Everybody Still Hates Chris - Season 1 -

Tim Johnson Jr. as Chris is the revelation. He doesn’t try to imitate Tyler James Williams’s specific cadence. Instead, he captures the essence : the exhaustion, the quiet intelligence, the desperation for a single win. His Chris is slightly more cynical, which works for an animated context where characters can get away with darker, quicker asides.

The creative team made the brilliant decision to keep Crews and Arnold on board as the voices of Julius and Rochelle. Hearing their voices come out of animated characters is an immediate emotional shortcut back to the original series. Crews, in particular, thrives in voice acting, his larger-than-life personality perfectly suited to Julius’s hyperbolic frugality.

Having watched all ten episodes of Season 1 (which premiered in late 2024), the answer is a surprising, emphatic yes . Everybody Still Hates Chris – Season 1 is not a lazy cash-grab. It is a masterclass in adaptation, using the freedom of animation to amplify the show’s core themes while retaining the heart that made the original a classic. It’s sharper, faster, and visually more imaginative, but at its core, it’s still the story of a lanky, good-hearted kid trying to navigate a world that seems determined to knock him down a peg. The premise remains unchanged. It’s the early 1980s. Chris (voiced with perfect adolescent weariness by Tim Johnson Jr.) is a teenager growing up in a working-class family. His father, Julius (Terry Crews, reprising his role from the live-action series in voice only, with booming energy), is a master of financial austerity, turning off water heaters and re-gifting jelly of the month club subscriptions. His mother, Rochelle (Tichina Arnold, also returning), is the fierce, no-nonsense anchor of the family, whose love is expressed through threats and impeccable hair.

An episode about a racist shop teacher who assumes Chris stole a calculator is handled with brutal, satirical efficiency. Adult Chris’s narration cuts in: “In the 80s, if you were a Black kid in a mostly white space, you didn’t have to steal anything to get in trouble. You just had to exist.” The scene then cuts to a surreal courtroom where the prosecution is a jury of calculators. It’s absurd, but the point lands. Everybody Still Hates Chris - Season 1

For 22 years, the name “Chris Rock” has been synonymous with a specific kind of cringe-worthy, laugh-out-loud nostalgia. From 2005 to 2009, Everybody Hates Chris ran for four seasons, adapting the teenage years of the comedy legend into a stylized, sitcom version of 1980s Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. It was a show that balanced the poverty of Roseanne with the surreal narration of The Wonder Years , all filtered through Rock’s uniquely sharp, observational wit. When it ended, fans mourned a classic.

For fans of the original, the show is a warm, familiar hug—with a few sharp elbow jabs to the ribs for good measure. The returning voices of Crews and Arnold act as an anchor, while Chris Rock’s narration is as brilliant as ever. For newcomers, the show is a perfect entry point: a self-contained, animated comedy about the universal hell of being 13, no matter the decade.

is a standout. The animation shines as Chris navigates a new, slightly more integrated school. The hallways are drawn as a chaotic jungle, with lockers as territorial watering holes. When Caruso shoves Chris into a trash can, the show does a slow-motion, dramatic recreation of a war movie death scene, complete with sad violin music and Chris’s voiceover: “Every time I died in school, I got resurrected just in time for third period.” Tim Johnson Jr

The show doesn’t preach. It uses the distance of animation and the hindsight of history to highlight how ridiculous and persistent these injustices are, without ever letting the message overwhelm the jokes. Everybody Still Hates Chris – Season 1 is a triumph of creative risk-taking. It honors the legacy of the original while forging its own identity. It is funnier, faster, and visually more inventive than its predecessor, even if it sacrifices a small measure of the original’s raw heart.

So, when Paramount+ and CBS Studios announced Everybody Still Hates Chris , a reimagined, animated sequel series, the collective eyebrow of the internet raised. Did we need this? Could a cartoon capture the specific, grounded magic of the original live-action show?

Streaming now on Paramount+ and Comedy Central. Instead, he captures the essence : the exhaustion,

What does it lose? A little bit of the raw, human pathos. Live-action allowed you to see the real tears in Tyler James Williams’s eyes. Animation, even when expressive, creates a layer of abstraction. A cartoon character getting humiliated is funny; a real kid getting humiliated is sometimes painful. The original walked that line perfectly. The new show leans slightly more toward the “funny” side, which makes it a more consistent comedy but slightly less emotionally devastating. One of the smartest decisions in Everybody Still Hates Chris is how it handles race and class. The original show was unflinching in its depiction of microaggressions and systemic poverty. The new show doesn’t soften those edges; it just finds new ways to present them.

Does everybody still hate Chris? Yes. Absolutely. But after this spectacular first season, audiences are going to love watching him suffer.

closes the season on a high note. The dance sequence is animated like a cross between Saturday Night Fever and a horror movie. Chris, determined to ask Tasha (voiced by Keke Palmer), must first survive a montage of Greg’s terrible dance lessons. The final scene, where Chris is left standing alone as the disco ball lights swirl around him, is both hilarious and heartbreaking—the perfect distillation of the show’s tone. What the Animation Adds (and What It Loses) The shift to animation is largely a victory. It solves the original show’s biggest limitation: budget. In 2005, a scene of Chris imagining himself as a Jedi was a quick, low-fi gag. In 2024, that same joke becomes a fully animated Star Wars homage with lightsabers, TIE fighters, and a Darth Vader voiced by Laurence Fishburne (a hilarious guest spot).

His younger brother, Drew (Ozioma Akagha), is effortlessly cool, handsome, and popular—the golden child Chris can never compete with. His little sister, Tonya (Terrence Little Gardenhigh), remains a chaotic agent of mischief, capable of destroying Chris’s life with a single, well-timed lie to their mother. And then there’s Greg (Gunnar Sizemore), the nerdy, neurotic best friend whose obsessive love for sci-fi and fear of everything provides the perfect foil to Chris’s reluctant heroism.