If you live in Texas, you probably have a complicated relationship with the state. As in: You love Willie Nelson, but you hate Ted Cruz. You’re proud of Buddy Holly, but then you remember Joe Rogan moved here and started talking like he invented barbecue. We gave the world Beyoncé, Selena, and Wes Anderson — but we also gave the world Alex Jones, Ken Paxton, and Joel Osteen.
Lately, most Texas headlines read like a dystopian comedy written by someone who hates women, minorities, and the concept of basic decency. We’ve got abortion bans that kill people, gerrymandered districts that look like abstract art made of spite, and the triumphant return of Confederate names nobody asked for. If Texas were a person, it’d be the relative you still invite to Thanksgiving but politely ignore after beer #3.
And yet, there’s still stuff worth loving. Which brings us to this month’s rare good news: The “King of the Hill” reboot is here, all 10 episodes are on Hulu, and it’s good.
It’s the first time in 16 years we’ve gotten new episodes of the most Texas show ever made. For the uninitiated, the show follows propane salesman Hank Hill and his wife Peggy, a substitute teacher, in the fictional town of Arlen. The original series, which ran from 1997 to 2009, ended after Fox unceremoniously cancelled it.
The reboot finds an older Hank (who still has a narrow urethra) and Peggy Hill back in Arlen after a stint in Saudi Arabia selling propane and propane accessories (upon their return to Texas, Hank immediately kisses the airport carpet).
Making everyone older, an unusual move for an animated series, allows new life to be breathed into the show.
Hank and Peggy are struggling to adapt to retirement. He’s still into household chores, ands he’s mainlining reality shows. Bobby is now a 20-something running a German-Asian fusion restaurant and has somehow grown into the best version of himself.
Bill is a shut-in, Dale is still a paranoid conspiracy theorist, and Boomhauer still talks an iconic mile a minute.
And while revivals can be hit or miss, this one is a hit. The premiere brought 4.4 million views to Hulu and Disney+, making it the most-viewed adult animated season premiere across both platforms in five years. As of Wednesday, the new season was sitting at a 98% on Rotten Tomatoes.
As IGN said, the show “recaptures the unassuming and understated brilliance of the previous seasons, all while doubling down on the heart that helped make the show the touchstone it is.”
And boy, did the reboot have a lot to live up to, because the original has already reached legendary status.
Texas Monthly called it “the most significant work of Texas culture in the past 30 years.”
That’s because the show knows Texas on a granular level. Back in the day, it did a tribute to Wichita Falls, which is like making a song about your third-favorite cousin. But they got it right, expertly noting that, near the Red River, people are just as likely to love Oklahoma as they do Texas.
An Old Flame We Can’t Quit
But mostly, “King of the Hill” is about Hank. And its magic has always been that he’s conservative, but not a jerk. He’s skeptical of change but open to it in a begrudging way that feels downright progressive by modern Texas standards. When confronted with new technology, like a TaskRabbit-style app to clean the gutters, he grumbles, then ends up enjoying himself.
Hank doesn’t know what poke or boba tea are, but he’ll try them. His neighbors may look different from him, but Hank offers them a beer, rather than calling ICE. In today’s Texas, that level of flexibility is basically a Pride parade.
For those of us on the left, Texas is an old flame we can’t quit. We love the music, the food, and the charm of small towns that have a Dairy Queen, a high school football stadium, and a ghost story. But it’s hard to not be horrified by the politics, the cruelty, and the fact that somewhere, a state lawmaker is introducing a bill that begins with “Any books with the word ‘slavery’ in the title…”
“King of the Hill” is a reminder that Texas isn’t only that. It’s also family, neighbors, and people who mean well even when they don’t understand the thing they’re trying to mean well about. It’s block parties, state fairs, and barbecue joints where the owner calls you “darlin’” whether you’re 25 or 75. It’s people on jet skis rescuing their neighbors after a hurricane.
The reboot captures that perfectly, showing Hank rediscovering Texas in a way that’s as sweet as it is funny. It’s “Ted Lasso” for those of us who tried, and failed, to get into soccer (then again, Hank ends up trying his hand at soccer refereeing). Hank is the relative you have no-go areas of conversation with, but you still love them.
Some accuse him of being an opiate for the masses. The New Yorker argued that “for every left-leaning fan comforted by Hank’s fundamental decency, another might see his brand of conservatism as a nostalgic gloss on an increasingly ugly movement.”
Maybe. But for those of us in Texas, it’s not news that things have gotten ugly. We live that reality every day.
Our state is run by people who treat cruelty like it’s a campaign promise and culture wars like they’re Monday Night Football. But “King of the Hill” lets us see the most hopeful version of Texas: a Texas where disagreements happen over a cold Alamo beer in the alley, where kindness matters more than outrage, and where you can be set in your ways without using that as an excuse to be an asshole (or elect someone to be an asshole on your behalf).
Maybe that Texas is more myth than reality, nowadays. But for 25 glorious minutes, the “King of the Hill” reboot reminds us why we stick around, not just in Texas, but in the fight to make it better.