Is One Tree Hill good? It’s a question that usually gets two very different answers depending on who you ask. If you talk to someone who grew up in the mid-2000s, they’ll probably get misty-eyed and start humming the Gavin DeGraw theme song. If you ask a hardcore prestige TV critic, they might roll their eyes at the soap opera theatrics and the "dog eating a heart" plotline. Yes, that actually happened.
Honestly, the show is a bit of a chaotic masterpiece. It started as a grounded, moody exploration of two half-brothers—Lucas and Nathan Scott—competing for playing time on a high school basketball team and the attention of a father who abandoned one and suffocated the other. It ended, nine seasons later, as a high-stakes thriller involving kidnappings, international music tours, and high-fashion empires. To understand if it's worth your time in 2026, you have to look past the surface-level melodrama.
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Why the Scott Brothers Still Matter
The central conflict of the early seasons is genuinely fantastic television. Mark Schwahn, the creator (whose legacy is now heavily tarnished by well-documented misconduct allegations from the cast), built a world that felt lived-in. Tree Hill wasn't just a backdrop; it was a character.
Lucas Scott, played by Chad Michael Murray, was the brooding, literary outsider. Nathan Scott, played by James Lafferty, was the privileged, arrogant athlete. Most shows would have kept them as enemies for years. One Tree Hill didn't do that. It forced them to grow. Watching Nathan’s redemption arc—from a literal villain to a devoted husband and father—is arguably one of the best character developments in the history of teen dramas.
It’s about more than just sports. Basketball is the vehicle for their trauma. When you watch the pilot now, it feels surprisingly cinematic. The lighting is moody. The soundtrack features bands like Jimmy Eat World and Dashboard Confessional. It captured a very specific "emo" aesthetic that feels nostalgic rather than dated.
The "Bridge" Generation of Television
You’ve got to remember that this show existed in a weird middle ground. It wasn't quite the glossy, high-fashion world of Gossip Girl, and it wasn't as gritty as The O.C. could be. It was earnest. Sometimes, it was too earnest. Characters quoted Steinbeck and Hemingway in voiceovers while staring at the rain. It was cheesy? Absolutely. But it felt sincere.
That sincerity is why the fanbase remains so rabidly loyal. The show leaned heavily into its music, featuring real-life artists like Fall Out Boy, Sheryl Crow, and Lupe Fiasco at "TRIC," the all-ages club that somehow allowed teenagers to run a multi-million dollar music venue. If you love early 2000s alt-rock and pop-punk, the show is basically a time capsule.
The Adult Transition Trap
Most teen shows die when the characters graduate high school. Think about Glee or Saved by the Bell. One Tree Hill took a massive gamble by doing a four-year time jump at the start of Season 5. No college years. No awkward dorm room plots. We just met the characters again at age 22.
- Peyton Sawyer (Hilarie Burton) was struggling in the music industry in LA.
- Brooke Davis (Sophia Bush) was a world-famous fashion mogul.
- Lucas was a published author with writer's block.
- Nathan was dealing with a career-ending injury.
This jump saved the show. It allowed the writers to tackle adult problems like bankruptcy, career failure, and complicated marriages. It’s also where the show started to get "good" in a different way. It stopped being a show about basketball and started being a show about how the traumas of your youth follow you into your twenties.
The Reality of the "Cringe" Factor
We have to be real here: the show has some truly insane moments. If you are looking for a show that stays 100% realistic, is One Tree Hill good for you? Probably not.
There is a sequence in Season 6 where a character is waiting for a heart transplant, and a dog literally trips the courier, causing the heart to fly across the hospital floor and get eaten by a Golden Retriever. It is peak camp. It is ridiculous. But by that point, the audience was so invested in the characters that they just rolled with it.
Then there’s the Dan Scott of it all. Paul Johansson’s portrayal of the villainous father is Shakespearean. He is a man who murdered his own brother in cold blood and spent the rest of the series trying to find redemption. It shouldn't work. It’s too over-the-top. Yet, Johansson’s performance is so magnetic that you find yourself rooting for a murderer by the series finale.
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Behind the Scenes: The Darker Side of Tree Hill
You can't talk about the quality of this show without acknowledging the environment in which it was made. In 2017, several female cast members and crew, including stars Sophia Bush, Hilarie Burton, and Bethany Joy Lenz, signed an open letter detailing the "traumatizing" behavior of the showrunner.
Knowing this changes how you view certain scenes. You see the female characters being pitted against each other or put in overly sexualized situations, and it takes on a different weight. However, the cast has since reclaimed the show through their "Drama Queens" podcast. They’ve been very transparent about what was happening off-camera, which actually provides a fascinating layer of meta-commentary for modern viewers. It makes you respect the performances even more because you realize what these actors were navigating in real life.
Why People Still Binge It in 2026
The staying power comes down to the core trio of women: Brooke, Peyton, and Haley.
Brooke Davis, especially, is the heart of the series. She starts as the "party girl" stereotype and evolves into the most capable, resilient, and empathetic person on the screen. Sophia Bush gave that character so much life that Brooke basically hijacked the show. Most fans will tell you they stayed for Brooke, not the Scott brothers.
The chemistry is also undeniable. Because the cast spent nearly a decade filming in Wilmington, North Carolina—away from the distractions of Hollywood—they became a legitimate family. That bond translates to the screen. When they cry, it feels real. When they laugh, it doesn't feel scripted.
Is One Tree Hill Good? The Final Verdict
If you want a fast-paced, high-concept thriller, move on. If you want something to put on while you fold laundry that will eventually make you sob uncontrollably into your detergent, this is it.
The first four seasons are essential viewing for anyone interested in the history of the "teen drama" genre. Seasons 5 through 9 are for the devotees. The show is flawed, it’s messy, and it’s occasionally absurd. But it also deals with grief, abandonment, and friendship with a level of intensity that few modern shows can match.
It’s "good" because it isn't afraid to be "too much." In an era of cynical, detached television, there is something refreshing about a show that unironically believes that "there is only one Tree Hill, and it's your home."
How to Start Your Rewatch (or First Watch)
- Commit to the first six episodes. The pilot is strong, but the show finds its real rhythm once the "Raven" basketball games start carrying actual emotional stakes.
- Pay attention to the music. Keep Shazzam or a Spotify playlist ready. The show’s curation of mid-aughts indie music is legendary and serves as a better emotional guide than the dialogue sometimes does.
- Watch the "Drama Queens" podcast alongside the episodes. Hearing Hilarie, Sophia, and Joy talk about the filming process adds a layer of E-E-A-T (Experience, Expertise, Authoritativeness, and Trustworthiness) to the viewing experience that you won't get elsewhere.
- Skip the Season 8 filler. If you find yourself getting bored toward the end, feel free to fast-forward. The Season 9 finale is worth the wait, but the road there gets a little bumpy during the middle of the final act.