As the superhero genre teeters on the brink of self-parody, ‘The Boys’ remains audaciously relevant, skewering not only its caped contemporaries but the society that consumes them

Anthony Starr as Homelander in ‘The Boys’ Season 4

The year has been fairly devoid of comic book cinema now that superhero fatigue seems to have chronically set in. While the genre is still beleaguered by formulaic plots and diminishing returns, Prime Video’s fourth season of The Boys continues to disgust and disturb with unabashed gusto, serving up a razor-sharp antidote to prosaic supe storytelling.

Having established its super-saturated universe with its previous seasons, and a spinoff at Godolkin University last year, Season 4 wastes no time diving into the rancid morass of its characters’ psyches, with a slower more contemplative approach.

Homelander, still terrifyingly portrayed by Antony Starr, grapples with an existential crisis as he scrutinizes a single golden pubic hair with aghast. Starr’s portrayal captures the essence of a god grappling with his own mortality, his manic episodes, punctuated by moments of eerie calm (think Squidward crippled by the monotony of Tentacle Acres).

A still from the ‘The Boys’ Season 4

With his power more unchecked than ever before, Homelander seems simultaneously self-assured and deeply insecure about the sycophancy surrounding him. This dichotomy is embodied in his obsessive need to control everything around him, including his own son, in a desperate attempt to cement a legacy that will outlast his own fading supremacy. This fixation on his legacy and creeping mortality adds a fascinating new layer to one of television’s most terrifying villains, making his descent into madness all the more menacing.

Fresh faces in the Seven like Sister Sage (Susan Heyward) and Firecracker (Valorie Curry) add dangerous spice to the already potent mix. Touted as the world’s smartest person, Sister Sage becomes a conniving player in Homelander’s machinations, while Firecracker, an alt-right conspiracy peddler, feels like a character ripped from today’s headlines and exaggerated to revolting extremes.

The Boys themselves are in fine form. Frenchie (Tomer Capone) gets a beefier (albeit rather tedious) sub-plot, navigating a complicated relationship, and Kimiko (Karen Fukuhara) decides that the only way to come to terms with her past is to kill it. Hughie (Jack Quaid) and Mother’s Milk (Laz Alonso) wrestle with their own personal struggles, while Butcher (Karl Urban) displays unexpected depth fueled by a terminal diagnosis, balancing his ruthless vengeance with a reluctant paternal instinct. While they feel more filler than usual; these arcs provide a rough emotional backbone that grounds the season amidst its latest batch of outlandish antics.

Karl Urban and Laz Alonso as Billy Butcher and Mother’s Milk in a still from ‘The Boys’ Season 4

With an election year setting for an election year release, The Boys continues to wield satire with a gut-busting (quite literally) abandon, holding up a cracked mirror to the contemporary American political landscape. Homelander channels the narcissism of authoritarian bullies in power, his orange undies and populist bluster a not-so-subtle nod to a freshly convicted tangerine tyrant. Vought International, the show’s sprawling, corrupt conglomerate parodies the insidious influence of big business in politics, turning corporate malfeasance into a twisted art form. By dialling these elements up to grotesque extremes the series offers a biting commentary on the fragile state of democracy and the insidious nature of power in the 21st century with unnerving accuracy.

Of course, it wouldn’t be The Boys without its signature hyperviolence and depravity. So far, we’ve already had the pleasure of witnessing a few standard procedure Homelander laserings, a couple faces being pulverized beyond recognition and some auto-erotic Human Centipede. Oh, and The Deep is still at it with the octopus.

Despite its pointed statements testing the limits of human nature and societal decay, the series retains its cynical sense of optimism. Where the moral didacticisms of superhero franchises are either imploding or stagnating, The Boys seems to stand defiantly tall, its blood-soaked cape flapping in the wind, all while making us laugh, gag and wince at the absurdity of its own diabolical existence.

The Boys Season 4 is now streaming on Prime Video