‘Gen V’ Proves That There’s Still Life in the Superhero Genre
The “Vought Cinematic Universe” continues expanding in this delightfully abrasive spinoff of ‘The Boys’
It may be a controversial admission in 2025, but I still enjoy superhero movies. Of course, I can’t confess that without offering some context. I’m aware of their flaws. Since Marvel’s Infinity War saga (and well before it, if we’re being honest), the world of superheroes has grown into something deeply convoluted. With too many costumed men in tights to keep track of, too many cosmic threats to count, and enough lore to make even the most canon-obsessed redditors shudder, it’s hard to deny that the genre has its issues.
And yet, there’s likely no series of films that’s fulfilled the escapism function for me as dutifully as the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). It’s the epitome of turn-my-brain-off-and-lose-myself-for-a-couple-of-hours entertainment. I set aside the plot holes and enjoy the soar-over-skyscraper excuses for CGI excess. I revel in bombast for the sake of bombast. And I quietly chuckle to myself whenever the time I’ve put into watching and understanding these interconnected franchises pays off.
The in-your-face Easter eggs and relentless fanservice that are all but intrinsic to these movies are part of the fun. “Wait a minute, I remember him from Daredevil!” I’ll realize with a smile as a theater full of unrepentant fans around me erupts in ecstatic cries. (My own fandom is of the more guilty variety.) “So-and-so silly-costumed superhero is holding that artifact from that one Avengers movie. How exciting!” I’ll think to myself with tempered enthusiasm.
From its start in 2019, The Boys tried to position itself as an answer to the viewers who’d grown weary of the ever-expanding cornucopia of Marvel and DC movies. Set in a world of its own, one of the biggest ways it separates itself from the glut of those other superhero webs is depicting its protagonists, not as beacons of nobility, but real people with real flaws.
More than just flawed, most of the heroes on display are decidedly worse than the average person. They’re image-obsessed and ego-inflated super-people who care more about the sales of their respective merchandise and success of their PR campaigns than actually saving lives. They’re part of a money-driven ecosystem that feels more a product of the world we actually live in. It abandons the wide-eyed concept of heroism that defines The Avengers and Justice League.
Following in The Boys’ footsteps, Gen V meaningfully explores the emotional weight that comes with having super-blood running through your veins. It deals with body dysmorphia and gender identity as well as grooming and the challenge of trying to remain marketable while making new friends. At the superhero university where most of the show takes place, classmates are both rivals and PR liabilities. Friendships, relationships, and alliances are all watched, measured, and ranked.
As with the show that preceded it, Gen V examines the ways that power corrupts not just the individuals endowed with it, but society as a whole. The existence of superheroes spawns corporate titans trying to capitalize on their talents. They use them as a means to alter politics and drive cultural narratives. As a result, Gen V casts a damning light on the military industrial complex, nationalism, celebrity worship, and even fascism and eugenics. While the MCU occasionally broaches such themes, it does so with a rarely-more-than-PG depth and, likewise, has an unfortunate way of sanitizing those would-be heavy issues.
Empowered by its TV-MA rating, The Vought Cinematic Universe (or VCU as fans have begun calling it), addresses weighty topics with a level of nuance and sophistication that’s as refreshing as it is overdue. It transforms the cartoonish concepts of people with the ability to manipulate metal, shoot laser beams from their eyes, and burst into flames at will — into something that feels believable. Almost.
One facet of the show that’s equal parts funny and realistic is that, rather than being thrown into walls with spine-shattering force by superpowered foes only to walk it off a few scenes later, the people who face off against these “heroes” and villains are pulverized unceremoniously. This is first illustrated when one of the VCU’s “heroes,” a man with speed akin to The Flash, accidentally liquefies an innocent bystander as he barrels past her.
Both Gen V and The Boys bring to life the dismal fates that would befall anyone rash enough to challenge such abominations of nature. At best, these scenes are hilarious. At worst, they’re downright graphic. As someone who’s grown up on South Park and zombie movies, I’m numb to the impact of such brutal satirizations and maimings. I enjoy both avenues.
The VCU also pulls back the curtain on the less glamorous side of superpowers that Marvel fails to explore: the superheroes that just aren’t that interesting — the rejects of the meta-human world. The questionably powered, D-tier heroes that have little business trying to enforce justice. When we’re introduced to Lizze Broadway’s Emma in season 1, she can shrink, but only after forcing herself to vomit. One man has the ability to turn his feet into hands, and another can house people inside his rectum like a clown car. And one woman— who also proves surprisingly useful — has the ability to grow pubic hair on command and manipulate the world around her with it. (Even the most dubious powers have their applications.)
One of the unfortunate pitfalls of the VCU continuing to balloon outward and introduce new characters is that it inadvertently falls into some of the same holes that have plagued its Marvel and DC counterparts. It satirizes them enough that the humor and intrigue never disintegrates, but as Gen V tries to incorporate characters from The Boys’ plot, some of the inclusions feel more shoehorned than essential. It succumbs to some of the same tropes that it tries to poke fun at. In more riotous scenes, the additions work well, but in its more self-serious ones, it’s hard to fight the feeling that this universe is also beginning to reach its bloating point.
In familiar fashion to Marvel and DC, Gen V spends much of its second season building up a villain (expertly portrayed by Hamish Linklater), only to let him essentially vanish. As a result, much of the buildup around him feels squandered. It reminded me of one of Doctor Strange’s biggest missteps. Mads Mikkelson’s Kaecilius could have become one of the driving forces of the franchise if given the room to flourish. Instead, he was predictably dispatched right as his arc was beginning to get interesting.
Killmonger, Kang the Conquerer, Ultron, and Hela each met similarly anti-climactic fates — maintaining the franchise’s frustrating trend of upholding such frenetic turnover rates that it makes even Trump’s first term in office look tame. Villains arrive, ascend, and evaporate within the span of single movies before being reliably replaced by new ones.
Given a full season’s runtime to work with, this tired cycle isn’t quite as grating in Gen V as in the superhero blockbusters that parade into theaters every few months. But despite all the fun, laughs, and thrills that this more adult take on superheroes provides, there are still some systemic challenges in trying to bring the world of comic books to life. The Boys and Gen V have begun to crack the code and differentiate themselves from the Marvel and DC excess that continue to exhaust and alienate more casual viewers. But they’ve still got some hurdles to overcome before they can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the genre’s greats.
I haven't watched Gen V (don't have Prime), but it sounds interesting. I've been able to see the first few episodes of The Boys, but I had a hard time getting past the despicableness of the superheroes. I might eventually get to a "love to hate" kind of relationship, but even the sexiness of Chace Crawford hasn't kept me coming back.