gen-v (season 1)

I was admittedly sluggish when it came to embracing Amazon’s popular adaptation of The Boys, mostly due to my mixed feelings where the Garth Ennis/Darick Robertson comic is concerned… little did I realize that just about everyone appears to hold said comic in at least some degree of contentious regard. Initially a brilliant and darkly comedic superhero satire, the series swiftly devolved into an outlet for all of Ennis’s worst creative impulses (it doesn’t take long for the notion of literally every superhero being either a sexual deviant, sociopath, or closet homosexual to grow deeply wearisome). What was initially biting quickly became stultifying, and more than a little desperate in its one-note cynicism. The best thing creator Eric Kripke did with the TV adaptation was downplay the puerile shock value and emphasize what was always most compelling about the comic’s setup - the conceit of superheroics being just another billion-dollar corporate brand, beholden to optics and shareholders and marketing strategy in the exact same way as the Apples and Coca-Colas and Starbucks of the world. The end result has been one of the defter adaptations in recent memory, one in which virtually every character - from Butcher to Homelander, and just about everyone populating the figurative battlefield in-between - has proven wholly superior to their comic-book counterpart. 

Spin-off series Gen-V shifts the satirical focus to the no-less-fertile arena of higher learning, following the collegiate “supes” of Godolkin University as they prepare for a life of superpowered public service (one of the running jokes is that only a select few actually study crimefighting; most of them major in performing arts). For freshman Marie Moreau (Jaz Sinclair) - a hemokinetic who’s able to psychically manipulate blood - admission is a literal lifeline; she’s spent the past several years in a hardscrabble group home following personal tragedy (an opening sequence that rivals the fate of Hughie’s girlfriend in The Boys pilot for sheer fist-to-the-gut shock value). Marie intends to keep her head down and make the most of this opportunity, but it isn’t long before she gets mixed up with the campus elite, the crème de la crème (with their enviable top ten status on the school’s official leaderboard to prove it), led by BMOC Luke (Patrick Schwarzenegger), the aptly named “Golden Boy,” who’s got a ticket straight to the Seven waiting after graduation. But events take a dark turn… and Marie and her new friends soon get wind of the fact that the school is operating a clandestine research facility known as “The Woods” that, well… does precisely the sort of fucked up shit that nestles very agreeably within the established universe of The Boys.

One wishes the plot demands of Gen-V weren’t quite so aggressive. The stakes rapidly escalate, yet it’s difficult to shake the alluring tug of campus life… the show is arguably at its best - or at least its most fun - when filtering the traditional college experience through its deconstructed comic book lens (we feel like prospective students who just want to ditch the campus tour and go exploring on our own). A sequence in which Andre (Chance Perdomo, a Chilling Adventures of Sabrina alum, just like Sinclair) attempts to impress a girl at a club with his magnetic abilities, only for it to go horribly wrong, perfectly encapsulates the franchise’s modus operandi. If The Boys stripped away heroic idealism to suggest the sobering reality of what happens when human neuroses and moral shortcomings are fused with god-like capabilities, Gen-V explores a similar scenario - only with emotionally unequipped kids who barely understand how to navigate their day-to-day lives, let alone how to wield great power with great responsibility. Several cast members stand out. Maddie Phillips, as Luke’s girlfriend Cate, is precisely the sort of willowy beauty that’s populated decades worth of generic teen dramas… but she eventually reveals herself to be arguably the most tragically damaged of the bunch (the emotional stress on her sylphlike frame causing her eyes to literally leak blood by the finale). Jordan has the ability to seamlessly swap sexes - a clever riff on non-binary identity - and London Thor and Derek Luh (as the character’s XX and XY iterations) do a commendable job synching the physical nuances of their performances. The show’s breakout star, however, is undeniably Lizze Broadway. As Marie’s perky roommate Emma - better known as YouTube star “Little Cricket,” who can shrink herself mouse-size by emptying the contents of her stomach - Broadway is the season’s “WTF” showstopper… a scene in which she infiltrates The Woods and burrows into a guard’s ear canal (taking a gruesome detour through his cranial innards) is as plainly outrageous as anything that’s happened on The Boys (to say nothing of a drunken hook-up that incorporates her powers in a rather - shall we say - *indelible* fashion). But Broadway, for all her sweet effervescence as a performer, also captures Emma’s insecurities with heart-rending vulnerability - you just want to hug her tight (the show is perhaps a touch heavy-handed in the way it equates superpowers with teenage self-harm - Marie accesses her abilities by cutting, Emma by purging).​

Marie finds her hopes of anonymity dashed as she rockets up the university leaderboard and becomes an overnight media sensation… the satirical bite of Vought International’s insidious tendrils being laced through every facet of the college experience proves tart and tasty. Academia, it turns out, has a facade every bit as manufactured as the rest of the corporation’s portfolio. The season eventually introduces the long-awaited character of Tek Knight (played by Derek Wilson), a Batman-sendup who has otherworldly powers of deductive reasoning but also a tumor in his brain that compels him to screw anything resembling an orifice (be it a bathroom hand dryer or a tree trunk). As the pompous host of the true crime series The Whole Truth, he is - not surprisingly - a notable upgrade on his insipid comics counterpart (a raging sex addict - yawn)… but the character never quite pops. There’s almost limitless potential in the Godolkin student body (date rapist Rufus - who utilizes his telepathic abilities like a Rohypnol substitute - gets his just desserts in glorious, graphic fashion), but Gen-V - it would seem - has more pressing ambitions. The big, bloody campus climax features a welcome cameo and would appear to dovetail into the upcoming fourth season of The Boys. That might disappoint some would who prefer the series didn’t evolve into precisely the sort of sprawling, Marvel-esque “shared universe” that it once mercilessly mocked, but the creative forces at work deserve a bit of faith. So far they’ve hardly put a foot wrong.