By: Meera Eragoda, Copy Editor
It’s been a little over a month since Netflix released the second season of Hilda, a show about the blue-haired titular character’s adventures with friends and various fantastical beings, set to a soothing colour palette of muted, hazy blues, reds, and browns. The British-Canadian series was created by Luke Pearson, Stephanie Simpson, and Kurt Mueller, with the involvement of many Vancouverites. Based on a series of graphic novels by Pearson — who has also worked on Adventure Time — the animated fantasy show has a very charming, retro, autumnal vibe that continues to delight.
On the surface, Hilda’s escapades in the town of Trollberg with her trusty deer-fox sidekick Twig are exciting and the storylines engaging, but the power of Hilda goes beyond that. On closer examination, the show’s critiques of patriarchy and police become obvious, but remains enjoyable because they’re never preachy or over the top.
Hilda’s interpersonal relationships, as well, place an emphasis on positive portrayals without falling into overused tropes. Hilda lives with her single mother and that’s never questioned, commented on, or used to move the plot towards a nuclear family situation. Hilda’s mom finding happiness in her job and in her relationship with Hilda serves to normalize the representation of single parenthood and deemphasize the idea of romantic love as the most important kind.
In addition, her relationships with her friends, David and Frida, are portrayed as incredibly supportive. Season two opens with Hilda winning an essay and shows Frida, who also submitted an essay, congratulating Hilda on the win. To the show’s credit, both Frida and David are allowed to be complex characters and not flat sidekicks. Frida is allowed to be both Black and a bookworm who excels at school — a representation sadly lacking in mainstream depictions of Black girls — and David is allowed to be a boy and scared.
Though David is portrayed as being incredibly loyal to his friends and being able to put his fears aside when he needs to, he is also allowed to express his reservations about going into dangerous situations. By showing Frida and Hilda as being understanding of David and not making fun of him or telling him to “grow a pair,” the show makes room for boys to feel a range of emotions outside of anger. It also sets up the expectation that these expressions will be met with empathy and kindness. While Hilda and Frida are repeatedly shown taking the lead on their adventures, the show also explores the value of not running headfirst into the unknown.
Hilda is technically the main character and much of season one focuses on her, but every episode in season two centers around a different character, highlighting their complexities, personalities, and skillsets. In one particularly important episode, Hilda wants to try something new, but is unsuccessful. It is later shown that Frida, aspiring for the same thing, is able to achieve her goal and learn something new about herself. When the revelation is made, Hilda expresses only happiness and support for her friend. The messaging is that Hilda does not need to win at everything or have everything, and allowing Frida to have this as part of her identity shows that Black girls don’t have to be sidelined and their wins are not losses for others.
The show’s pro-library stance, too, is evident in the frequent trips Hilda and her friends take to the library to find out more about the various creatures they encounter. The librarian, who is young and rocks purple ombre hair, always has the answers they’re looking for, along with a cool, mysterious vibe. The lasting assumption of librarians from their portrayal in shows is someone usually older, sometimes severe, and always shushing you — but Hilda is breaking that mould. With BC having implemented a funding freeze on public libraries since 2019, despite their importance to immigrants and others, the subtle push towards them was appreciated.
Hilda also has a minor anti-cop sentiment — or at least, the anarchist in me chooses to read it that way. The Trollberg Safety Patrol is the equivalent of the town’s police force and is focused on punitive action. Hilda, on the other hand, demonstrates compassion and empathy towards the creatures she encounters, trying to understand the root cause of their problems, not just focusing on perceived mayhem. She usually figures out that there’s something more complex going on, while the Safety Patrol ignores it. In talking about one of the members of the Safety Patrol, Hilda says, “He acts like he wants to protect the city, but all he’s doing is causing more problems.” If that isn’t a perfect encapsulation of the police, I don’t know what is.
Though Frida and David are represented in a positive light, there are other representations that are missing. For example, there are no queer characters in the show and the one character in a hijab only has one speaking line and is otherwise largely sidelined. In addition, despite Frida being fairly well-developed, the main character is ultimately Hilda. But while it would be nice if the show increases its representation in the future, it’s worth noting that the representation it does have is done really well.
Hilda is worth watching for many reasons: storyline, supportive characters, an emphasis on adventure and understanding, and so much more. The radical spirit of the show, however, is what enhances it, making it a must-watch series.
