Travis Knight’s Masters of the Universe almost nails it. It’s a funny, vibrant reboot with a big heart and even bigger designs on the definition of machismo, compartmentalising nostalgia so that something more earnest and forward-facing can emerge. It’s also an ugly and frustrating film, because despite being packed with great moments and ideas, it can’t help but feel messy, fragmented, and unwilling to commit to itself.
The plot is straightforward: Adam Glenn (Nicholas Galitzine), prince of the fantasy planet Eternia, escapes to Earth after the warlock Skeletor (a pitch-perfect Jared Leto) imprisons its rulers. Entrusted with a magical sword he’s since lost, Adam spends his days daydreaming about how to return to his homeworld. When he does get home, he finds himself at the centre of a desperate war for Eternia’s soul, one that only he can stop.
Masters of the Universe offsets its negatives with a doozy of a positive: Jared Leto. The guy makes for a tremendous Skeletor, losing himself in a hurricane of villainous theatrics and outclassing everyone around him. He’s deliciously one-note, too, something the movie straight-up tells us on numerous occasions. That’s the confidence, the shamelessness we need to see, and that’s precisely what Masters of the Universe lacks.
Besides Leto, Galitzine, and Idris Elba as Man-at-Arms, Masters of the Universe doesn’t bother to develop its supporting cast. Teela (Camila Mendes), a sloppily rendered Cringer (voiced by Tom Wilton), and Evil-Lyn (a lost-looking Alison Brie) are present but lifeless, moving from scene to scene without anything substantial in which to ground their performances.
Masters of the Universe‘s top priority is to broaden our definition of strength, to establish He-Man not as a caricature of machismo, but as someone who prefers talking to fighting, whose true power lies in his empathy. To sell this new version of the character, though, the script needed to showcase his ability to solve problems and relate to people without decking them. We never see that happen, which makes his eventual revelations about himself – the revelations that allow him to win the day – feel unearned and out of left field.
There’s also the matter of its humour, which often undermines the rampant – and necessary – cheesiness of any self-respecting Masters of the Universe movie. During the final act, we get a triumphant, slow-motion group shot of He-Man and co. walking through a cloud of dust. It’s a fabulously corny shot, but rather than let that moment exist as is, the filmmakers rush into an easy visual gag.
It’s a franchise built on a bunch of Mattel action figures. Let it be campy.
