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This is a bold statement, but I’ll bet that, between 1984 and 1987, a vast majority of kids were Daniel LaRusso for Halloween. I know I was at least twice: once after the first Karate Kid film and again after the second. I personally spent multiple summers sporting my Daniel-san karate headband and begging my parents to put me in karate lessons so I could feel more confident fighting the Johnny Lawrences in my life.
That’s a lot to build on, particularly considering that Cobra Kai hit Netflix over 30 years after the original movie. (Yes, I spot-checked for gray hairs after crunching those numbers.) Like so many men who, as little boys, spent one summer after another working on their crane kicks in the backyard, I’m now a father. I have three kids, two girls and a boy. And the question I asked myself as I turned on the first season of Cobra Kai was this: “What do Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence have to offer me now?”
After five seasons, I’ve found a few very good answers to that question. First, I learned to love Johnny Lawrence, a character who, when I was a child, seemed to represent every single bully I ever encountered. I don’t want to speak for all children of the ’80s, but I loved to hate Johnny, with his Firebird and gang of friends and slick California blond-haired good looks. So I was surprised and excited to see his character become somewhat of a tragic hero in Cobra Kai, trying to make ends meet, still stuck in his high school karate glory, but also willing to help kids in the Valley fight their physical and emotional demons. I watched and learned that Daniel became, in a lot of ways, exactly what he battled against growing up: a slightly stuck-up rich adult living on the nice side of town.
But catching up vicariously with my old friends Johnny and Daniel isn’t what’s kept me watching Cobra Kai for five freaking seasons. What’s kept me hooked is Johnny and Daniel’s struggle with their roles as fathers. The relationships they have with their children are heartwarming and wholesome while simultaneously messy in the only way parenting can be.
For the first four seasons, Johnny has a terrible relationship with his son, Robby. And honestly, considering the backstory of Johnny’s alcoholism and poor life choices, it’s easy to see why. Yet he wants to rebuild. Sure, he messes up along the way, a number of times. But he also succeeds, having brief moments when he slowly begins to look like the father he wants to be, the father Robby needs him to be. And that back and forth, that waxing on and off in their relationship had me on the edge of my seat much more than any of the end-of-season karate battle royales. And it made the fourth season all the more satisfying when the ice begins to melt ever so slightly, and the two share an embrace in the dojo. Please don’t get me wrong — Johnny Lawrence is no Danny Tanner. He’s a gruff, hypermasculine, stuck-in-the-’80s mess of a dude. But that’s what makes him relatable, and his mistakes are what make him human. His willingness to try to make amends and explore his frailties as a father is what makes him memorable.
Meanwhile, Daniel, with his huge home on the nice side of town and car dealership and success, is still stuck in his karate glory days. He strives to strike the right balance between being a good surrogate father to the kids in his dojo and being a dependable father to Samantha and Anthony. But just as when he was a teen, he has this enormous heart that does him as much harm as good.
One of the hardest parts of being a dad is trying and failing and realizing you have no choice but to try again. I spend so much time feeling like I’ve got the answers to my kids’ problems, only to realize that their issues are very different from the ones I faced at their age. Or I realize that I may have a solution, but my kids are going to have to find that answer themselves, and it’s my job to give them the space they need to find it. I can see this same interplay of answer, solution, failure and success playing out in each season of Cobra Kai. Watching Daniel and his family go through that makes me feel less alone in my struggle to raise good kids.
Are Johnny and Daniel amazing fathers? Well... are any of us? Do any fathers get it right 100% of the time? I personally feel like I blow it equally as much as I get it right. Seeing Johnny and Daniel fumble in their roles as dads, getting knocked down, picking themselves up and trying again, is exactly the kind of real-world parenting we need to see on the screen.
Yes, Cobra Kai is at times over the top. Yes, it’s a comedy drama with an emphasis on drama and spin kicks. But Johnny and Dannel are trying, succeeding, failing and everything in between as they work to be the best dads they can be. That’s what draws me in, season after season. That’s what this reboot of an ’80s classic brings to me, as someone who was obsessed with The Karate Kid who is now a father. It’s the simple confirmation that fatherhood is messy, but the effort — the never giving up — is what really matters.