Confession time: I love children’s media. Whether it’s nostalgic throwbacks from my own childhood like Pokémon or newer franchises like How to Train Your Dragon or Avatar: The Last Airbender, there’s something special about kids’ shows when they’re done well. Admittedly, Pokémon is purely kids’ fare—there’s not much hidden depth to it, and it ultimately leaves you begging yourself not to think critically about it (the morality of using animals as warriors-for-hire, the strictly defined gender roles based on outdated stereotypes, how does everyone not smell all the time—they walk everywhere, practically live outdoors, and only make it to a place that presumably has a full bathroom every few episodes), but there are kids’ shows that are written with adults in mind and there are kids’ shows that are just done so well that they’re appropriate for all ages. I’m not talking about sneaking in a cheeky reference here or there that adults will understand and kids will not (I call this Dreamworks Style), I’m talking about top to bottom storytelling that can thrill, delight, captivate, and teach anyone, of any age. It’s about telling mature stories that both children and adults can relate to and enjoy.

Hilda running along with her trusty deerfox Twig and a flock of woffs

Hilda is one of those shows. Following the exploits of a young blue-haired girl of the same name who hails from the forest just outside the walled city of Trollberg, Hilda is an adventure show at its core. From the opening sequence in the Hilda pilot, you can see that you’re in for expansive, fast moving haps and mishaps with Hilda and, eventually, her friends. When we meet Hilda, she’s off into the forest with her trusty deerfox companion Twig, to explore, where she runs into an oddly shaped boulder after following a flock of woffs, which are large, balloon-like puppy animals with no legs and just a tail. Ever the explorer, Hilda opens her trusty notebook to sketch the boulder, which she explains is a troll, turned to stone by the daylight. Of course, as she would explain to Twig, during the day the trolls are harmless, yet the moment the sun goes down, the troll would rip both her and Twig to shreds and likely eat them. And, as children tend to do, she loses track of time and darkness falls on her and Twig, triggering her failsafe—a bell tied to the troll’s nose. A chase ensues, and when the troll finally catches up to her, he gestures for her help in removing the bell, which is causing him major distress. After she does, the troll returns her sketchbook that she dropped in her haste and ambles off into the distance. It was that interaction—one that started with fear and excitement and ended with a new understanding between very different creatures—that immediately clues you in to the fact that Hilda is a special show.

While the scenery of the show will shift quickly from being set primarily in the forest to primarily in the city of Trollberg, this scene sets you up with everything you’re going to need to know about what you’re in for with Hilda. She’s a hero, but a different kind of hero. As the lore unfolds, it becomes clear that some sort of conflict exists between trolls and humans, leading to fear and strife, but while Hilda’s initial response was that of fear, she was able to see the troll not as some scary monster, but just as some other being that has a right to exist, just as she does. She has the one thing true heroes truly need—empathy.

Rarely does Hilda pack heat, but when she does, it’s a sword.

Ted Lasso uses his empathy and kindness to take on a cheerleader role in everyone’s life—he’s always in your corner, using his innate goodness as a shield for you, while simultaneously being your cut man to prop you up. Hilda wields her empathy like a sword, finding the things in life she sees that are wrong and swinging at them from the shoulder, doing all that a little girl can to make the world a better place. And luckily, in TV shows, a person actually can make a difference in the world, even if that person is a small child aged, by my estimate, 6-10 years old, so her efforts never feel pointless, useless, or futile, like so many efforts in real life actually can (I am very bad at estimating how old children are). At every turn in the series, Hilda reminds you that there are two sides to every coin, three sides to every triangle, and twelve faces to every dodecahedron. Constantly subverting expectations, Hilda leaves you comfortable with the unfamiliar and reveling in the mystery. As her stories unfold in myriad different ways (more than just running from trolls, there are dragons, cloud spirits, water spirits, a man made of wood, called Wood Man, who does not respect boundaries at all, time travel, seafaring pirate ghosts, the rat king, nightmare demons, elves, witches, and giants, among other things), you’re never in for the same experience twice with Hilda, building a deep world for both you and Hilda to get lost in.

Hilda straddles the line perfectly—she’s got a mind of her own and doesn’t hesitate to speak it (which often gets her in trouble), but she never comes across as whiny or entitled, but rather as a modern day knight for justice. Especially when it comes to young characters, this can be a danger—characters who believe the world should be the way they believe it should just because they believe it. Hilda never stamps her foot and throws a tantrum, she finds real solutions for the problems in her world; she is always willing to put the work in to show that she’s right, rather than just insist that she is and demand that other people see it her way. Hilda sends a message, and that message is to challenge the things that harm people, to question the world around when it tells you things you know to be untrue, and to be open and curious when confronted with the unknown. Hilda is a role model for people of any age. If more people in the world were like Hilda, the world would be a vastly better place. I think I said the same thing about Ted Lasso, but it’s no less true of Hilda. After all, this is a series about the heroes we need, it goes to figure that their traits would make the world better.

Hilda discovers unseen worlds around her, which somehow feels like an analogy, but I won’t go there right now

It’s on Netflix; I bet you’re glad I told you, since there are no other indications

I should give you some vitals of the show at this point, shouldn’t I? Hilda is a Netflix exclusive and is based on the comic series of the same name; the animation style is close to the comic book and is, frankly, beyond adorable. Hilda is cute as a button. Twig looks eminently pettable. Friends Frida and David are as endearing as kids come. The elves, including Alfur, another nigh constant companion of Hilda, is as charming and lovable as a glorified stick figure can be. I mean, honestly, the paperwork- and bureaucracy-loving elves are essentially stick figures with various hats and levels of facial hair, but they are so adorable it doesn’t even make sense. Even the trolls are kind of cute sometimes. Oh, and did I mention that Hilda is voiced by the actress who played Lyanna Mormont in Game of Thrones? She’s no less a badass in this roll as she was when she took on a giant wight. She and everyone else does a fantastic job lending their voices to these rich and well-developed characters. It also should be mentioned that the show features a diverse cast of characters; it’s a female-driven show for sure, with most of the main characters being girls or women, but there are important male characters as well, and a variety of skin colors and ethnicities are represented in the show. There’s something here for everyone; there are characters on screen that just about anyone can see and say “Hey, that person is like me”. And much like Camp Cretaceous, this is presented as being normal, uncontentious, and unremarkable; the show doesn’t call attention to it or hold up diversity as a chit, it’s far more subtle. Subtle enough that if you’re not paying attention, you just might miss it, which is great; there’s no tokenism here. Because that just shows it as a regular, common thing; people of all races and genders should be able to get along without that being an issue and maybe the more people see that happening, the less resistance we’d have to it.

One of the unique things about Hilda is that there really isn’t a villain. There are conflicts, but no real villains. There’s tension and there are stakes, but there’s not a malicious force behind it. Sure, there are opposing forces to Hilda, but her antagonists are not often painted as truly villainous—sometimes misguided, sometimes folly, sometimes unfair, but there really isn’t anyone to hate in the show. Perhaps the mad scientist comes close. Also, a character shows up in the second season who you could almost consider a villain, but he’s wrapped in so much unearned pompousness, ignorance, and occasional buffoonery, that it’s hard to see him as anything other than a pantomime villain. And deep down, he’s not really much of a bad guy at all. You’d think this would lead to ponderous storytelling, but it really doesn’t, partly thanks to the variety in kinds of stories that I mentioned before, but mainly to the smart dialogue and snappy pace the writers lend the show. We’ve seen comics hit the small screen with grueling, bumper-to-bumper rush hour pace that crushes you; shows like Deadly Class and Preacher, for example. But Hilda doesn’t have that problem. It’s breathless when it wants to be, it slows down when it needs to, and it never encourages you to look at your watch.

This is a show I tell everyone to watch. I try to do it sneakily as possible, telling my friends with small kids first, mentioning that “I came across this show somehow” and “but it looks really cool, it has some intense scenes that could be scary for kids under 5, but overall I think it’s okay for kids that young or younger”. But here I am, telling everyone now. This show is excellent for people of all ages.

For all the potential pitfalls of having a message to begin with, the lessons of Hilda are simple. When there is injustice in the world, fight it. When something is wrong, stand against it. When people care for you and you care for them, stick by them when they need you. Do these things to the best of your ability, however little that may be. Approach the world with empathy and curiosity. Don’t let someone else dictate how you’re supposed to act, how you’re supposed to feel, or who you’re supposed to be. And these are lessons that anyone, of any age, can stand to learn.

Empathy, curiosity, and the strength of your convictions—these are the lessons of Hilda