This review contains spoilers for the first three episodes of The Boys Season 4.
The Boys Season 4 premiere hits like anti-superhero déjà vu. Showrunner Eric Kripke reshuffles the series’ deck but deals out eerily similar hands in these three episodes. Billy Butcher’s (Karl Urban) crew hatches schemes to terminate Homelander (Antony Starr). New caped allies fill empty slots in The Seven, aligning themselves with Homelander’s #SupeLivesMatter agenda. If you’re still enamored by The Boys and its “M for Mature” take on spandex-clad commentaries, rest assured – you’ll still savor the same flavors. For those who felt betrayed by Season 3’s finale? Or complain The Boys is losing momentum? Season 4 won’t do anything to assuage your frustrations.
Butcher’s behavior throughout Episodes 1-3 is the only aspect that suggests The Boys can learn new storytelling tricks. Can a terminal diagnosis soften his merciless and bloody-knuckled brash personality? A more compassionate Butcher is a welcome diversion for Urban, who capitalizes on opportunities for his performance to color outside the British brawler’s outlines. Butcher chooses not to betray his teammates, and affectionately converses with Ryan (Cameron Crovetti) over foosball instead of force-feeding him sedative-laced cookies. Butcher’s mortality ushers in a tingle of regret for his past actions, and sees him try empathy on for size. He’s still the same Butcher who barbarically impales a supe henchman’s head on a crowbar, but now with moral fibers that make us believe even the nastiest bastards can change. We’ll see if Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s Joe Kessler ruins Butcher’s redemption arc. In this version of the story, Kessler is an old agency ally of Butcher’s, who encourages his meaner, scorched-earth tactics, not his newfound sympathies.
Parallels between bitter rivals stay strong in Season 4. Both Butcher and Homelander confront death – Homelander just spirals infinitely harder. Episodes 1-3 capture Homelander’s mid-life crisis like the gray pubic hairs in his secret, sealed jar. Starr’s performance flexes spontaneous evils with usual excellence, but so far in Season 4, it’s more about what goes unsaid. Homelander’s Aryan-ass Superman gets caught staring into voids, the only audible sound a faint tinnitus pitch as a glazed-over Starr gazes ahead like a defeated statue. Homelander’s obsession over his everlasting legacy, Ryan’s Mini-Me upbringing, and a “purified” world where supes enslave humanity nudges him closer to catastrophic breaking points. We’ll be rewarded someday with Starr’s full-blown psychotic meltdown, and it’ll be glorious – but Kripke sure is taking his damn time.
Butcher’s cohorts seem overwhelmingly distracted by internal demons at the start of Season 4. There’s no easing into MM’s (Laz Alonso) stint as The Boys’ captain – he’s immediately distressed by the position’s hardships. Frenchie (Tomer Capone) falls in love with an ex-assassination target’s all-grown-up orphan son, who, in an added complication, happens to be working at Annie January’s (Erin Moriarty) Starlight House headquarters. Hughie (Jack Quaid) can’t catch a break when a stroke puts Hugh Sr. (Simon Pegg) in the hospital, which feels cruel at this point given everything Hughie’s endured (it’s still nowhere near what he endures in the comics, but still.). Kripke jumps back into the proverbial shit feet-first, which feels like overkill, even over a three-episode premiere. The show’s repetitive structure doesn’t hide, dampening and darkening The Boys’ moods before there’s even a chance to suggest alternatives.
Vought International’s ranks don’t fare much better, succumbing to their own predictable patterns. Like I said in my spoiler-free Season 4 review, Firecracker (Valorie Curry) is Alex Jones, X-Men’s Jubilee, and Stormfront all rolled up into a camo-wrapped package. Comparisons between Curry’s grossly antisemitic conspiracy slinger and Stormfront make the ditzy Vought mouthpiece feel too obvious an addition to the main ensemble. Vought’s acting CEO, Ashley Barrett (Colby Minifie), is again belittled by Homelander and The Seven – but quitting Vought under Homelander’s regime is a death wish. The Deep (Chace Crawford) abuses the same emotional cycle, demanding worth not from his octopus lover Ambrosius, but from colleagues who treat him like garbage. Speedster A-Train’s (Jessie T. Usher) doublecross against Vought is a juicy development, though – he’s bound to be found out, and it’ll be exciting when he is. The other members of The Seven are starting to feel more like cutout props behind Homelander, so A-Train’s legitimate heroism is a forgiving touch.
Brainiac Sister Sage (Susan Heyward) is the far more fascinating addition to the team, handpicked by Homelander thanks to her superhuman intelligence. Sister Sage asks Firecracker what the pedo-accuser is selling her audience, and the exchange perfectly assesses both characters. Firecracker’s fraudulent leadership is exposed when she answers “a purpose,” something Joe Six-Pack can believe so he feels significant, while Sister Sage displays her unique ability to logic past carefully market-tested supe facades. Sister Sage immediately establishes herself as a frontrunner for Season 4 MVP with the way her blunt truths challenge Homelander’s ego – something his sycophantic followers can’t muster.
But don’t despair, sickos and freaks: There’s still plenty of indecent action spectacles on display, too. Episode 2 crashes a Marvelous Ms. Maisel bat mitzvah celebration with gunfire and swingin’ dongs (Supernatural regular Rob Benedict plays said dong-swinger), Episode 3 unleashes Kimiko (Karen Fukuhara) on Shining Light footsoldiers as Frenchie hallucinates rubber duckies, and there’s even a revolting Human Centipede recreation (the slurping sounds [shivers]). Bless Will Ferrell’s hilarious awards-bait cameo, Vought’s Mortal Kombat ripoff (Lamplighter’s Fatality is a gory delight), and especially Vought’s holiday ice show, as Homelander amusingly lasers a figure skater in half while she’s singing about keeping “Christ” in “Christmas.” Kripke excels at plastering a stupid smile on our faces, and that depraved juvenility keeps Season 4’s first few episodes afloat.