It is not merely the 1980s origin of He-Man that gives the 2026 film Masters of the Universe such a pronounced throwback feel. The attempt to construct a movie around the scattered mythology of a toy line, reviving intellectual property that few still cherish, represents a direction Hollywood has gradually been moving away from, especially on this scale.
A Shifting Hollywood Landscape
This year, box office hits have largely relied on properties audiences genuinely care about—such as Scream, Michael Jackson biopics, Mario, and The Devil Wears Prada—or, more radically, original concepts like Obsession, Backrooms, Goat, and Hoppers. We have not seen an Underworld sequel or Tarzan reboot since 2016, a Terminator film since 2019, a Dolittle reboot since 2020, or a GI Joe spin-off since 2021. Mattel struck gold with Greta Gerwig's Barbie in 2023, but that was an unconventional, auteur-driven one-off based on a product still generating over $1.4 billion annually. Various directors, from John Woo to Jon M. Chu, have been loosely attached to a He-Man movie over the years, and studios from Sony to Netflix have attempted it—Netflix reportedly spent $30 million on a failed version. Yet, as with many long-gestating Hollywood projects, those involved seemed to forget Jeff Goldblum's timeless line from Jurassic Park: 'So preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn't stop to think if they should.'
A Misfire of Epic Proportions
It turns out they should not have proceeded. Amazon's perplexing $200 million misfire fails to justify why so much time, money, and effort was squandered on a movie based on a toy that children no longer play with. Even for those who once did—including this reviewer—there is nothing clever, funny, or exciting enough to explain why the project finally got the green light. The story surrounding He-Man was always an absurdly cobbled-together excuse for making and selling more action figures. The film, directed by Travis Knight of Bumblebee fame, tries to poke fun at its own goofy silliness in one moment while taking itself seriously in the next. This indecision cripples every line, performance, and story turn. There is not enough winking ridicule to make it a knowing parody—it is also astonishingly unfunny—nor enough earnest emotion to create a rousing adventure. It often feels as if the film's four writers are deliberately working against each other, each new draft making things worse.
A Hollow Viewing Experience
The result is an extremely awkward and entirely unfulfilling viewing experience, though mildly fascinating in parts as we watch a world being built for a franchise unlikely to return. Early tracking suggests this will be one of the summer's biggest flops. File it alongside Universal's Dark Universe, the big-screen Golden Compass, or more recently, the Chris Pine-led Dungeons & Dragons—a slightly more efficient example of what this film should have aimed for.
It is also an odd fit for lead Nicholas Galitzine, better known for romantic leads in The Idea of You and Red, White & Royal Blue. He has bulked up to play Adam, aka He-Man, who was sent away from the magical land of Eternia as a child when it was taken over by the nefarious Skeletor (Jared Leto, attempting an Ian McKellen impersonation). On Earth, he works in human resources, his childhood combat training replaced by a need to defuse situations with words. When his sword is rediscovered, he is transported back home by old friend Teela (Camila Mendes) and must save his former world from evil forces.
Comparison to the Original
While the original cartoon was beloved in its time, a live-action 1980s attempt to bring it to the big screen was a much-ridiculed, franchise-ending disaster (original He-Man Dolph Lundgren makes a thankless cameo here), criticized as one of many low-rent efforts to mimic Star Wars. There are echoes of that here, along with bits of Superman and a considerable helping of James Gunn's Guardians trilogy, but nothing that feels original. The writers like to tell us things are 'getting weird' and 'a little very crazy,' but they are never weird or crazy enough. Proudly repeating this only makes the film feel more boringly normal. You can sense the struggle to cram everything in, and even at an unforgivably bloated 143 minutes, it is both busy and hollow. There are vague, underdeveloped life lessons about masculinity and balancing brain and brawn, a 'who cares' romance between two leads with zero chemistry, lazy comic support from two actors who deserve better (a drunk Idris Elba collecting franchise money and the baffling voice of Kristen Wiig as a robot), an Amazon delivery van cameo, and choppily edited action scenes that confuse maximalism with excitement. For a film that cost so much, it often looks surprisingly cheap—Hollywood needs to fix its lighting issues.
There is too much distracting confusion here—from Galitzine's unsure performance to the script's competing tones to the very question of why this needed to exist—for it to transport us as we hope and expect. You will be stuck in your seat, confused as to why you are not watching something else. Masters of the Universe is in cinemas from 5 June.
