Early in “King of the Hill” Season 15 — or, if you prefer, the second season of Hulu’s revival — Hank Hill ventures out on a simple errand. His goal: Buy toothpaste. His obstacle: Mega-Lo-Mart’s new security glass, which transforms a quick stop at the so-called convenience store into an annoying time-suck. Not only does Hank have to wait for an employee to amble over and help him — assistance that, by its forced necessity alone, aggravates a man who can build a cabinet faster than this kid can open one — the delay also leaves time for Peggy (Kathy Najimy) to adopt a decrepit rescue dog at the mobile station outside. Just when he thought he was out, they pull him back in — to buy an orthopedic harness for his new pet.

The scene nicely encapsulates what’s made “King of the Hill” an enduring sitcom. Hank Hill, our hero (voiced by co-creator Mike Judge), is a traditionalist challenged by a developing world. Sometimes, his distrust for a new way of doing things proves unfounded and he, however begrudgingly, adapts. (Spoiler alert: Peggy isn’t the only one who ends up charmed by the sick puppy.) Other times, his disdain for society’s so-called “improvements” checks out, like with the security measures that deter more shoppers than thieves. He’s a vent for our frustrations, as well as our guide through them.

Season 15, like the first revival season before it, is filled with classic Hank-isms. In one episode, he gets scammed by an AI chatbot and has to learn about cybersecurity. Another tests the limits of Hank’s tolerance for his friends’ tomfoolery (yes, it’s mainly Dale’s doings), while one of the stronger entries highlights his unlimited devotion to Peggy as she struggles through her first brush with menopause. In between, there are plenty of laughs, catharsis, and even moments of poignance.

It’s a good season. Quite good, even, and for many of the same reasons I cited last year. That’s the way we tend to like our sitcoms: consistent and creative at once. Creators Judge and Greg Daniels, along with showrunner Saladin K. Patterson, know exactly what they’ve got and how to use it, resulting in 10 new episodes worthy of joining the previous 269.

And yet, despite the relief and excitement felt from seeing a revival prove its worth twice over, I couldn’t shake a more pressing feeling: Will anyone care?

I don’t mean that glibly. All TV shows ask their viewers to invest their time and attention. But revivals also ask them to be vulnerable; to take their fond memories locked safely away in the past and risk them on a vision of that past brought back to life. Revivals ask us to reinvest in characters we said goodbye to long ago, and the streaming era’s crop of revivals make reinvesting feel like an increasingly risky proposition.

Recent history is littered with the remnants of heavily hyped revivals — enough that, in 2026, we can form an impression of their collective impact. And it’s not good. You could even say it’s quite bad. The hit-to-miss ratio is way out of whack, sure, but the industry’s obsession with revivals — whether they’re cherished or ignored — exemplifies Hollywood’s debilitating, short-sighted approach to TV. Not only because so many revivals die quick and quiet deaths, but because the existing systems can’t even support a good revival when it emerges.

In line with the broader, ongoing age of I.P., revival culture ruptures the critical connection between audience and characters, as well as streamers and the one thing they can’t live without: their subscribers. Why should we get excited about a revival when history tells us it won’t be as good as what came before and, even if it is, our old friends won’t be around very long?

Really, why should we care?

For “King of the Hill,” the answer is clear. It’s the exception: the rare revival that merits revisiting, and the even rarer revival that’s in it for the long haul. After initially ordering two seasons (14 and 15) when the revival was first announced, Hulu renewed it for two more (Seasons 16 and 17) once the new episodes were released. Fans can rest assured they’ll enjoy quality time with Hank through 2028.

But exceptions don’t negate the rule; they prove it, and even “King of the Hill” isn’t fully immune to modern television’s hostile operating conditions. How did we get here, to an environment where news of our favorite fictional people getting back together prompts more uncertainty than excitement? Some of it is natural. Audiences have long met revival announcements with doubt. So many are bad (“And Just Like That”), so many can’t be what they were (“Arrested Development”), and so many have to rewrite history just to exist (“Will & Grace”).

But 13 years since the Bluths returned for their ill-fated, bifurcated reunion, there are regular incentives for public unrest beyond the subjective metrics of good and bad. For one, the vast majority of franchise extensions don’t last. Among the exceptions on broadcast, “The Conners” stands out with seven seasons, “Dynasty” lasted for five, while “Will & Grace” and even “Night Court” legged out three seasons each. On streaming, some of the longest-running revivals (based on this incomplete Wiki listing) include five seasons of “Fuller House,” followed by four each for “Criminal Minds: Evolution” and “Futurama,” and then a handful of three-season runs (“Animaniacs,” “Beavis and Butthead,” “Dexter”).

For comparison, here’s a sampling from the past decade of made-for-streaming revivals that didn’t live past the age of two: “Arrested Development,” “Clone High,” “Dexter: Original Sin,” “Frasier,” “Gilmore Girls,” “Party Down,” “Punky Brewster,” “Saved by the Bell,” “That ’90s Show,” “The Twilight Zone,” and “Veronica Mars.” If that doesn’t seem like a big number to you, this list omits broadcast bombs (“Murphy Brown,” “Prison Break”), cable duds (“Mad About You”), and random outliers (my beloved “Twin Peaks: The Return”).

Some of these revivals were designed for limited runs, not stuck with them, but to one extent or another, they’re all set up to fail — which is fine for executives. The dirty not-so-secret of made-for-streaming revivals is that new episodes are only part of the overall goal. Releasing a revival — with a big marketing campaign, cast reunions, and walks down memory lane — also serves to reignite interest in the original series, which can lead to subscribers getting hooked on hundreds of preexisting episodes. Maybe they like the new episodes, maybe they just watch the old episodes, maybe they watch both and get hooked on a years-long loop of perpetual reruns (a la “The Office” addicts). No matter what, they’re paying the subscription fee.

Greenlighting revivals as a publicity tactic doesn’t exactly breed confidence in the revivals themselves, but beyond the intentional choice to produce eight new episodes as bait for eight old seasons, there are unintentional hindrances to revivals finding success in today’s TV landscape.

Take “King of the Hill.” In the original series, nine of the 13 seasons consisted of 20 or more episodes. They all aired annually, with 11 of the 13 premiering in the fall and wrapping in May. (The first season and the strike-delayed eleventh season are the only two to premiere in January — and the only two totaling fewer than 15 episodes.) The Hill family was consistent and reliable, much like Hank himself. They were a fixture in fans’ lives, forming the kind of lasting connection that would make a revival possible 15 years later.

To its credit, Hulu is releasing the new seasons annually. Season 14 came out August 4, 2025, Season 15 was released less than a year later on July 20, 2026, and Season 16 is expected around the same time in 2027. In fact, many revivals have quick (i.e. traditional) turnarounds: From “Fuller House” (new seasons every year for five straight years) to “Futurama” (four straight years and counting), it seems like hiring writers and producers who know how to make TV on a TV-friendly schedule allows for a consistent annual output. Who knew?

All that’s missing is prevalence. To put it bluntly, “King of the Hill’s” new seasons are too short. Even at a consistent clip, 10 episodes per year can’t compare to 22, and Hulu’s binge release model doesn’t help. Where old seasons were spread out over nine months, popping up every Sunday night, a new season can be consumed in an afternoon. That time matters. The anticipation for each new episode is condensed from a week to a second. The absorption of each new story is limited to the time you’re watching it. The reflection period only lasts as long as Hulu’s autoplay timer allows.

“King of the Hill” may not demand the kind of contemplation complex dramas do; why Bill Dauterive (Stephen Root) needs cuddle therapy isn’t as hard to grasp as, say, the emotional development of an eternal being. But attachments form over time, and those attachments aren’t as resilient when the time forming them gets diluted. Characters — especially sitcom characters — used to live alongside us, in our imaginations and on our screens. Now they primarily exist in the latter. They’re transient when they should be prevalent. They’re guests, when they should be friends. (You know, like “Friends.”)

The absence is felt across television. Last week, TV nerds debated why Netflix viewers weren’t tuning in for follow-up seasons of popular shows, and my first thought was: Why should they? Netflix, the Mega-Lo-Mart of streaming, has long embodied the quantity over quality programming model, hyping thoughtful dramas and brilliant comedies with the same vigor as primordial slop like “Two Assholes Fight” and “Guy Climbs Building.” Netflix made the binge model mainstream! It cancels shows with abandon! It wants you to watch it with one eye on your phone! The streamer has taught its subscribers to treat TV as disposable content, so why would anyone be surprised that they are?

TV series and the networks that release them have to give audiences a reason to care. Modern TV doesn’t always do that or even allow for it. Too many revivals undermine the preexisting connection viewers had coming in by taking shows that ran weekly and dumping new episodes all at once. They’re taking orginals that ran annually and releasing them every two or three years. They’re taking stories built to support 20 or more episodes and cutting them down to eight. These changes may not be as impactful as simply making a bad revival, but they fundamentally alter our relationship to the show. It makes them feel disposable.

Television is not a content machine; it’s a connection between audiences and characters, between people, real and imagined. The security glass isn’t helping. You have to let your customers grab hold of what they want, so they’ll keep coming back for more.

“King of the Hill” Season 15 premieres Monday, July 20 on Hulu. All 10 episodes will be released at once.