What Happiness Do I Stand to Gain By Considering King of the Hill an Anime?
During my freshman year at the University of Arkansas, I watched King of the Hill on DVDs I did not help my dorm-mate buy but I did help my dorm-mate scratch. I was raised in Plano, Texas (twenty minutes outside of Garland or “Arlen”, Texas as it is known on King of the Hill) so I was impressed when the show avoided the pitfalls many others would have plunged into had they tried to depict a proud Texan like Hank Hill.
I grew up around the work-hard-lounge-hard Texas culture that Hank Hill perfectly embodies. Hank sells propane and propane accessories and then, at night, indulges his alcohol dependency in the alleyway with his three best friends. Nothing reminds me of Texas more than occupational neurosis combined with sub-optimal vices.
My love for King of the Hill took an odd turn when, recently, I stumbled upon a rapidly growing Facebook page called King of the Hill is the best anime .
Of course, there is no rational argument for categorizing King of the Hill as an anime. The series embraces few if any of the tropes that define the genre. Yet this particular Facebook page does such a good job placing Hank Hill in a series of anime-inspired predicaments that I can’t help but feel that those who are not on the King-of-the-Hill-as-anime bandwagon are missing out on something. So I have to ask, what happiness did I gain by considering King of the Hill an anime?
King of the Hill lasted a whopping 13 seasons in part because of its ability to consistently place Hank Hill and his family in compromising situations. Whether it is George W. Bush’s limp handshake, or the idea of joining a co-op, or discovering a video game based on his life, Hank Hill is vulnerable in a world that can so easily compromise his basic routine and life principals. On the Facebook page King of the Hill is the best anime, anime becomes yet another predicament for the characters of King of the Hill to navigate, a genre whose proclivity towards hyper-exaggerated behavior and dire-stakes plot devices prove ridiculous when juxtaposed against Hank, Peggy, and Bobby.
While I am no expert on anime, I am a fan of how the genre often lovingly embraces high-stakes drama. When I recently re-watched Yu-Gi-Oh! online, I was amazed A) how terrible of an anime it is, but more importantly B) how much actually happens in the very first episode. In the first episode of Yu-Gi-Oh!, the series not only establishes its characters and teaches viewers the basics of Duel Monsters (the card game the show is centered around), but also reveals two of the most powerful monsters in the entire series (Exodia and the Blue Eyes White Dragon) and has the two rival duelists (Yugi and Kaiba) start and complete a battle. One episode of Yu-Gi-Oh!, while poorly executed, still strives to do as much work with its first episode as most series will try to do in their first season.
Compare this to the low-stakes approach of King of the Hill’s storytelling and it makes sense why it would bring people happiness to imagine the world that Hank, Bobby, and Peggy Hill occupy somehow getting caught up in the intensity of the average anime.
Even for those who are not fans of King of the Hill or cannot ethically condone the mashup of anime and cartoon on King of the Hill is the best anime, there must at least be some happiness to be gained in the knowledge that this community, which now numbers over 63,000, can actually exist.
Nearly seven years ago, King of the Hill aired its final episode and on the day I am writing this, over 63,000 people are at least mildly interested in a fringe offshoot of that series. Whatever it is we create and send out into the world, whether it be a decades-long passion project like King of the Hill or a slightly bizarre Facebook page dedicated to someone else’s passion project, this still holds true: people will find it and maybe they’ll even love it. How can I not, after realizing that, go back out into the world and make art, or memes, or both?
