
‘Cobra Kai’ still rules
As the first part of season six hits Netflix, we take a look back at the "Karate Kid" sequel
From left, Ralph Macchio and William Zabka as Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence in "Cobra Kai."
Courtesy of Netflix
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
Forty years since it first began, the Karate Kid franchise is still going strong with Cobra Kai, whose latest installment—the first five episodes of its three-part, 15-episode final season—has just hit Netflix. After the remaining episodes of season six arrive in November and early 2025, the legacy sequel will bid its viewers farewell, as Daniel LaRusso actor Ralph Macchio gears up to lead yet another film in the saga (his first since 1989), a revival no doubt made possible by the series' success. For those who grew up on the original movie, in which Macchio played a scrawny teenage underdog, the fact that he's now 62 years old can feel disorienting. However, putting the passage of time into perspective is something at which the show excels.
For those unfamiliar with Cobra Kai: the show kicked off 34 years after the events of The Karate Kid (helmed by Rocky director John G. Avildsen), but turned the original premise on its head. The once-heroic "Daniel-san" was now a bougie San Fernando Valley car salesman, who used his image as a former fighting champ as a cheap marketing gimmick. Meanwhile, his former bully Johnny Lawrence (William Zabka)—the show's ostensible protagonist—was a down-on-his-luck loser living in his car. As the years went by, the two reignited their mat rivalry, albeit as dojo senseis with a new cast of kids in tow. Along the way, they drew from the teachings of their respective masters: the late Mr. Miyagi (Pat Morita), whose lessons of spiritual balance Daniel still tries to achieve, and the ruthless John Kreese (Martin Kove), who returns in the flesh to indoctrinate Johnny and his students in the merciless way of the fist.
By the end of season five, practically every character from Daniel's trilogy had returned alongside their original actors, with each one serving a distinct purpose that spoke to the complex nature of nostalgia: as a force as alluring as it is dangerous and debilitating. When season six begins, Daniel finds himself in an uneasy partnership with not one, but three of his former foes: Johnny from the first film, a reformed Chozen Toguchi (Yuji Okumoto) from the second, and the hair-trigger Mike "Karate's Bad Boy" Barnes (Sean Kanan) from the third, a trio whose perspectives constantly clash as they train their teenage pupils. Kreese is still the series' main antagonist, but he doesn't cross paths with the heroes in these first five episodes. Now a convict on the run, he bides his time in South Korea while reconnecting with his roots, alongside season five antagonist Kim Da-eun (Alicia Hannah-Kim), the granddaughter of his former master.

From left, Alicia Hannah-Kim and Martin Kove as antagonists Kim Da-eun and John Kreese in "Cobra Kai."
Courtesy of Netflix
The biggest villain, in these initial chapters, is the weight of the past. Not only do the four senseis fail to fully put aside their old tensions, but the kid characters find themselves in dramatic stalemate too. Johnny's once-estranged son Robby Keene (Tanner Buchanan) and his stepson Miguel Diaz (Xolo Maridueña) are finally friends, though their jabs at one another seem like they could reignite the duo's long-standing rivalry at any time. Making matters worse is the fact their respective girlfriends, the hot-headed Tory Nichols (Peyton List) and the silver-spooned Sam LaRusso (Mary Mouser)—each of whom has dated both boys at some point—have only just begun putting aside their differences.
The teen characters were, until recently, divided between three dojos with wildly different approaches: Daniel's altruistic Miyagi-Do, Johnny's rock-and-roll Eagle Fang Karate, and Kreese's vicious Cobra Kai, but the new season sees them all under the same umbrella for the very first time. Not only do the kids and adults need to find a new name and logo for their dojo, as their train for the Sekai Taikai—a fictitious international karate tournament—but they have to figure out how to balance each disparate philosophy too.

In addition to the adult characters, the teen characters in "Cobra Kai" go through their own drama.
Courtesy of Netflix
Despite being rooted in a film franchise in which Miyagi-Do both rescued and liberated Daniel, Cobra Kai doesn't treat it as the be-all and end-all of martial arts. Each character is, in their own way, correct, which makes their season-long arcs unfold in dynamic fashion. Pit any two supporting characters against one another—like when gymnast and karate newcomer Devon Lee (Oona O'Brien) fights for a spot on the Sekai Taikai team against Kenny Payne (Dallas Dupree Young), a smaller boy trying to escape being bullied—and it becomes hard not root for both of them. Everyone has something righteous to prove, and depending on who's who, the right answer may lie with a different sensei's teachings.
This culminates in an emotionally charged subplot that takes a huge narrative swing, but it pays off in spades while setting up the remaining season in propulsive fashion. Without giving too much away, it delves into the thorny question of whether Kreese's teachings—cruel and self-destructive though they may be—might have an emotional advantage over Mr. Miyagi's, as an outlet for grief and festering rage. It's the equivalent of a modern Star Wars story giving the edge to the dark side, though Cobra Kai does what Disney's Star Wars legacy sequels have repeatedly failed to. Rather than resting on its laurels and using familiar iconography as a simple answer, it turns it into a question with no neat solution. It finds a balance between new and old by exploring each one through a brand-new lens, and frames nostalgia as both motivation and emotional poison. Danny and Johnny are, after all, men in arrested development still trying to grow past the defining events of their childhood, and the gnawing issue of their class differences (and those of their respective students) also comes into play, forming a wedge between them.

From left, William Zabka, Sean Kanan and Ralph Macchio have all reprised their "Karate Kid" roles in "Cobra Kai."
Courtesy of Netflix
Nothing from the original Karate Kid movies is sacrosanct—not even the iconic Mr. Miyagi, whose kindly demeanor is finally challenged this season, when Daniel discovers unsavory elements about his teacher's past. This by no means impacts the grace with which Morita approached his iconic character, but upon learning more about Miyagi's youth, Daniel is forced to confront not only his master's imperfections, but his own.
These sort of emotional dilemmas are what ultimately make the action worthwhile. Cobra Kai is an all-ages show, so it doesn't get too bloody or violent, but its sparring is always shot with visual and emotional clarity, which allows us to not only see each physical movement in unbroken takes, but allows us to latch on to the impetus behind each decision or hesitation. Sometimes, a silent glance is all you need to understand where a character might be coming from when they do something seemingly irrational—which is the basis for good drama in a live-action show that resembles a sports anime. In Cobra Kai, karate is the default language these characters speak, whether to achieve new goals, or to sort out old rivalries that have been around since 1984. Not every viewer is a martial artist, but the series makes each dramatic beat so amply clear that it's impossible not to get on board with every character's objective on some level. It's the kind of show that makes you root for everyone at all times—even when they're up against each other, which makes its story all the more enthralling.
Published on July 19, 2024
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
Siddhant Adlakha is a critic and filmmaker from Mumbai, though he now lives in New York City. They're more similar than you'd think. Find him at @SiddhantAdlakha on Twitter