If you were to take a time-traveling child from 1985 and show them the 1987 film Masters of the Universe after said hypothetical child watched the new 2026 Masters of the Universe, said child would have to conclude that the 1987 movie was made later, and as an attempt to reboot the franchise as a darker and grittier fantasy epic. Because, as much as director Travis Knight makes sure that the new Masters film winks and jokes about the colorful and hyperbolic cartoon roots of the 1980s He-Man phenomenon, the truth is, a child with no knowledge of nostalgia or the nature of visual effects would view the new film as a straight-up, big-kid movie version of the 1983 cartoon. This is a tonal paradox that shouldn’t work at all, but somehow holds together. Just like a broken magical object can, for some reason, reconstitute itself, the triumph of the new Masters of the Universe is that its magic simply works through sheer force of will, rather than any logic or reason.
Then again, trying to make sense of the fantasy world of Eternia has never really been the right approach when rebooting He-Man. As much as one might appreciate the lore and world-building of the 2002 reboot animated series, or Kevin Smith’s more recent earnest attempts with the Netflix series Masters of the Universe: Revelation, one of the key things that Knight’s film seems to understand is that you have to make the silliness the entire point. At the same time, Masters of the Universe has a ton of heart, and might be one of the best feel-good summer blockbusters in years. It also provides a counterpoint to the notion that sword-and-sorcery fantasy has to seem realistic to be compelling. The beauty of Masters of the Universe isn’t just that it captures the tone and feeling of the Filmation cartoon, but that it also brings to life the lush fantasy art, originally from William George and Rudy Obrero, that adorned the toy boxes. Masters of the Universe is a colorful romp that puts even the wildest Guardians of the Galaxy film to shame.
