Years later, 1984’s The Karate Kid is not just another youth sports movie, and its success should not be considered a fluke, aided by the feel-good atmosphere of the mid-1980s. It’s a story of personal and athletic triumph, but it’s also a story of a frustrated teen finding a father figure, while the mentor discovers a surrogate son after years of loneliness. It’s inspirational but not clothed in cotton candy floss. What would make a viewer decide to watch this decades-old film after years of diminishing sequels and more recent martial arts film imitators?

The film begins with a common trope of 80s teen dramas: the move to a new city. Daniel LaRusso (Ralph Macchio) and his mother, Lucille, are westbound from New Jersey to the “dream destination” of Los Angeles. Dream destination for Lucille because she has a hot new career; more of a nightmare for Daniel as he’s leaving the familiar Italian American East Coast culture for a world of blonds, beaches, and bullying. (It may be surprising to youths today, but there was a time when California was imagined as a new world, almost separate from the rest of the U.S., instead of an off-putting land that people are escaping from to return to their roots.). By drawing the attention of dream girl Ali (Elizabeth Shue) at the beach, he invites the wrath of her ex-boyfriend Johnny (William Zabka) and his gang of fellow karate students, who are trained by the no-chill Cobra Kai dojo owner Kreese (Martin Kove). Daniel knows some karate, but not enough to make a difference. Fortunately, after multiple instances of violence against him, a friendly maintenance worker, Mr. Nariyoshi Miyagi (Pat Morita), who has gotten to know Daniel and his mother, intervenes, and thus starts a journey where not only does Daniel develop his skills to defend himself, but he grows in qualities that are important even if he loses interest in karate.

What makes this film interesting is less because of the action and more because of the characters’ personalities and relationships between the characters. The director John G. Avildsen doesn’t direct sports films. You may be saying to yourself, “Hey, didn’t he direct Rocky?” Yes, he did, but Rocky is not a sports film. Yes, the MacGuffin is Rocky’s boxing career and his shot at the Heavyweight title, but the meat of that film is Rocky’s relationship with Adrian, Paulie, Mickey, and himself. We even find out more about Rocky and Apollo outside of the ring during their pre-fight interactions than we do when they’re pummeling each other through the rounds. Similarly, while the fight sequences are competent (I prefer the two action sequences where Daniel is targeted by the bullies to the end tournament; there’s only so much you can do to make points-based, contact-limited martial arts tournaments exciting), the heart is in the dramatic scenes. We see Daniel as a sure, street-smart kid on first arrival to California, but it’s hard to forget his humiliated look following his first takedown by Johnny, when he’s been abandoned by his new friends and is left to be diminished, as he sees it, in the eyes of Ali. Another emotional scene involves Daniel’s trashing of his bike after another beatdown: it’s short, but it conveys all that Daniel hates concerning his situation—he’s a stranger in a strange and privileged land, and there seems to be nothing that he can do about it.

Ralph Macchio is not the only one that gets to give a good performance. In fact, one might say that Pat Morita as Mr. Miyagi often steals the spotlight. Being a film featuring martial arts, Mr. Miyagi could’ve been portrayed as an unworldly, mystic master, especially since such archetypes were predominant up to that point. However, while Mr. Miyagi is wise, he’s also human. His relationship with Daniel is often more like that of a father and son than sensei and student. It’s not through specific karate skills that he teaches Daniel self-discipline but through household chores. Only later does Daniel see how such mundane activities contribute to his martial arts training. Obviously, the centerpiece scene is Mr. Miyagi’s drunken breakdown due to his reflection on a tragic (personally and nationally) event from decades before. A son would usually not want to see his father in such a state, and a father, especially one known for self-discipline, would not want to put on such a display. However, Daniel and Mr. Miyagi have both opened up to each other at this point. Mr. Miyagi is no longer just the firm teacher or provider of quips but is a person of vulnerability just like Daniel.

Even the antagonists have depth that a lesser movie might skip in exploring. Yes, the Cobra Kai are relentless in the tormenting of Daniel. However, we come to see that this aggression is fomented by the teaching of Kreese. (Daniel also doesn’t help himself by his cocky attitude at times). Why might Kreese have been so angry? Did his military experience in Vietnam inform him? (I haven’t watched Cobra Kai, but apparently, it goes more into detail about his past, and my speculation is confirmed). We see levels of compassion in Johnny’s fellow Cobra Kai when Johnny escalates matters, and by the end, he no longer has complete faith in Kreese’s teachings.

No film is perfect, even “perfect films.” I did find it convenient that every activity that Daniel was interested in, Johnny and the Cobra Kai were involved in. Daniel meets up with them during soccer tryouts; he’s already had some karate training while they’re all members of Kreese’s dojo; he rides a regular bike while they roar through the scenes on motorbikes; and Johnny just broke up with Ali, and she is ready to be on the rebound with Daniel at first sight. It’s understandable that there need to be scenes for conflict, but it makes Daniel seem more than fated to walk into trouble no matter where he goes in Reseda. Speaking of Ali, Shue gave a decent performance with the material given. However, there’s not much there. It’s hard to see what she sees in Daniel at first besides his being the opposite of Johnny in almost every way. People were surprised when she didn’t return for the sequel. Given the nature of high school relationships and the love-at-first-sight attraction between the two, I was not.

I’ve not said much about the music and don’t have much to say except that it’s adequate for the film’s aspirational nature; the pan flutes are a nice touch and don’t overwhelm the atmosphere, unlike a lot of Asian-themed movies. Most people remember Joe Esposito’s “You’re the Best,” but I believe that Bananarama’s “Cruel Summer” best epitomized the L.A. culture. Too bad it wasn’t included on the soundtrack album.

Today, moviegoers can watch all types of martial arts styling. It’s often included in typical action and comic book movie fare. What you don’t get is a story where karate is not an end, but a means for self-development. There are a lot more exciting tournament movies that you can watch. Here, the tournament is the dessert, the logical conclusion of a journey that begins when Daniel arrives unwillingly in Reseda. The meat and potatoes is the growth of Daniel under the paternal guidance of unassuming Mr. Miyagi, and this is still relatable years later.