Why I Love Cobra Kai, Part 1? ๐Ÿฅ‹๐Ÿ
Thoughts From a Quarantine

What do you think?

I first put Cobra Kai on for some visual “white noise while” accomplishing some teacher stuff on my computer. But I would soon thereafter close my MacBook, completely enthralled. I was hooked.

A fan of its original form, I have previously spouted off long-winded explanations about how The Karate Kid is movie perfection. And so much of what I love about the movie does turn up in the series. But I wouldn’t consider this a bias–because of an even more passionate opposing bias. When my brother first told me about it, when it was just a You Tube series, I immediately dismissed it; I immediately ripped it apart. I can’t stand reduxes. It’s infuriating that film and television makers don’t take risks on new ideas and so often seek to exploit nostalgia for profits. So often the opportunity cost is creativity, originality, depth. This tirade was likely followed by a diatribe about how “they” taint these projects by imparting the values of the times–vapidity, short attention span, forced social commentary and millennial-y superficial character development. Art imitates life. So I began watching with these things, in essence, canceling each other out.

But my opinion strikes first, strikes hard and shows no mercy. It’s a force. I once said about a person, โ€œShe doesnโ€™t know her opinion until someone tells her.โ€  This, to me, is a horrible insult.  Usuallyโ€”I know exactly how I feel about somethingโ€”anythingโ€”promptly.  Granted I frolic about the broad expanse of my emotional schema The Sound of Music-style building out my associative quilt of feeling every which way like itโ€™s recreation. But it was a bit of a baffle when I fell in love with this show–quickly and with just minor criticisms. I wanted to learn more about why I loved it. On a worthy mission of metacognition of the heart, I binged it again… for research.

Bromance (The fathers we find.)

Ah, what is life but compensating for what we sought so early in our lives, when it felt like life or death—the safety of unconditional love and acceptance. And both the loss of a parent and neglect on the part of a parent impact the development of our nervous system, leaving us in a state of alarm at a cellular level and leading to all sorts of maladaptive behaviors, ranging from endearing idiosyncrasies to maybe crippling anxiety, depression or addiction. But luckily we all wander about aligning like electron pairs, attempting to fill our needs and each others’ needs.

In the case of The Karate Kid we see Daniel, a fatherless young man in need of guidance and direction, meet Mr. Miyagi, a man whose wife and child died in childbirth. Their relationship deepens as we watch the heartwarming transference. Just one of the satisfying layers of the film, Cobra Kai utilizes this character motivation as well. And why wouldn’t they… it’s irresistible. But this time, it’s Miguel, the fatherless young man who would be Johnny’s star pupil and Robby, Johnny’s own son who has partnered with Daniel LaRusso to get the guidance and direction he needs. Both characters deliver this element with variation, demonstrating the interplay of the cyclical conflicts within the two seasons.

The importance of Father continues for both adult Johnny, who is still working on the damage done by his Stepfather and Sensei Kreese, and adult Daniel, who feels the sharp void of the loss of his mentor and dear friend, Mr. Miyagi. The flashbacks, both from Karate Kid and Johnny’s childhood, help deepen an understanding of the importance of their relationships with the boys.

Multi-generational or “Generationality”

The best television shows offer multi-generational storylines. Neither the kids nor the parents are secondary. And the character development of all characters offer a broad cross-section of viewers access points to be personally connected and entertained. [Good examples of this are the ground-breaking My So-Called Life and, more recently, Stranger Things. My So-Called Life was groundbreaking in respecting the nuance and complexity of adolescence. And though I watched as a teenager, I remember subplots that showed the intricacy of marriage via Angela’s mother and father. And who can deny this similarity… ๐Ÿ˜‚ ]

Blue Eyes Crying In the Rain

In all of these shows, including Cobra Kai, in-depth character and conflict development for both kids and adults enriches all, especially the intersection of both–adding humor and commentary to the mix. We also see a range of relevant issues arise for both age groups–for the teens there’s things like cyberbullying; rumors; the phone, in essence, as another character within the typical coming of age struggles of first love, finding self, and–most importantly–sustaining self within the typical turmoil of the epoch. For adults–family conflicts, balancing work, growing old, feeling out of place in changing world… that no longer appreciates hair metal.

For more on this aspect, see Cobra Kai: Franchise Generationality in the Contemporary Reboot. Glad to see I’m not the only one dissecting this show.

Cobra Kai presents a generational clash informed by a broad understanding of the norms of Generation X and younger millennials… Cobra Kaiโ€™s invocation of the outdated assumptions of an older generation alongside some pernicious aspects of contemporary youth culture is key to its narrative development. Through this self-reflexive approach, the show avoids being constrained by nostalgia and generates enough dramatic storylines and comedic moments to fuel the ten half-hour episodes. 

Source

That’s it for Part 1. Need some more couch time to further my analysis.