The Boys is a fascinating series that’s been forced to reinvent itself within each season. When the series debuted in the summer of 2019, it was a satire of popular culture’s obsession with comic book adaptations; set in a world where the world’s superheroes were sponsored by the international conglomerate Vought, The Boys admonished society for treating political issues like a comic book adventure, and vice versa. It was pitched perfectly in the same year when Avengers: Endgame became the highest-grossing film of all-time, and Joker earned 11 Academy Award nominations. While the graphic novel series that The Boys was based isn’t high art, it did have a mart concept; superheroes are celebrities, and the most powerful team of caped crusaders in the world have a PR network that’s protected them from any backlash. That The Boys debuted only shortly after the #MeToo era ensured that its thesis wasn’t a theoretical one.
The parallel hit harder because of how superhero characters from Marvel and DC had been transformed into corporate sponsors for studios that may have engaged in duplicitous activities. No one cared enough about Disney’s AI endeavors or support for Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” bill to stop themselves from seeing Deadpool & Wolverine. It’s feasible to believe that “The Seven” (the superhero team in The Boys) could be filled with murderous, abusive psychopaths who still had passionate fans. Although the next few years saw a sharp decline in the appeal of Marvel and DC properties, The Boys grew more relevant. Even if some of the characters were specifically modeled after heroes in Justice League or The Avengers, The Boys trained its anger on the military, political, and media conspiracies that distracted citizens from being aware of the slights against their rights.
The fifth season of The Boys is lifted from a storyline in the original comic books by Garth Ennis that was intended to be a dark, totalitarian nightmare scenario, but could now be perceived as a metaphor for Trump’s America. Following an incident of political violence that galvanized both supporters of Vought and their detractors, the rebels Hughie Campbell (Jack Quaid), Frenchie (Tomer Capone), and M.M. (Laz Alonzo) are detained in an internment camp sponsored by Vought, which may or may not have been intended to evoke ICE parallels, depending on when the season was shot. Vought has always operated hand-in-hand with the federal government, but for the first time, its leadership has direct access to the White House. Homelander (Antony Starr), the show’s stand-in for Captain America or Superman, has President Steve Calhoun (David Calhoun) in his back pocket, with his former assistant Ashley Barrett (Colby Minifie) installed as the Vice President.
The Boys has the benefit of being a streaming show that has taken the right lessons from network television, given that showrunner Eric Kripke has decades of experience on NBC and the WB programming. While a debut on Prime Video has ensured that The Boys can be gratuitous in its content, Kripke knows how to stage a weekly show with escalating stakes. The key to any successful network series is to create compelling characters who justify returning to the show each week, and Kripke has adopted that approach for The Boys. Not all of its subplots go somewhere, but he’s assembled a strong core cast that’s withstood any occasional mistakes. Hughie and his love interest Annie (Erin Moriarty), a former superhero under the name “Starlight,” would be as painfully generic of a Romeo & Juliet-inspired romantic duo if it wasn’t for the chemistry between the two actors. Karl Urban’s foul-mouthed, pugnacious anti-superhero mercenary Billy Butcher could’ve easily been an eyeroll-inducing “edgy” anti-hero, but Kripke and The Boys’ writing team have made him the type of evil that’s only occasionally necessary.
Although most genre shows pare down to a straightforward battle between good and evil in their final seasons, The Boys has considered the consequences of indifference and martyrdom. The difference between the motivations of Hughie and Butcher is that of justice and revenge; while Hughie has understood that an all-out war would radicalize the contingent of Homelander’s supporters, Butcher has seen the destruction of all superpowered individuals as a necessary act of genocide. Butcher’s plan to unleash a virus that would kill anyone with special abilities could easily put an end to Homelander and Vought’s resurrected premier hero, Soldier Boy (Jensen Ackles), but it would also mean the death of the superpowered allies they’ve picked up over the last four seasons.
That the ethics are up for debate is a testament to the show’s breakout performance by Starr, a previously unknown Australian actor who’s created one of the most compelling television villains of the 21st century. Homelander’s means of image maintenance have given him the unfettered power of a demagogue who’s brushed off any critiques as the biases of a “corrupt media” infected with the “woke mind virus." Yet, his psychopathy doesn’t mean he’s lacking in vulnerability, because Homelander has grown so adjusted to being a superhero that he had fed off of public adoration. To eliminate Hughie, Butcher, and the others isn’t enough; he must win, publicly, and complete the narrative that he’s the nation’s savior.
It’s possible that The Boys has cost itself a section of the audience because of its nihilism. This isn’t a science fiction opera filled with bizarre creatures from other dimensions, but a human drama where the greatest threats come from within. That the world has come to be more like The Boys has posed a challenge to Kripke, who has had to fight to ensure that the series is still a work of entertainment. The Boys isn’t the best drama series of the young decade, but it may be the most representative.