant advertising campaign for it. The show comes from creator Jon Hurwitz, best known for writing the Harold and Kumar movies. Hurwitz is a giant Karate Kid fan, and thought he could bring something fresh to the property. The first 2 episodes of the season are free on YouTube now. If you want to continue watching the series after that, you need to sign up for YouTube’s premium service, YouTube Red.
Writers: Jon Hurwitz, Hayden Schlossberg, and Josh Heald (based on characters created by Robert Mark Kamen)
Details: Episodes are about 25 minutes long
When I first heard they were making a Karate Kid sequel in the form of a TV show, I curled up into a fetal position, shook my head… before leaping back up in the air, doing a crane kick, and screaming “HِِELL YES!!!”
The Karate Kid is one of the most iconic examples of a movie that shouldn’t have worked but did. It was cheesy, even by 80s standards. It was formulaic. The villain had as much depth as a frying pan. Even the title was stupid. “The Karate Kid.” Wow, bet that took a long time to think up.
But Holy Max Headroom did it work.
Why did it work? Because it got the key characters, as well as the key relationship in the screenplay, right. The smartest move Robert Mark Kamden made was making Daniel LaRusso a fighter from the start. Any other writer would’ve made Daniel a wimp. That’s the obvious choice. Since he will become a champion in the end – logically – we must make him the opposite of that at the beginning. But Daniel stands up to Johnny several times before he’s learned a lick of karate. That singular choice made us fall in love with Daniel immediately.
In addition to that, The Karate Kid nails one of the most effective story devices in movies – the hero-mentor dynamic. Every relationship in movies, whether it be love, family, work, or friendship, must begin with a level of conflict that makes us doubt that that conflict will be resolved. That’s why we want to watch. We want to see if there will be that resolution. Mr. Miagi’s kooky teachings combined with Daniel’s earnest impatience make for one hell of a friendship.
This is something all screenwriters need to tattoo onto their brains. If you can get the main characters in your script right as well as the main relationships? You don’t need to ace the rest of the test.
If The Karate Kid had an Achilles’ heel, it was its villain, Johnny. While memorable, he’s quite possibly the thinnest villain of the entire decade. I mean, he didn’t even have a last name. He’s just, “Johnny.” Which is why it’s so ironic that they’ve brought this story back from Johnny’s perspective.
That choice is nothing short of genius. I’d go so far as to say if they would’ve brought this show back through Daniel’s eyes, I wouldn’t have cared. Think about that for a second because it’s something I talk about a lot here. You have a choice as to whose point of view you’re going to tell a story from. And the most obvious point of view (in this case, Daniel) isn’t always the best.
Generally speaking, stories tend to be more interesting when someone is at the bottom as opposed to at the top. Daniel is at the top now (he has a thriving car dealership) and Johnny is at the bottom (he never amounted to anything). So it makes sense that we tell the story through his eyes.
The first two episodes of The Karate Kid follow Johnny, still living in the valley, as he navigates a series of contractor jobs.
After Johnny gets fired off one of these jobs (for calling the house owner a bitch) he gets a lucky break when his step-father gives him a small chunk of money. Johnny decides to bet it all on a new karate dojo. But not just any dojo. He’s bringing back “Cobra Kai,” the infamous dojo that wreaked havoc on the valley (and on Daniel LaRusso) so many years ago.
Johnny finds his first student in a “Daniel LaRusso” like teen who Iives in Johnny’s shitty apartment complex. Johnny fashions Cobra Kai as a return to basics. There’s no social justice here. No safe spaces. No asthma inhalers. Johnny’s going to show his students how to be tough again.
Meanwhile, when Daniel hears of the return of Cobra Kai, he pays Johnny a visit, encouraging him to rethink his decision. The place was such a negative cloud over the valley in the 80s, you could argue it was the main reason for the smog. Johnny tells him fat chance. This is the new reality. Daniel’s just living in it.
What I loved about these first two episodes was that head writer Jon Hurwitz understands the delicate balance that is The Karate Kid. For example, the new featured kid character, Miguel, is like a mini-Daniel. We see him immediately attempt to approach a pretty girl at school, showing that he’s not your average wimpy dork.
Hurwitz balances this out with the hilarious cheesiness of the property, giving us a classic Johnny late night ride through the valley, complete with angst-ridden music and a flashback montage to Johnny’s high school days.
But what really sold me is how brave this new version of the property is. It centers around its most unlikable character in Johnny, a mentor who’s the total opposite of what made the property so famous – the unorthodox but warm approach of Mr. Miagi. I wouldn’t say that Johnny is Trump Jr. But he certainly represents that MAGA mindset.
For those of you worried that this is a nostalgia bomb, well, um, duh. But not as much as you’d expect. This is due to the above-mentioned setup, which places our characters in roles that are virtually the opposite of how we originally met them.
Wth that said, if I were pushed into admitting my biggest worry about the show, it would be Daniel. His current motivation is the weakest of all the characters. He wants to stop Cobra Kai because it’s “dangerous.” Come on. Do we really believe a tiny karate dojo in a strip mall in the valley is going to do measurable damage to the community? Yet Daniel seems very concerned.
Measure that against Johnny’s motivation, which is iron tight. He needs this business to survive so that he can survive.
The significance of this imbalance is that a lot of emphasis is being placed on Daniel “stopping” Johnny. And while, of course, I would love to see them have a karate-off in the season finale, those moments only work when the motivations on both sides are sound. If Daniel’s only trying to stop Johnny because the writer needs him to, it will feel false. Once the truth of a moment is lost, that moment will always feel like it’s missing something.
I suppose they’re hoping we shift our focus to whether Johnny can navigate the minefield that is raising a family. THAT becomes his main conflict in the show, and Cobra Kai stays in the background. But I can get father-daughter family drama every night from 7-10 on the CW if I so please. The strange attractor here is the karate and the weird complex relationship between Johnny and Daniel. So I hope they figure out a way to make that believable.
Whatever the case, it’s a great sign when a company is so confident in its product that they give you the first episode (or in this case, the first two episodes) for free. They figure they as good as have your money if you watch the pilot. And you know what? They’re right. I just signed up.
[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the price of YouTube Red
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I Learned: A character’s motivation is the key towards portraying them in an honest way. If we don’t feel like a character is pursuing his goal because he needs to, you haven’t correctly identified their motivation. Daniel wanting to take down Cobra Kai because he didn’t like a gang of bullies in it from 30 years ago is movie logic, not real life logic, and is currently the show’s only weak link.