Men's Lifestyle June 2, 2026 0 Comments

Unlock the Surprising Power of Masters of the Universe: What They’re Really Teaching Us About Strength and Success!

So here we are, in a world where being a franchise feels like trying to keep a souffle from collapsing—after the pre-COVID blockbuster mania, those epic universes that had your coworkers desperately Googling “Infinity Stones explained” are now passé, and the 80s nostalgia? Yeah, it’s worn out like your old gym shoes after a decade of workouts. Yet, here stomps in Masters of the Universe—a massively expensive flick based on toys from way back when, aimed at the forty-somethings who used to watch Saturday morning cartoons (yep, that includes me at 34). Opening on June 5, it’s stepping into a ring crowded with edgy Gen Z films like Obsession and Backrooms that get what today’s young adults are really sweating about—the fear of asking out that crush or even just stepping outside. The box office already looks like a tough grind, partly because Mattel isn’t exactly a household name for newbies, and partly because muscle-bound heroics are starting to feel like reruns of reruns. But here’s the twist: Masters of the Universe might just surprise you—it rocks, and it does so with more heart than you’d expect. Want to dive into why this film might be the gritty, colorful reprieve we all didn’t know we needed? LEARN MORE

It’s hard being a franchise these days. Gone are the pre-COVID monolithic blockbusters that compel your coworkers to type “Infinity Stones explained” in Google. Amid fatigue for cinematic universes and 1980s nostalgia fatigue—a prolonged cultural fascination worn thin by Stranger Things—in comes Masters of the Universe, a wildly expensive summer movie based on decades-old toys for men now in their forties. (I’m 34, for the record.) The movie opens on June 5, and while the first weekend of Pride is wide open for He-Man, it faces stiff competition in Obsession and Backrooms, two Gen Z films that better speak to young adults and their shared fears of asking out their crushes and going outside.

Box-office tracking is grim. Part of it is general unfamiliarity with the Mattel brand beyond the grown men who watched it on Saturday mornings. Another part of it is because it’s another action-adventure movie when square-jawed, broadsword-wielding heroism and villainy feel painfully old hat. Two years ago, Mattel struck lightning with another one of its brands turned summer hits in Barbie, though its lethal combination of a slam-dunk Margot Robbie and the viral “Barbenheimer” phenomenon had more to do with its $1.4 billion gross than its themes of commodified womanhood. Right now, even Star Wars can’t outdraw a horror-thriller about empty rooms. Such is the uphill battle faced by Masters of the Universe opening weekend.

Here’s the crazy thing, though: Masters of the Universe also, actually, rocks.

Anchored by a hunky Nicholas Galitzine and helmed by Travis Knight (whose background in stop-motion animation informs his careful approach to epic stories) Masters of the Universe is pure, classic summertime escapism. Galitzine stars as Prince Adam, whose home world of Eternia falls under the evil Skeletor (Jared Leto, in a frustratingly fantastic performance). After his exile to Earth, Adam grows up and lands a desk job. But all the while, he never stops dreaming of swords and heroes he swears are real, even when he’s mocked by peers and scares away Hinge dates. When his old crush Teela (Camila Mendes) shows up, he goes off to rediscover his lost powers.

Swap out the words “Masters” and “Universe” with “Guardians” and “Galaxy” in the title, and you can already imagine what kind of movie we’re talking about here. However much the original series was a bizarre beast of Frank Frazetta-style epic fantasy and comical whimsy—even “fans” forget Skeletor was always a try-hard diva—Masters bears an uncanny resemblance to the quip-loaded Marvel tentpoles that worked ten years ago but induces groans now. But Masters knows how to swerve where most superhero films snag. The colors are cranked up and clear, the costumes and living cartoon characters are wonderfully brought to life, the action is zippy and (importantly) visually coherent, and its core messaging is more profound than its plastic surface implies.

On X, a glowing post by film critic Darren Mooney saw him draw comparisons with I Saw the TV Glow, Jane Schoenbrun’s mystifying 2024 horror about a young person questioning reality in connection to their favorite Buffy-esque TV show. Schoenbrun’s subversive and generally un-commercial filmmaking style, to say nothing of the pronounced transgender subtexts shaping their work, led to confusion, bafflement, and skeptical intrigue towards Mooney’s comparison. When a user challenged Mooney to elaborate, he started making sense. “I think it is a film about childhood nostalgia and gender roles, and about the idea that sometimes the body that you are told you should be in is not the body that you belong in, and how conforming to expectations of gendered performance can be self-destructive,” Mooney wrote.

Photo Credit: Giles Keyte

Nicholas Galitzine fleshes out He-Man in Masters of the Universe.

No, Masters of the Universe is not interesting in the same way I Saw the TV Glow is interesting. One of them allowed an artist to wrestle with the incongruity of their physical self with the world inside of them; the other sells popcorn buckets. (Although I would have totally bought a Pink Opaque-themed bucket.) But while “deep” isn’t the best word for Masters of the Universe, it invites intelligent readings still. The movie is about fighting to reconcile the person you are from the person you know you are, even when the world insists otherwise.

While chuds may (and likely will) vibe with a brawny hero overpowering his soft, pronoun-centric mundanity to reclaim his lost heritage, there’s enough depth in Masters to see it as a “Barbie For Men” that keeps a tight grip on its themes about masculinity. Adam never wavers in his belief about his personhood, but even when he’s validated, he’s continually challenged by the flamboyant Skeletor about his worth. Masters of the Universe is a triumphant, feel-good adventure about the power of having absolute faith not just in yourself, but about yourself. Wherever you fall on the political or idealogical spectrum, you have to recognize the awesome power that message has on impressionable 11-year-olds.

To be clear, it’s a great thing that more personal (and original) movies from twenty-something directors are in vogue. The way Curry Barker and Kane Parsons are making waves are echoes of the New Hollywood crop like Spielberg (26 when he made Jaws), Coppola (24 during Dementia 13), and Kubrick (23, for Day of the Fright). Only time will tell if Barker and Parsons actually pan out as generational talents. But just as the Westerns died to remake Hollywood back then, the demise of the superhero industrial complex means the field is ready for young voices who’ve honed their craft on YouTube. It seems wrong in this moment to encourage folks to see Masters of the Universe, the most IP movie imaginable backed by Bezos-owned Amazon MGM. But when a movie actually has the power to resonate, it’s worth paying attention. Otherwise, it’s Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves all over again, and we’ll keep asking why they didn’t make another one.