The Boys Season 5 review:
The joke of Pagliacci the clown, as made popular by Alan Moore’s Watchmen comics, is a tragicomedy tale. As the joke goes, a man goes to a psychiatrist to find a way to become full of happiness for which the doctor recommends him to go watch Pagliacci, who is in town along with the entire circus. To which, the man replies, “But doctor, I am Pagliacci.” Eric Kripke’s The Boys is a similar tale of people trying to restore meaning in a ruthless world, which is presented in a satirical manner. In its swan song, The Boys sheds forced edginess and directionless storytelling from the previous seasons to a narrative that is propelled forward only by what is needed. With this simple switch, the series is completed in a holistic manner, without losing its identity.
Creator: Eric Kripke
Cast: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Antony Starr, Jensen Ackles, Karen Fukuhara, Laz Alonso, Erin Moriarty, Tomer Capone, Chace Crawford, Nate Mitchell
Streamer: Prime Video
The Boys has always been a satirical retelling of the real world. The first two seasons took in the full dark comedy style, and then switched it up for a dramatic style for the third and fourth season. But with its fifth season, the series seems to have found its true style by settling on a grounded and no-nonsense storytelling. The focus on politics and references to the real world is instead given to the humane moments that the characters go through. For a series that is filled with characters who are in danger of dying at any point, the final season had a lot of characters to juggle and storylines to complete. But we are able to either sit with death or the end of their journey, as we are given moments of silence to sit with it, rather than reactionary cinematography/editing or music.
The humane moments in writing are also fleshed out by the performances of the lead cast, especially Karl Urban as Billy Butcher and Antony Starr as John/Homelander. Butcher and Homelander are two sides of the same coin. The former has his identity defined only by rage and revenge, while the latter has his identity defined by rage and vindication. In a quiet moment with a former talent manager, The Legend (Paul Reiser), Homelander with his super hearing finds out that The Legend’s heart is still calm, realising that The Legend is not afraid of him. In this quiet moment, Homelander lets go of the one man who saw him as human and offered sympathy. Starr is supremely terrific in these moments, expressing momentary satisfaction, inner conflict, and melancholy all in a matter of a few seconds. Meanwhile, the only time we see Butcher, the man with an unstoppable will, sad is when someone close to him passes away. In losing that character, his hope for the world and even the probability of some good in it dies too. After going from blind narcissism, to compromise, to renouncement, Urban is still able to convince the audience of the polarising change that Butcher undergoes, without the help of dialogues.
The rest of the cast ably carry their characters to the finish line of their stories. Hughie (Jack Quaid) and Mother’s Milk (Laz Alonso) are two humans caught in a world of Supes, hence for Quaid and Alonso, the burden of not having a superpower as a metaphor is also something they carry. But Quaid and Alonso, play their parts of being the paragons of hope and integrity, respectively, with great finesse. On the other side, Jensen Ackles as Soldier Boy is a charismatic addition to the final season. Ackles’ as the hollow and self-absorbed Soldier Boy, goes toe-to-toe and stands tall against his co-performers.
While there are many such positives, one element that drags the series down are certain logic errors. In a particular scene, The Deep (Chase Crawford) conveniently forgets how to swim or that he can breathe underwater. In another, Homelander's super hearing is ignored, to accomodate a fight that happens a few rooms away. These mistakes take the audience out of the series, and bring down the momentum of the narrative.
The final season of any series is bogged down by the “expectations” that it sets for itself. In its long goodbye, The Boys shake off the expectations and take the simpler route to drive home its core theme: in the brightest day and in the blackest night, always do the right thing.
