My expectations for Masters of the Universe were low for several reasons. Chief among them, 2026 has been absolutely bleak in terms of movies based on intellectual property geared toward male audiences. The Super Mario Brothers Galaxy Movie was so soulless that it left me considering my own mortality, while Mortal Kombat II made me realize the bar for nostalgia-bait is in hell. 

Besides that, it’s not like He-Man and his friends have made for good movies before. 1987's Masters of the Universe — starring with Dolph Lundgren — was considered a flop with critics and audiences. Then the first trailer for this relaunch dropped in January, and while it looked fun, it sparked fury from conservative He-Man fans because of a shot that revealed He-Man has pronouns. I'm going to write that again: Some men were furious on X that He-Man has pronouns. (If you somehow missed that particular internet outrage, I envy you.) 

Basically, I assumed Masters of the Universe would be catering to the same audience that yells about pronouns and cheers lifeless video game movies. And then on top of all that assumption, I knew Jared Leto is playing Skeletor. 

Leto is a notoriously an actor who gives his audience nothing (Tron: Ares, Morbius) or way too much (Suicide Squad, Dallas Buyers Club, The Little Things). Him playing Skeletor seemed guaranteed to be much too much. 

So it is with no small amount of shock that I confess, I really enjoyed Travis Knight’s Masters of the Universe.

Maybe the lesson here is to look past the optics and look to the filmmaker. As a producer at Laika Studios, Knight has overseen the creation of jaw-droppingly gorgeous and deeply entertaining animated adventures like ParaNorman, The Boxtrolls, and Missing Link. As a director, he's helmed Kubo and the Two Strings and the Transformers spinoff Bumblebee, both full of adventure, fun, and heart. Masters of the Universe has much more in common with these movies than the ones catching strays in the previous paragraphs. 

Masters of the Universe refuses to take its IP seriously. And thank the gods for that. 

Written by Chris Butler, Aaron Nee, Adam Nee, and David Callaham, Masters of the Universe imagines a scenario in which a young Prince Adam of Eternia is jettisoned from his kingdom after the villainous Skeletor invades. As he grows up on Earth, he speaks endlessly of noble heroes like Ram Man (Jon Xue Zhang), Mekaneck (James Wilkinson), and Fisto (Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson) — much to the bewilderment of the humans around him. 

Cut 15 years later, a grown-up Adam (Nicholas Galitzine) believes he is destined to return to Eternia to save his family and friends from the tyrant Skeletor. But for now, he works in human resources, where he has learned how to communicate his feelings and empathize with others. And yes, there’s a sign on his desk that shows his name, Adam Glenn, and his preference for he/him pronouns. 

However, once Adam rediscovers the Sword of Power, he finds his way back to Eternia, where the heroes are all baffled by this young man and his foggy memory of a childhood here. It turns out these soldiers were not known as Ram Man and Fisto. But rather that that was how he thought of them, and they are not thrilled when Adam offers the logic for the nicknames, like "because you fist people." 

This silly subversion allows Masters of the Universe to embrace the nostalgia of the toys, the cartoon series, the movies, and the memes that followed, while also recognizing some of them are got pretty ridiculous. By refusing to treat this IP as sacred, the filmmakers open the door for characters to be lively and funny, and not just a stiff recreation of plastic action figures. 

Masters of the Universe embraces '80s nostalgia. 

Knight and production designer Guy Hendrix Dyas celebrate the cartoon show and its merch line by painting Eternia in a vivid color palette of reds, greens, oranges, purples, and pinks. Richard Sale's costume designs are reminiscent of the characters' signature looks, including colorful body armor and dramatic silhouettes. Yet even before the movie returns to Eternia, cinematographer Fabian Wagner injects verve into Adam's earthly routine with whip-pans and zooms, enhanced by a "swishing" sound effect to give an echo of cartooniness. 

The soundscape is fleshed out with a soundtrack that pulls from the '80s (Queen's "Princes of the Universe") or evocative of it (The Darkness's "Master of the Universe"). Composer Daniel Pemberton's score likewise screams with synthesizers, electric guitars, and hammering drums, calling back to an era of hair metal and stadium rock n' roll. Even Adam outside his He-Man persona has an '80s theme. Reflecting his softer side, The Cure's "Boys Don't Cry" plays over a montage of him failing to fit in on Earth.

Props to Galitzine, who has thrilled critics with funny turns in three very different comedies: Bottoms, The Idea of You, and The Sheep Detectives. He is a perfectly lovable clown as non-superpowered Adam Glenn. Then, bulked up and loin-clothed is a convincing He-Man, delivering might blows with fist and sword in imaginative battle scenes. Yet, he never loses his wide-eyed sense of wonder or earnest vulnerability. 

Why will the Manosphere be mad at Masters of the Universe? 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, manhood is a big theme in He-Man's story. As a boy in Eternia, he is introduced as being a head shorter than all the other children training to be warriors (boys and girls alike). He is reluctant to go to weapons training, then"disarms" his opponent by capering and cracking jokes instead of mastering the staff. His father sneers at his lack of fighting prowess, so once they're separated, Adam is fixated on becoming a man his dad would be proud of.

Once he's grown, Adam seeks to bulk up at the gym, asking a familiar face for advice. And instead of tips on how to bench, a certain Swedish action star gives Adam a lesson in building self-assurance rather than seeking outside validation. Still, being his own man is a challenge. Along the way, Adam will flub flirtations, resulting in getting "friend zoned" by his childhood bestie Teela (Camila Mendes), and confound the macho men — including a punchy Idris Elba as a drunkard Man-At-Arms — who don't know what to make of his attempt to host a teamwork seminar instead of a war room speech. 

Essentially, Masters of the Universe suggests that real men are not just those who can build muscle or achieve a macho facade, but those who can recognize their own feelings and self-worth, and find victory not through brute strength but team-building. 

And then there's Leto's take on Skeletor, which was also my favorite bit. 

Jared Leto is absolutely magnificent as Skeletor. 

The cartoon villain who has a skull for a face and a body made muscle-bound blue skin is manifested into visual effects marvel in Masters of the Universe. Watching Skeletor strut, snark, and fight, I couldn't be sure what was practical costuming effects and what was computer-generated imagery. And I don't care, because Leto and the VFX team have built an epic villain, who's sure to be a campy icon. 

I surprise myself by admitting Leto is a perfect choice for a cartoon villain with no face. Little red lights in the ocular cavities serve as his eyes. And while his skinless visage cannot smile or frown, Skeletor's jaw makes a lot of dynamic movements to convey attitude. You're never unsure what he's feeling, partially because of Leto's florid physicality, but most because of his truly wild vocalizations. 

This is more Leto in Haunted Mansion mode, where he played the menacing Hatbox Ghost. Far from the nasal Skeletor voice from the cartoon show, Leto has embraced a villain tact that feels inspired by '80s action movies, where the bad guys were often loquacious, erudite, queer-coded, and British. This makes Skeletor not just menacing but also mad fun. Like Tim Curry in practically every villain role he's played from Rocky Horror Picture Show to Home Alone 2: Lost In New York, Leto relishes being the baddie here.

His Skeletor practically purrs when threatening minions with violence and growls salaciously when demanding answers from his second-in-command, the sorceress Evil-lyn (Alison Brie in a cunty blonde bob that feels like an intensional White Lotus nod). But this devil is most fun when he's heckling He-Man. There's a campy villainy to the way Skeletor gleefully mocks the hero while unapologetically noting Adam's big sword and thick thighs. But my favorite bit comes when Adam demands a fair fight, "face-to-face" and Skeletor scoffs in response, saying "1) I don't have a face, and 2) I don't want to." 

Mark my words: Drag queens will be lip-syncing to this version of Skeletor before Pride month has ended. And I suspect Knight and Leto expect no less. 

In the end, Masters of the Universe is a wonderfully entertaining adventure that dodges the pitfalls that makes so much IP adaptations tedious. Knight delivers a colorful film with a point of view, not just a sales pitch. The nostalgia delivers thrills without treating its source material as a sacred text above critique or silliness. The cast is terrifically game to embrace Knight's playfulness, especially Elba in bumbling rogue mode. Galitzine shoulders the fight scenes and humor with aplomb, while Leto channels his over-the-top tendencies into a gloriously outrageous villain.