Reviews
[Review] Hyperviolent “The Boys” is the Perfect Antidote to Superhero Fatigue!
Editor’s Note: this is a full season review with very minor spoilers.
Between Marvel and DC’s output, and Marvel’s latest penchant for re-releasing their hits back into theaters, superhero movie fatigue can be a real thing for some. Especially when they seem to reboot some of their properties every few years with the same origin story, but new cast. Enter Amazon Prime Video’s new series The Boys, based on Garth Ennis’ comic book series of the same name. Instead of being heroes, the Supes in this series are more corporate tools and corrupted by fame and power. In a world where the good guys aren’t actually good and the authorities can’t do much about it, it’s up to a vigilante group known as the Boys to take them out. Often in the goriest and most darkly comedic fashion.
Developed by Eric Kripke (Supernatural) and executive produced by Seth Rogen (Preacher), The Boys stars Jack Quaid (Tragedy Girls) as “Wee” Hughie Campbell, our entry point into this richly rendered world. Hughie lives a comfortable life working at an electronics store and in love with his girlfriend Robin. But in a span of seconds during an opening scene, Robin steps off the curb of the sidewalk only to get plowed into by lightning-fast superhero A-Train (Jessie Usher). Robin literally explodes from the impact, leaving Hughie shocked and covered in her viscera, and A-Train can’t even be bothered to stop or care.
A-Train is part of the Vought Corporation owned superhero team known as The Seven, a sort of warped version of the Justice League lead by the ruthless Homelander (Antony Starr). The Boys’ leader Billy Butcher (Karl Urban) has a personal vendetta against Homelander, and recruits Hughie in his quest to stop these superheroes by any means necessary.
For fans of Ennis’ series, don’t expect an identical duplicate in this screen adaptation. You can, however, count on Kripke to have a fundamental understanding of the material and retaining its core essence. As hyperviolent and gory as this series gets, Kripke keeps the characters’ arcs and heart front and center to ground the extraordinary. There are major changes, but there are also plenty of subtle nods to the comic too- like Queen Maeve’s (Dominique McElligott) unspoken affinity for gin.
At only eight episodes long, the inaugural season moves at a swift pace that begs to be binge-watched. The mysteries behind certain character motivations and the truths locked behind Vought’s closed doors propels the story forward, but the character interrelationships become just as compelling as the unpredictability of violence that often brings at least one jaw-dropping moment per episode.
The cast is nothing short of remarkable. Urban is Billy Butcher, ferocious and secretive, and Quaid makes for the perfect, sympathetic audience proxy in this strange universe. From lead roles to even minor cameos, the entire cast is stacked with surprising names and talent from beginning to end. Above all, that’s what makes The Boys special. The characters, made complex by both the writing and the actors, consistently test our allegiances thanks intricacies and depth found with every new reveal. We become invested in all of them as the series progresses. The journey may have started with Hughie, but Kripke seamlessly shifts The Boys into an ensemble piece tethered by Hughie’s moral compass.
No corner is left unexplored in the possibilities of a world where superheroes’ fame and power can lead to darker impulses. Vigilantism takes on a wholly different tone and meaning in The Boys than it did in Gotham city, and it makes sense. Not a frame or second is spared in crafting this nuanced and darkly humorous universe drenched in blood and violence, either. All eight episodes are expertly crafted and constructed to tell one cohesive story that will make you gasp, guffaw, and cheer in equal measure. The Boys presents a wildly entertaining superhero story that has genuine stakes, and it’ll leave you begging for more.
The Boys will premiere on Amazon Prime Video on July 26, 2019. Don’t miss it.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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