The Last of Us: Beneath the Grit and Gore

Before the premiere of The Last of Us, audiences expected a show that would remain faithful to its predecessor and waited to see the typical post-apocalyptic tv show with all the grit and gore and collapse they’d come to love. As the show aired, viewers were quickly introduced to two men, Bill and Frank. In Episode 3 of Season 1, also known as “Long, Long Time”, audiences receive a break from the dystopian drama that had been coming through TVs in the previous weeks. The episode is a distinct change in pace, slowing to explore the world through the lens of tenderness, care, and companionship rather than chaos. Episode 3 is a beautiful commentary on how mainstream media frames queer relationships, as well as masculinity and survival. Bill and Frank’s love is used to represent queer love in a way that is not tragic and devastating, but rather human and sustaining.

Throughout history, LGBTQ+ characters in television were often defined by tragedy, having stories that end in rejection, isolation, and even death. These common narratives reinforced heteronormative values by punishing deviation. Episode 3 consciously strays from this tradition, exploring the love between Bill and Frank as a story about fulfillment rather than punishment. Going through the apocalypse, ironically, gives the men the freedom to live as their authentic, true selves.

Bill is introduced to the viewers as a stereotypical “prepper” and an extremely straight-passing man. When Frank first becomes trapped on Bill’s property, the tension, both ideological and romantic, is immediate. Bill is distrusting and paranoid, whereas Frank embodies connection and cultivation. The two are complete opposites. Yet, Frank is successful in lowering Bill’s guard enough to welcome him into his home. It’s tense and uncomfortable, and audiences watch as Bill’s guard, his utiilitarian walls, slowly erode at the mere sound of Frank’s voice. The episode explores the growth and cultivation of their relationship, displaying changes in the small things, all clearly being Frank’s impact. The set dining table, the rejuvenated garden, all the details that demonstrate their coexistence and growing love. The show rejects the binary that survival and
softness are incompatible. Love, not fear, becomes their most potent survival mechanism.

Bill and Frank’s story does not end with tragedy or senselessness, but with peace and agency. Frank becomes terminally ill, and he wants Bill to help him die on his own terms. It’s a heart-wrenching ask. Bill not only honors his wish but joins him. He is unwilling to live in a world without Frank. A world without their shared life. It is the ultimate declaration of love. Death, but not despair. The episode ends with Joel and Ellie finding their home and discovering it to be preserved as a sanctuary. A literal and symbolic shelter that was rooted in intimacy and mutual care. The cultural significance lies in this reversal where, instead of marginalizing queer love, it is elevated as a model of meaning in a meaningless world.

When viewed through a cultural lens, the relationship Bill and Frank shared reimagined masculinity in a genre that often glorifies dominance and emotional repression. The ideal in post-apocalyptic fiction that male survival is tied to stoicism and violence is quietly and gracefully dismantled by The Last of Us. An example being, Bill’s initial hyper-masculine stance, his arsenal of weapons, the way he isolates himself, and his quick distrustfulness. All of these represent a familiar cultural archetype of the self-sufficient man that doesn’t need anyone, but the narrative gradually exposes the stance as unsustainable. Frank’s presence forces Bill to confront the emotional costs of survivalism. A memorable scene being when Frank convinces Bill to play his piano, the song being “Long, Long Time” by Linda Ronstadt. Bill’s performance is far from perfect. He’s nervous and shaky, both physically and vocally, which betray the fragility that lies beneath his hardened exterior. Frank is gentle and accepting, guiding Bill into this open and safe space that is not often afforded to male characters in their genre. Bill’s slow transformation from some survivalist brick wall to a devoted caretaker shows a reclamation of humanity.

Despite the episode’s critical acclaim, it sparked heavy controversy among some viewers who accused the episode of being “political”. That reaction in itself is revealing of how culture frames queerness as inherently political simply by existing on screen. Representation is never neutral, it either reinforces or challenges dominant ideologies. By centering a gay couple in a mainstream television series, The Last of Us refuses the cultural marginalization that often confines LGBTQ+ characters to subplots and or stereotypes. Show creators have emphasized the couple’s story was intended as a “love story first” yet calling it “just a love story” dismisses the point. It is important to see a story that depicts two men building a home, a life, together. Something that is otherwise seen as inherently radical. It helps to normalize stories that are similar. The episode overall invites audiences to view love as universal, not conditional on gender or identity. 

While many believe “Long, Long Time” stands out from its series because of the way puts a pause on the grim dystopia viewers had become accustomed to, that isn’t why. The episode stands out because it ultimately reframes what survival means. The portrayal of these characters is beautifully done, transforming a zombie narrative into a meditation on intimacy and hope. The episode does more than tell a love story, it intervenes in ongoing cultural conversations about masculinity, queerness, and the ultimate value of human connection. The story told through Bill and Frank, one that chooses openness, vulnerability, and beauty, reminds viewers that love, even or especially at the end of the world, is not weakness. It is resistance.

Dandadan: Alien Nut Theft and the Anatomy of Masculinity: Okarun’s Identity

Ken Takakura (Okarun) is a reluctant hero: awkward, broke, and terrified of talking to girls. Dandadan draws us in with Ken’s struggles, using his complicated identities to ask: Is masculinity less about bravado and more about caring for others when it counts?

On the surface, Okarun is a shy, introverted high school boy. When we first meet him, he sits in the back of the classroom, quietly reading to himself. Bullies bombard him with names and thrown objects. He is an outcast and bullied for being “a nerd.” Ken is interested in the supernatural, especially aliens and the occult. This brings him unwanted attention and name-calling. Momo’s nickname for him, Okarun, comes from his interest in the occult—it's a shortened version of Occult-kun. After meeting Momo, he struggles to navigate high school life as an outcast. His life changes when he encounters the supernatural beings he’s fascinated with, who sadly end up stealing his nuts. These early moments define not only who Ken is, but also how his surroundings challenge his sense of masculinity—both in words and, quite literally, through what’s taken from him.

There are several instances where Okarun is emasculated or labeled a "wimp." When Turbo Granny takes his junk, he loses agency and endures embarrassment as Momo supervises him in the restroom. Even after regaining his junk, Okarun faces teasing about his shy demeanor. Despite becoming powerful, his essential identity and experiences remain. The core argument is that Okarun, mocked for not fitting masculine norms, anchors manho
od in compassion over dominance. His outcast status pushes him to see masculinity as care rather than control. These experiences also shape quieter moments, like his approach to awkward relationships and social situations.

In Season 1, Episode 8, "I've Got This Funny Feeling,” we see many examples of intersectionality in Okarun's character. This episode examines how he navigates romantic advances, his social standing, physical capabilities, and intellectual acumen. All of these contribute to his character and morals. When discussing class materials with Momo, Okarun briefly reveals he does not come from a wealthy background. She asks, “You have a PC or a laptop, don't ya?” He replies, “No, I don’t, can't afford those.” Although he lacks the tools his peers have, he still works to be a good student and solves problems without these advantages. 

Another part of the episode reveals his character through his encounter with Aira in the schoolyard. Aira, a former bully, makes it clear she has a crush on him. Unfortunately for her, he does not return her feelings. Okarun skips lunch with Momo to train privately in the schoolyard. After their last battle, he feels responsible for protecting Momo and the rest of his classmates. He says, “I have to get stronger. Chances are another monster will show up, and I have to be ready to fight it. If I don't, if I can't, I’ll put Ms. Ayase (Momo) in danger.” Soon after, Aira finds him alone and approaches to confess her feelings. Even when interrupted, he kindly asks, “Is there something I can help with?” This shows his kindness and readiness to help, even those who have hurt him. Aira confesses her feelings but tries to kiss him before he can respond. He pushes her away. She immediately shouts, “What was that? Why are you dodging me? Why are you acting so weird?” Despite her attempt for a non-consensual kiss, Okarun tries to let her down gently and tell her she is mistaken. He pushes himself to explain that her actions are wrong and that her father’s magazines are misleading. She does not back down. A back-and-forth follows, showing how Okarun handles both an awkward moment with Aira and an upsetting one with Momo. Aira sweeps his legs, causing him to fall on her just as Momo turns the corner. Feeling betrayed, since Okarun said he’d be studying, Momo runs off. He tries to clarify, but she ignores him. Still, Okarun blames himself, saying, "There's no excuse for what I did.” Though he was lying so he could train, he blames himself instead of lashing out at either girl. His shyness overlaps with his kindness. He avoids conflict, not out of fear, but because he values empathy over ego. What others see as weakness is actually restraint. Okarun measures strength not by dominance or pride, but by taking responsibility, even if it is not fully his. His quiet humility becomes his power, setting him apart from the louder, more violent version of his cursed fighting form.

​Often belittled for lacking traditional masculinity, Okarun ultimately redefines what strength means. For him, real masculinity involves growth, self-restraint, and supporting others. His story suggests that kindness and responsibility are more genuine measures of manhood than dominance.

(Writer: Katie, Producer: Luke, Social media/images: Hannah)

The Gilded Cage of the Ratliffs: An Intersectional Look at Piper's Privilege

Piper Ratliff, the intellectually restless and ethically conflicted daughter of the Ratliff dynasty in the third season of The White Lotus, illustrates how a person’s identity is constructed from several layers of social forces. To understand Piper, viewers must look past a single characteristic trait and understand the intricate interplay of her class, gender, regional upbringing, education, and intellectual abilities. The way these aspects intersect — often leading to contradictions — is what defines her personality, shapes her core objectives while on vacation, and creates the specific, self-defeating conflicts she faces. In the opulent and complex setting of the White Lotus in Thailand, Piper embodies the strain felt by a young person who is aware of her privilege, yet remains incapable of escaping its corrosive effects, effectively trapped within a gilded cage of her own wealth.

From left to right: Lochlan, Piper, Saxon.

Piper’s character is fundamentally anchored by her extreme class status. As a member of the Ratliff dynasty, her financial status is the primary engine of her existence, granting her automatic privilege and immunity from failure. This wealth provides the safety net that allows her the luxury of intellectual and moral rebellion. Her wealth is compounded by her regional upbringing, which is rooted in a sphere of generational power and elite social circles. In “Same Spirits, New Forms,” Piper critiques the resort by calling it a “Disneyland for rich bohemians from Malibu in Lululemon yoga pants,” before she herself is later seen engaging in resort yoga in similar attire. This scene highlights the conflict between her intellectual condemnation of her upbringing and her functional participation in it. Her upbringing provides a specific form of snobbery that is only accessible due to her inherited class structure. The intersection of her class and upbringing results in a foundational layer of isolation. At first, viewers believe that Piper brought her family to Thailand under the pretext of academic research, but later fid out she wanted to personally explore and secure a spiritual change in her life. But after she spends one uncomfortable night at a monastery in “Killer Instincts,” Piper later tells her mother in “Amor Fati” she cannot live without a comfortable bed and air conditioning, directly prioritizing her physical class comforts over her spiritual objective.

Piper meets the Buddhist monk, revealing her
desire to study his teachings for one year.

The true complexity of Piper lies in the tension created by her cognitive layers: education and intellectual abilities. A student at University of North Carolina pursuing a Religious Studies focus, she is armed with the conceptual language of social theory and ethical philosophy. Her education has taught her how the world is unjust and why her family is part of the problem. Piper’s strong intellectual abilities mean she is constantly and restlessly applying this critique to her environment and her own family. This is the source of her own internal ethical conflict, as it functions more as an aesthetic performance of moral superiority than a genuine commitment. The entire trip to Thailand is justified by a fake thesis on a Buddhist monk, a lie that serves as her calculated manipulation to gain access to a year-long retreat she desires. This positioning is inherently hypocritical because her grand intellectual and spiritual experiment is entirely funded by the very wealth she critiques. The eventual collapse of this system is realized during her failed monastery stay in “Amor Fati.” Her intellectual objective — spiritual clarity and a rejection of materialism — is quickly defeated by the physical discomfort of true austerity, proving Piper’s moral ideals cannot override her embedded class privilege, which means her intellectual life is a luxury she can afford to discard when it ceases to be comfortable.

The trio just arrived and are admiring the scenery.

Piper’s experience is also uniquely shaped by her gender and specific role within the Ratliff hierarchy. As the only daughter amongst her brothers, she is subject to distinct pressures, often tied to maintaining the family’s social image, a pressure exerted primarily by her mother. This creates a primary conflict where she struggles to find control against the misogyny of her male counterparts, specifically her older brother Saxon. In “Hide or Seek,” Piper is upset when her younger brother Lochlan repeats Saxon’s speculation about her virginity, even though she doesn’t directly address the misogyny. Instead, she attempts to assert moral leadership and protect Lochlan, even though forms of sensual flirtations are noted from him toward Piper, such as calling her “hot.” This highlights how her efforts to establish independence and self-respect are constantly corrupted by the toxic and poorly-defined boundaries of her class-isolated upbringing. The intersection of her gender role and intellectual abilities positions Piper as the family’s designated truth-teller. She feels compelled by her education to articulate her family’s flaws, but as a young woman in this toxic dynamic, Piper lacks to power to actually enforce change, leading to frustration and a sense of being perpetually misunderstood.

Piper is in her reflective state with others in background
being taught detachment and inner peace.

Ultimately, the bittersweet journey of Piper confirms her identity is a compromised structure built from intersecting, contradictory social forces. She arrives to the White Lotus seeking spiritual escape, yet leaves as a stark illustration of how class privilege is not a safety net, but a gilded cage that is surprisingly difficult to escape. Her brief attempt at moral rebellion was destined for failure from the start. Piper’s intellectual condemnation of her wealth is defeated by the simple, immediate need for basic class comforts like air conditioning. She fails to transcend the Ratliff dynasty to something more than class and privilege, as Piper is the epitome of the modern, privileged young adult who can talk the talk of ethical philosophy but cannot walk the walk of genuine sacrifice. To Piper, it’s easier to write a thesis about Buddhism than it is to give up a comfortable bed. When faced with a true choice between her class-based freedom and her intellectual ideals, she reveals the only thing more comfortable than the immunity from failure provided by wealth is the actual comfort of a five-star resort.

(Photo Editor: Quentin Labrador; Writer: John Oliva; Producer: Michael Chihak)

Who Wants to Debate the Master Debater?! South Park VS Controversy!

A screencap from Cartman's show

Controversy is South Park’s best friend. It is no mistake, the show has aimed to poke fun at everyone and everything for the past 20 plus years. While much of its poking fun has been aimed at the current social world and people of high star power, it has never truly attempted to forcefully cause problems. From accidentally incorrectly depicting Muhammad to making one of their voice actors leave due to a scientology joke, South Park was not ready for their 27th season’s 2nd episode, “Got to Nut” as it became the target to immediately be pulled off air. 

American political activist and social media influencer, Charlie Kirk, became a figure in the controversial political market as he aimed to meet on college/university campuses and debate with students upon uncomfortable or high risk political topics. While much of his topics aimed to focus on the idea of gender ideologies and pro choice debates, he was a man of faith and an old school belief in his county of the United States. His “prove me wrong” catchphrase became something of a signature icon upon his behalf, as he would prop this sign up alongside him every time he would debate with students, simply to press their buttons and start a conversation. Kirk would as well be welcomed to more than just schools, as he stepped into the world of podcasts. Creating his own “Charlie Kirk Show” podcast and as well as guest appearing on other podcasts such as “The Ben Shapiro Show” and “Whatever Podcast” all shows that ultimately debated and discussed current issues with politics, gender, and faith. But how was he welcomed into the world of South Park? 

Clyde and Cartman debating on Clyde's podcast

Clyde and Butters debate

“Got a Nut” aired August 6th 2025, marking the 330th episode for the series. The kids of South Park elementary are fed up with the recent news that has been spoken online. Quickly, we are thrown into the loop that this must be coming from problem child Eric Cartman, the king of ragebating. While the topics have to do with “Jew bashing” and “Women hating”, we are thrown into a spiral as it is revealed to be nonchalant student Clyde Donovan is the one who has been saying such triggering things online. Upsetting Cartman, as Clyde is known to do professionally, Clyde sets up a Charlie Kirk style booth outside of South Park elementary welcoming students to debate and argue with him, by opening up with the iconic statement, “prove me wrong.” Cartman steps into the ring with a new hair cut, button up shirt, and a plastic water bottle as he aims to mimic that of Charlie Kirk’s look. As now we see Cartman sitting on the toilet “master debating to these young college girls” with his laptop on his lap, virtually debating with college students. By discussing the perspectives of abortion and religion, something Kirk did often. So thus, his mom walks into his home late at night, still “master debating” with these young college girls, making it a problem for his mother to deal with. As now we see Cartman doing everything he can to be recognized within the debating community. And even later, Cartman is welcomed to the Charlie Kirk awards, and is out debated by Cylde as he wins the award for master debating better then Cartman. A chaotic but almost neutral parody of the man who influenced the side story of the episode.

Cartman's mother knocking on the door
while Cartman "master debates"

 South Park tackles these political and social issues through that of comedy/parody. To imitate, rather than to directly have a side on the topic. While the show exaggerates on the personality of Kirk, it reminds us that he himself is a bigger personality that can be tackled in multiple perspectives, for both the sake of comedy and politics. While the show continues its plot of the episode, it continues to make subtle but obvious comedic jabs at Kirk. Such as when Bebe saw Cartman’s transformation into a debater, she calmly says, “That is the stupidest hair cut I have ever seen.” While Cartman aggressively and directly says, “You are wrong…” and changes the topic. Something Kirk would often do in real life when being verbally attacked for his physical features, derail and come back to the conversation. This episode represents these sides of issues by helping the audience understand what we are seeing is really fairly silly in all senses.

Cartman debating a young college girl

September 10th 2025. Nearly a month after said episode premiered on Comedy Central, saw the day Charlie Kirk was shot and killed upon a college campus doing what he always did, debate. In many ways, this became a confused day for Americans everywhere. As both sides saw reasons to grief and sigh of relief. In the end, the episode was scheduled to re-air for the 2nd time that night to fill the time slot for South Park, just before Digman’s new episode, but was pulled immediately due to said events. Before his passing, Kirk had reviewed the episode and found it “hilarious” and claimed it acknowledged his "viral, cultural domination" in a TikTok” said during a People interview. During said interview he continued to say, "Now, there's going to be a lot said about this, but we need to have a good spirit about being made fun of.” A direct acknowledgment to South Park and becoming a good sport when it comes to jokes. As South Park did its job of playing both left and right fields, bridging forth comedy into a world that needs to laugh a little more. 

By now, a trend on social media is seeing the dumbest thing possible happening in the real world and commenting, “We are living in an episode of South Park.” In all senses, the world has become a slow but almost crippling episode of South Park. By now, anything that happens in politics and social reality can and will become a parody for a new episode. From referencing the president to having a small penis, to reaching for the bible being back in school, South Park will do everything it can to make a quick but long remembered laugh. 

Writer: Jamie Soliz, Images: Dante Ellis, Producer: Isabel Cisneros

Sources:

https://people.com/south-park-episode-parodying-charlie-kirk-pulled-from-comedy-central-11808120#:~:text=After%20it%20aired%20on%20Aug,7.

Susceptible to Influence: The Makings of a Child-Killer

Algorithms are lurking behind every page, set to validate our every negative emotion, an endless negative feedback loop preying on our human frailty, on our nature, and most notably, the intersectionality that makes up our identity. This phenomena forms one of the core conceits of Adolescence and shapes it’s characters. We see easily identifiable people just trying to do their jobs and keep up with their community, seeking a release valve to relieve them of their day-to-day stressors. The program’s naturalistic rendering of this key force influencing our political and social lives makes it truly stand apart.

Structurally, Adolescence takes a unique approach to establishing the intersectionality of it’s characters. It initially doesn’t provide much in the way of character background, instead choosing to get us to empathize with its characters by having us spend extended periods of time with them, allowing us to observe every mannerism and tick, humanizing them in the process. We see these very real, textured people get caught up in developments that push them to their very limits. Only as each character's arc begins to be settled does intersectionality come more into focus. We see the tension between our two police officers' professional and personal lives and how it keeps them constantly on edge. Most importantly, our two ostensible main characters, Jamie, and his father are shown to have backgrounds that inform the former’s violence and the latter’s obliviousness.  Jamie, a thoroughly middle class adolescent is at an age where he is just knowledgeable enough to have an inflated sense of his intelligence, which allows him to easily jump to brash conclusions, while also being thoroughly insecure in the throws of a transitional period in his life. He is intelligent enough to have the innate curiosity to be interested in thinking about society and it’s various institutions but only through the adolescent, biased self absorbed lens that his age grants him. Emotional intelligence, in the case of Jamie, has not caught up to his above average intelligence in other areas. His gender makes him susceptible to a sense of sexist entitlement. He views being turned down as a personal insult, especially by someone he believes to be of low virtue.

The British cultural predisposition towards quiet desperation, makes him less willing to seek help. Not seeking help is often perceived as a show of dignity and strength. This exacerbates the divide between father and son who both embody two opposing archetypes of British masculinity. Sports and “lad culture” played a large role in the life of his father, whereas son, of a slightly higher social class pursues more scholarly, artistic interests. Without even consciously registering it, perhaps, there is a divide here that is left unaddressed, heighted by the father making his son pursue sports.  The intersection of these layers of identity heavily influences his murder of a classmate who rejects his romantic advances, having fully internalized online extremism telling him that he’s victimized and worthless. If he was of an older age, he would have the perspective to realize how insignificant this rejection ultimately is in the grand scheme of one’s life, and not construe it as something that definitively proves his lack of romantic prospects, or an act of malice on behalf of all womankind. We have these layers of identity laid out in confessional scenes at the end of each of the final two episodes, where these threads largely serve as closure. In lieu of being given specific details as far as how the events leading up to the murder played out, these threads provide us with our characters' emotional truth, which sticks with the viewer more than just being given the facts outright.

For as prominent of a role as intersectionality plays in Adolescence, it is in some sense the lack of deleterious societal factors that make the proceedings of the show so striking. Jamie is in most regards positioned by society for success. He is on an upwardly mobile track. That the internet and it’s algorithms can reinforce his relatively few, normal teenage problems to such a degree to where a well-off child resorts to a shocking act of violence, is where much of the true terror of the program lies. 

Adolescence, over the course of it’s four episodes, presents intersectionality in a thoroughly modern context and milieu. As opposed to breaking down each layer in granular detail, the program instead often lets the viewer infer through the specific, clearly motivated actions of it’s characters. The program at no point feels like a public service announcement or exposition dump. The internet lives of these characters and their online identities are not kept at arms length from their real lives. There is nothing keeping these heightened, interconnected crises of identity to the internet.

(Writer: Ben Borchardt, Photo Editor: Hannah Perez, Producer: Tomás Whitmarsh)

King of The Hill: Bobby's Cultural Restaurant Chaos

Culture and the things surrounding it have been a pretty divisive topic for the past few years, and King of the Hill doesn’t shy away from it. When it comes to culture today, many say that if you’re not part of that culture, you can’t take part in it. (bars) In episode 3, titled “Bobby Gets Grilled,” we see how people from different cultures react to someone who isn’t part of their group and how they adapt their culture in their own way. At the start of the episode, Bobby has two different kinds of food made from different cultures. When talking to Hank about why he’s using Binchotan charcoal instead of propane, Bobby explains he did thorough research to make sure the food he’s serving is authentic and respectful to the culture he’s sharing. Soon, Bobby finds out he’s running low on charcoal and calls a dealer who declines his order because he isn’t Japanese. Later, Bobby goes to the store and discovers that the man on the phone is a Black man adopted by Japanese parents and raised in Japan.  After the encounter, the man calls Bobby a cultural appropriator, and another group, representing Germans, also treats him as one. The Black Japanese charcoal dealer adds an interesting perspective because he challenges the idea that culture is determined solely by race. He proves that cultural identity is influenced by experience and upbringing, not just appearance. His initial rejection of Bobby seems harsh, but it highlights the confusion people face when defining what truly belongs to whom. After all, culture isn’t a possession; it’s a living thing that evolves as people share ideas, foods, and traditions across communities.

As the episode progresses, we see other examples of culture. Joseph talks about being “white” and how he can’t be Speedy Gonzales anymore. Bobby calls this racist, while his sous chef Emilio, calls Speedy a hero in the fight against American imperialism. This shows how someone’s use of another culture isn’t necessarily wrong. Later, Bobby invites everyone who called him a racist to dinner to prove that staying true to who he is and what he likes is the best way to represent his food. All the critics and supporters alike move past the conflict.

People often struggle to tell the difference between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation. Many see interactions with other cultures as appropriations and criticize those who do it, believing everyone should stick to their own culture. This way of thinking fosters division instead of unity. Instead of viewing cultural exchange as a chance to learn and connect, many see it as ownership and exclusion, which limits understanding and respect. Given how divided people are on cultural issues, I think this episode shows how those who insist that people should only engage with their own cultures only create more division and conflict. Our cultures are what make us who we are, and sharing them with others shows respect and appreciation. What makes this episode especially powerful is how it tackles the topic with humor and honesty. 

King of the Hill has always been great at addressing social issues through the lives of ordinary people, and “Bobby Gets Grilled” continues that tradition. It doesn’t preach or moralize; instead, it lets the characters’ interactions speak for themselves. Bobby’s curiosity and enthusiasm demonstrate a genuine interest in learning from other cultures. He’s not mocking or exploiting anyone; he’s inspired. Yet, despite his good intentions, he is criticized for overstepping, reflecting the tension seen today, online and in real life, when people are accused of “appropriation” rather than “appreciation.” In the end, the episode reminds us that culture is meant to be shared, not hoarded. Restricting others from exploring or respecting different traditions risks isolating us and losing opportunities for growth. Using Bobby’s simple love for cooking, King of the Hill teaches that respectful curiosity about other cultures can bring us closer together. When paired with respect, curiosity isn't appropriation; it’s admiration. True appreciation comes from understanding, effort, and sincerity—regardless of someone’s background or appearance—and this fosters a future based on camaraderie and understanding.

(Writer: Jayden Brooks, Photo: Brayden Darlymple, Producer: Isaiah Martinez)  

Unsung & Unseen: How Music & Sound Design Create Immersion in Adolescence

Rare use of non-diegetic music

BANG! The sound of a gun being fired or a door slamming shut. CRASH! The sound of a window being broken or a glass of water shattering on the floor. Click! The sound of a switch being flipped or the clacking of heels against a tile floor. Sound design is an important but often overlooked element of media, and that is typically by design. The choice of what the audience hears and doesn’t hear helps build out an environment as much as what is shown within the frame of any given scene. The series Adolescence is very intentional in its use of sound design, often going from purely diegetic sounds of a given environment to slowly fading and muffling those sounds away to be replaced by the non-diagetic score as a means of depicting the emotions going on inside a given character’s head.

“Atmospheric score creeps in”

In “Episode 1” of the series, this use of sound design to create atmosphere and build tension is already on full display. The entire sequence of the swat team entering the Miller residence all the way to the moment they load Jamie into the police van is done completely without any kind of musical score, instead relying on the diegetic sounds of the given environments to set the tone of the scene. The pounding sound of the swat team moving up the stairs, shouting at the family to stay on the ground, the sounds of drawers being opened and clothes being ruffled through all come together to help the audience live in the same anxiety that the Miller family is going through in that moment. Meanwhile, during a few quieter moments in between the more procedural moments such as when Jamie is being transferred over to the station and being processed once he arrives, all the sounds of the environment and dialogue slowly begins to fade away as the atmospheric score creeps in while the camera locks in directly on Jamie’s face. The use of the score in this way paired with the camera’s specific focus on Jamie himself gives the audience a sense of the emotional turmoil going on in Jamie’s mind. Like a glimpse into his thoughts and emotional state without the need to directly spell them out through dialogue. The pairing of the actor’s performance, the way in which Jamie is focused on within the frame, and the use of sound design all compliment and build upon each other to make those individual moments stand apart from the scenes that largely feature the sounds of the environment and focus more broadly on multiple individuals within a given scene.

“Properly balancing the sound of dialogue”

“Episode 2” starts with officers staring at the memorial for Jamie’s victim. We hear the sound of a gate creaking open and rattling as it hits the wall before the camera even pans towards the source. It takes a few seconds before the camera pans over and we are introduced to Mrs. Fennimore, a teacher at the school, as she lets the two officers in. This is an example of how the use of sound design in a scene can cue audiences into events taking place within the space without actively revealing the person or thing that caused it until later. It’s a very innocuous case in this particular opening scene. A similar instance of this occurs only a few minutes later with two teachers discussing the fall out of the murder with parents constantly hounding them on whether or not the school is safe. We can hear the sound of a drum kit being played as it slowly grows louder and louder. The camera continues following the teachers walking until one of them closes a door leading into a music room where we as an audience see the source of the drumming. A student can be seen practicing on a drum kit. Upon closing the door, the sound of drums is muffled but still persistent as the conversation between the two teachers escalates in urgency, their voices much louder in the sound mix. This leads into heading into a stairwell where the camera changes focus from the teachers to two students walking. A school bell can be heard ringing. As the students walk out to the courtyard, the sound of other student’s chatter can be heard getting louder as the two students continue their walk. All of this highlights the use of not just diegetic sound in a sense of setting up an environment, but how volume is utilized to create a more textured environment without music. It also shows the tricky balance that all shows and films have to navigate. The ever persistent challenge of properly balancing the sound of dialogue and the sound effects of the environment the characters occupy. If the background noise stays the same as the subjects approach a given sound source, it can come across as fake or unmotivated. However if you treat all the sounds of an environment in a way you would to simulate precisely how loud they would be in real life in relation to how each source and subject is to the camera, the sounds of the characters' dialogue can be drowned out completely making what they are saying completely indecipherable.

Adolescence

“A sense of the emotional turmoil”

as a series has a very tricky task. By nature of it all playing out in one take, the way that sound is utilized must be very precise in a way that other series may not necessarily have to consider. With a camera in constant motion and being unable to simply cut away to a new space, the way that the sound of the environments and dialogue must be mixed has to be done with great care in order for it all to keep the audience’s focus where the creators of the series want it to be. Whether that be through the chaotic scene of a police raid, the hustle and bustle of a primary school courtyard, or in the removal of all diegetic sounds of an environmental in favor of an ambient score to highlight the inner turmoil of a character. Adolescence as a series highlights precisely why sound is so important in the world of visual storytelling and the way in which sound is utilized in film and television immerses an audience into the narrative without them even noticing it at all. 

(Writer: Tomás Whitmarsh, Photo Editor: Ben Borchardt, Producer: Hannah Perez)

The Many Sounds of King of the Hill

Road Noise!

Movies and TV series have always used certain ethos to draw audiences into their stories, whether it be production, wardrobe, or special effects. Directors are always intentional in their creative choices, especially with music. King of the Hill, being one of the most iconic adult animated series of the 1990s, has successfully utilized music to connect its audience to the series' characters, animation, culture, and southern charm. In fact, according to Mike Judge in an interview with Billboard LifeStyle, he expresses that the music of King of the Hill reflects his blue-collar neighborhood upbringing, ranging from classic country to 80s rock, which he wanted to translate within the series, to give the audience a personal connection, and it successfully does so!  

Willow catches the ball with victorious music

In the Intros, the creators immediately utilize the visual montages accompanied by Uppity Hill Billy music to set the Texan tone and comedic absurdity of the show, and often use a soft acoustic soundtrack to introduce us to the first scene for every episode and a transition. In fact, the acoustic soundtrack has become a staple in the series, especially when Hank and other characters within Arlin, Texas, come together in emotional moments that end in unity and closure, not just as a

community, but also in the Hill Household.  Specifically, in Season 14, episode 7, in “Any Given Hill Day,” Mike Judge exercises music within the plot, where Bobby, working at his restaurant in Dallas, comes across his favorite customer, Peter, a regular, who dies of a stroke, causing Bobby to reflect on his relationship with his father after he attends Peter's funeral. His reflection, accompanied by poignant acoustic music, gives the audience a sense of the sorrow Bobby is feeling, the fear he could lose his dad at any moment, prompting him to buy tickets to the Dallas Cowboys Fantasy Camp to spend time with him.  However, like every television episode, we are introduced to the problem—cue dramatic music!  Bobby’s vegan girlfriend, Willow. Willow is the foil to Hank's traditional values, from refusing to eat meat to experimenting with her earth-based lotions on Bobby, which Hank doesn’t appreciate.

Dramatic Music

Throughout the episode, she becomes a constant problem and joy to Hank and Bobby, from forcing Hank to eat a vegan casserole to being an all-star football player,  music, and even their conversations are utilized to show this dynamic. For instance, Willow, unlike are southern titular characters, speaks in a normal modulated voice rather than a southern drawl; she has piercings and lopsided hair and speaks about environmental issues, making her immediately stand out. When she forces-feed Hank the casserole, the action is immediately accompanied by dramatic orchestral music, showcasing the shock in Bobby and Peggy’s faces, the levity of her actions, the evident anger in Hank’s face, and to show the audience that she f***ed up. However, later on in the episode, as Willow tags along with Bobby and Hank to the fan football camp, we see Willow’s athleticism and physical aptitude for football, greatly impressing Hank. A rock montage accompanies this as we see Willow decimate the opposing team through her superior passes, her fine agility, tactical precision, and her ability to hold her own on the field. But the rock and roll montage also reveals Bobby’s suppressed insecurities and feelings about not being athletic enough for his father. Making the audience “Us” feel for Bobby as he watches Willow and his father cheer each other on.  But by the end of the episode, from Bobby and Hank’s father-son heart-to-heart talk in the locker room to Willow’s “accident” in Jerry Jones' office. Our character’s journey ends in a quiet car ride and closure between father and son, accompanied by the iconic acoustic soundtrack.  

Hank blows a whistle!

Unlike episode 7, which utilizes dialogue and musical scores, episode 5, season 14, “New Ref in Town,” The creators use silence and ominous soundtracks in the plot to highlight that Hank is trying to hide his love for soccer. In the first scene, Hank, as usual in every episode, is drinking beer in the alley with his buddies, but when they see the neighbor’s kid playing soccer near the fence, they quickly grow disgusted. However, Hank says the kid is good and could be the next Lionel Messi, which is immediately met with suspicion and silence from his friends. The silence in the scene is used to show us, the audience, how much of a taboo soccer is in Texas, as well as to enlarge the stakes, that Hank must keep his love for soccer a secret. So throughout the episode, Hank dodges his buddies, stays at home, and discreetly attends soccer games, all while being accompanied either in silence, a quiet soundtrack, or in conversation with Peggy to continually emphasize to this audience “That this is a secret, no one can know about this”.  All at the same time, Dale is spying on the Hills, under the impression that they are Saudi Arbain spies working under orders to spy on American intelligence, which in Dale’s montage, we get to hear the cliche spy soundtracks as Dale goes into a rabbit hole, while we get the sense of his absurdity and unhinged obsessive behaviors. 

Mysterious Music!

Overall, Mike Judge and the creators of King of the Hill do an amazing job in utilizing sound to showcase their characters throughout their show, from their southern accents to their staple country and rock music. It’s what makes the show iconic and recognizable. It’s like what Mike Judge mentioned earlier in his interview: he wanted to “connect his audience” to his southern upbringing in Texas, and he successfully does that.

Mike Judge on How ‘Do The Right Thing ‘Inspired ‘King of the Hill’ (Harson K. 2, September 2025) Mike Judge on How ‘Do The Right Thing’ Inspired ‘King of the Hill’ | Billboard Lifestyle 

Writer: Isaiah Martinez Photo: Jayden Brooks Producer: Brayden Dalrymple