“King” comes from the delinquently juvenile comic mind of Mike Judge, of “Beavis and Butt-head” fame, in collaboration with Greg Daniels, a former “Simpsons” scribe. Fox has never been able to come up with what the networks call a “companion” show to go with the Simpson clan. Something for the whole family that would be smart enough for the grown-ups, smart-alecky enough for the kids. But this may be it.
The “hill” alluded to in the title is Hank Hill, husband, father and vendor of “propane and propane accessories” in a lethargic suburb called Arlen, Texas. Hank is as American as a frozen apple pie. His booming twang (supplied by Judge himself) will be familiar to anyone who’s seen “Beavis and Butt-head” on MTV or in its recent feature-film incarnation. It’s the voice of B&B’s long-suffering neighbor and victim, Mr. Anderson. But Hank Hill is no victim. And he’s not a clueless buffoon like Homer Simpson. He’s the kind of guy TV usually makes fun of but Judge, a Longhorn State resident, clearly has an affection for. Not quite a redneck, he’s neither upscale nor downscale–more like midscale. A regular Amurrican who drives a truck and drinks beer outta the can. His wife wears Bermuda shorts and unfashionable glasses. His crew-cut son, Bobby, is on the chubby side.
And like any red-blooded American family, they fight a lot. In the first episode the yelling is occasioned by a black eye Bobby gets during a Little League game. A rumor soon flies around town that the kid got the shiner from his pop. Before long, a weedy social worker is trying to build a child-abuse case against Hank Hill. When Hill raises his voice in protest against this “twig boy” bureaucrat, the social worker tells him that “loud is not allowed,” among other P.C. platitudes. Meanwhile, Bobby jumps at the chance to misbehave. “Your hostility invalidates our parent-child contract,” he instructs his bewildered father in a small, scratchy voice reminiscent of Charlie Brown. Everything sorts out by the end of the half hour, with a Brady moment of father-son reconciliation that would make Beavis and Butt-head toss their nachos.
The “heh-heh-heh” snickering of those MTV bad boys makes people forget that Judge has a great ear for satire as well as toilet and breast jokes. “King of the Hill” isn’t nearly as dark and dumb as “B&B.” It even gets a little too sweet sometimes. But it has the same crudely drawn verisimilitude, from Hank’s drawling chorus of beer-gut buddies to the trailer-trash niece who moves into the Hill house when her “momma” runs off. There’s a great moment when Hank is making himself a bacon sandwich. Just when he’s about to lay on some mayonnaise, he thinks better of it and spreads bacon grease on the bread instead. Homer may finally have met his match.
