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3 hours ago
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Two years after we last joined its troubled teens in their battle against the forces of corporate tyranny, superhero drama Gen V is back for a second series of powerfully bawdy chaos. Release the penis-shaped balloons! Uncork the Château les Norks! But for pity’s sake conduct your celebrations quietly: Godolkin University’s clipboard-clutching new dean is in no mood for frivolity.
“Let’s be real,” he drawls during his inaugural campus address. “The previous human administration was full of shit. We can’t trust humankind. And that is why, as your new dean, I will be preparing you for this brave new world,” he continues, as the assembled superheroes-in-training – or “supes”, as they’re called – variously gulp, whoop and clench their bum cheeks.
So! New God U, new you. Specifically, new Emma (the wonderful Lizze Broadway), whose relief at her sudden release from the Elmira Adult Rehabilitation Center is tempered by the discovery that her lightly tyranny-padded seat of learning has gone full fascist.
A brief recap, then, before we get our Speedos wet. The first series of this wildly irreverent spin-off of the sublime, R-rated superhero satire The Boys ended with Emma and fellow supes Marie, Andre and Jordan being stitched up by Homelander after their discovery of the clandestine, Vought-run medical/torture facility known as the Woods. (Homelander, for those not yet au fait with The Boys, is the psychopathic superhero figurehead of dastardly corporate cabal Vought International. Think, if you can stomach it, Trump in tights.) Got it? Good. And now? Marie (Jaz Sinclair) has escaped from Elmira and is on the run. After a valiant struggle with the powers that be, Andre (Chance Perdomo), alas, was not as fortunate. (Following Perdomo’s death in 2024, the decision was made not to recast the role.)
Back at Godolkin, Emma and fellow releasee Jordan (London Thor/Derek Luh) are greeted by a grinning wall of suits and forced to read to the press a Vought-approved “victory” speech that turns out, perhaps unsurprisingly, to be rubbish. Jordan, understandably, is suspicious. Not least of Dean Cipher (yes, Cipher), whose densely bearded presence Jordan is convinced they spotted “more than once” at Elmira. “He was a doctor or something,” the bi-gender shapeshifter tells a characteristically open-mouthed Emma. “And now he’s the dean? I mean, who the fuck is this guy?” Who indeed. Facts, discovers Emma, are thin on the ground. “I mean, the name ‘Cipher’ is a little on the nose, honestly …”
Cipher is played by Hamish Linklater, which is in itself a little on the nose, honestly. Is there anyone as adept at extravagant, nay, luxuriant creepiness as Hamish “Midnight Mass” Linklater? Let us discuss. Actually, let’s not. Let’s just accept that there isn’t. And then allow ourselves a gander at the actor’s spectacularly unnerving MO, albeit from a safe distance (the International Space Station, say; or crouched behind Emma during one of the bits where she suddenly goes big and all her clothes explode off). In addition to his stocks-in-trade (not blinking, being tall, speaking slowly in a sad voice before suddenly blurting out something unconscionable very quickly indeed), this particular Linklater performance comes with a range of Gen V-appropriate accessories. These include a set of ample action-eyebrows and a proclivity for calling those few, brave young supes who disagree with his belief in supe-supremacism “race traitors”. So, y’know, yikes.
Unsurprisingly, campus unrest begins to mount. Humans are subjected to increasing harassment from the loutish, Cipher-emboldened frat-supes, while hopelessly naive activists scamper around daubing the word “Resist” over posters of Homelander’s spray-tanned fizzog.
Elsewhere, as this second series unfurls its cape, it’s a joy and a relief to discover that it is business as usual. There are several outrageous, monocle-fogging set-pieces, including a gratuitous full-frontal male locker room scene complete with prosthetic thunder-dong. (What is it with Gen V and penises? Have 5,000 words on my desk by evensong.) There is an enormous amount of swearing and violence, much sweet-natured navigating of still-unformed teenage belief systems, several mildly confusing references to events in The Boys (the fifth and final season of which arrives next year) and many, many perfect jokes about the endless commodification of mental health and gender identity.
But isn’t all this zippiness, this pinging between tones and genres a bit, well … throwaway? Ultimately, yes! But then, aren’t most things these days, when you think about it? Gen V is aware of its own limited relevance in the grand scheme of things but has embraced its small role with pluck and charm. It’s all part of its pinball patchwork of superhero tropes, romance, comic book baddies, thumpingly broad political satire and penises. Oh, so many penises. Enjoy!
