Cobra Kai picks up 30 years after Karate Kid. Johnny Lawrence, once a bully, reopens Cobra Kai dojo. He trains a fresh batch of students. It’s all about redemption and legacy. Choices matter and consequences follow. Get ready for some nostalgia mixed with drama. It’s a wild ride!

Meet the villains from Cobra Kai

Johnny Lawrence

Okay, Johnny is that rough-around-the-edges classic antihero who smells like motor oil and aftershave — forever half a tragedy, half a dad joke. He’s gruff, stubborn, and somehow keeps dragging himself (and other people) toward doing the right thing, even if it looks messy and involves a lot of yelling. Loves his Camaro, hates most motivational seminars, but will inexplicably give the best, weirdest pep talks at 2 a.m. Also low-key sentimental — cue the weird jealous-older-brother energy and the dusty photo albums he definitely pretends not to care about.

Tom Cole

Tom Cole is the slick, quietly dangerous type — the guy who smiles in meetings and then rearranges the board to get what he wants, if that makes sense? He’s smooth, patient, and likes plans that look harmless until they’re not; office-park menace, really. Has a weirdly precise playlist for plotting, collects novelty pens like trophies, and sometimes shows up being almost charming which is the worst part. You can picture him making coffee calmly while chaos happens and somehow he’s both thrilled and bored by it.

Kyler

Kyler is loud, brash, and impossible to ignore — instant bravado, big truck energy, the kid who posts everything 15 times and still acts surprised when people notice. He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of a billboard, but also this tiny, awkward streak where he tries to be nice and it comes out weirdly. Likes chain wallet vibes, will fight for his crew and also sometimes helps fix a flat tire like he’s secretly practical. He’s a lot of bluster but not totally irredeemable; plus he laughs too loud and it’s kind of contagious.

Anthony LaRusso

Anthony is Daniel’s son and walks this weird line between polite suburban kid and defensive teen who thinks he’s handling it with grace. He’s proud, sensitive in a way he hides with sarcasm, and tries really hard to be measured — which is adorable and occasionally disastrous. Loves cars (classic dad influence), will quote his mom unironically, and sometimes explodes into this melodramatic teenager mode that makes you want to hand him a cookie. He’s trying to be better than his instincts and sometimes succeeds, and sometimes doesn’t, which is honestly human.

Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz

Hawk is wild transformation energy — from awkward kid to full-on intimidation machine with a mohawk and a stare that could slice bread. He’s fiercely loyal to his crew and proud as heck, constantly teeters between defender and aggressor, and has this ridiculous love for style details like perfectly folded bandanas. Secretly loves soft things? Maybe. He’ll punch you for honor and then cry about his mom’s casserole, very inconsistent but very real. Watching him is like watching a fighter learn to be more than fists — sometimes he still forgets.

Daniel LaRusso

Daniel is classic stoic karate dad, all wax-on lessons, mountains of angst about legacy, and a suspiciously large collection of Hawaiian shirts. He’s honorable to a fault, sometimes obnoxiously rigid about rules, and has this whole “teach the kids better” crusade that’s both noble and exhausting. Great at waxing philosophical at sunset (literally and metaphorically), secretly enjoys a good spa day despite the whole stoic warrior vibe. He tries really hard to be the moral compass and occasionally turns into a whirlwind of righteous fury — which, again, is human.

Robby Keene

Robby is the beautiful mess — clever, wounded, and ready to sprint away from anything that looks like stability. He’s quick, resourceful, has a criminal-ish charm, and keeps making terrible choices for reasons that make sense if you watched his life up close. Loves sneakers, bad coffee, and being alone but also will put himself in danger for people he barely trusts — dramatic, I know. He’s the kind of person who texts “I’m fine” and means “I’m not,” and somehow that’s both tragic and very compelling.

Tory Nichols

Tory is the cold-fire type: fierce, defensive, absolutely not here to be anyone’s second fiddle, and may or may not have a secret soft spot for abandoned animals. She’s sharp-tongued, relentless in a fight, and carries a kind of loneliness that fuels her aggression — protective but also prickly. Dresses like she means business, speaks like she’s got a secret, and will jab verbally then expect you to understand without explanation. You want to root for her and also fear her, which is the point, honestly.

John Kreese

Kreese is the pure, applied-no-mercy archetype: military cadence, razor mind, and a philosophy that mercy is weakness — absolutely terrifying in a corporate suit or a dojo gi. He’s charismatic in the way dictators are, knows how to bend people like puppets, and has a past that he leans on like a weapon. Odd little quirks, like that unsettling ability to be unnervingly soft-toned one minute and volcanic the next, make him unpredictable in the best/worst way. You want to watch him because he’s brilliant at manipulation, even if you cringe the whole time.

Terry Silver

Terry Silver is the billionaire villain who smiles too much and owns too many golf clubs, a walking showroom of privilege and grooming products. He’s flamboyant, sneaky, and LOVES putting elaborate plans into motion — the theatrical kind of evil that wears designer suits and smells faintly of cologne. Charisma for miles, an eye for revenge theatre, and somehow manages to be both charming and absolutely malicious; also collects strange miniatures (or maybe that was a rumor — either way it’s delightfully weird). He’s the kind of villain who writes thank-you notes after ruining your life.