He-Man Movie Review: A Not-So-Typical Superhero Origin

When I initially heard about Hollywood producing a new He-Man movie, I tweeted, “Nobody Anytime: We Need a Movie About He-Man’s Origins.” After watching it, I feel like I owe He-Man an apology.

Unlike Skeletor, who proudly embraces his role as a villain, the narrow-minded leaders behind institutional DEI initiatives genuinely believe they’re the good guys. It’s this self-righteousness that adds a layer of humor to the movie.

What I failed to grasp was that America doesn’t require another superhero origin story. Instead, we needed a film that playfully skewers the absurdities of woke HR departments, DEI training sessions, and the corporate jargon that leaves countless office workers daydreaming of escape.

In that sense, He-Man manages to deliver something meaningful.

If that were the only contribution of the film, it would still deserve recognition. For years, Americans have faced endless lectures about privilege, bias, microaggressions—basically a lexicon of buzzwords that pop up in corporate retreats. An entire industry has cropped up to warn us about how dangerous “ordinary” people can be.

For a long time, making fun of these topics was practically forbidden.

Then came He-Man.

Watching “Masters of the Universe” transported me back to the classic days of “The Office,” where Michael Scott awkwardly navigated a diversity workshop in a comical bid to impress Mr. Brown. Back then, workplace humor often tackled the ridiculousness of HR departments.

But it’s been two decades since “The Office” aired, and that brand of humor seems to have faded. Now, it’s less about poking fun at corporate absurdity; the joke feels more like it’s on us.

Employees often speak in rehearsed phrases, transforming meetings into exercises in virtue signaling. Any conflict could be labeled a “learning opportunity,” and every awkward moment had the potential to be deemed a microaggression. White men, oddly enough, were made to feel accountable for historical injustices while being silenced in discussions about them.

Enter Adam.

Yes, He-Man himself.

A blond, muscular hero—essentially the archetype Hollywood has long claimed it couldn’t portray without a wave of apologies.

The film surprisingly manages to deliver a villain who unabashedly claims his villainy.

When Adam confronts Skeletor, he offers him a chance to explain his evil behavior through the lens of trauma or societal issues, but Skeletor simply states, “No. It’s just me.”

Imagine that—a villain who doesn’t blame societal constructs for their choices. A classic antagonist who revels in being bad.

Honestly, Hollywood hasn’t produced many of those lately.

Yet, the most captivating aspect of this film isn’t the action; it’s actually Adam’s experiences in human resources.

In one scene, Adam listens as a woman describes her “truth” that directly contradicts another’s. His solution? Use the vague, therapeutic lingo that has become a staple in modern offices: talk less, listen more.

Anyone who’s endured mandatory workplace training can relate.

Then we meet Susie.

Susie is Adam’s Earthly boss and arguably one of the most accurate portrayals of a villain in recent cinema.

On the surface, she’s cheerful and endlessly supportive; underneath, she’s manipulative and controlling.

She leads a DEI workshop focused on “consensual listening.” Just like Adam, the audience quickly finds themselves struggling to stay awake.

Later, when she catches him browsing for a magical sword during office hours, she summons him into her office.

It’s not a request; it’s a command.

During their chat, she adopts the patronizing tone many executives perfect. Everything revolves around emotions; she’s uncomfortable with conflict, insisting on a “safe” work environment. Communication is vital.

Then, for just a moment, her facade slips. A hint of menace surfaces, showing her true nature.

Quickly, she hides it again behind layers of therapeutic terminology.

Anyone who’s spent time in a big organization can recognize some version of Susie.

Most of us may never face skeleton warriors bent on universe domination, but we have endured conferences filled with empty slogans parading as wisdom. We’ve sat through meetings where we were told not to judge anyone by race but then were instructed to interpret all interactions through a racial lens, blaming it on “whiteness.” We’ve witnessed DEI initiatives that are, frankly, comically deluded.

These moments resonate because they highlight more than just bureaucratic absurdity; they lay bare hypocrisy.

Unlike Skeletor, who embraces his role as a villain, the narrow-minded enforcers of institutional DEI culture believe they are champions of justice. They genuinely think that through their workshops and discussions, they are rewriting history, fostering fairness, and enlightening the ignorant.

It’s their self-righteousness that provides the humor.

While a philosophical discourse can outline the dangers of hypocrisy, comedy brings a unique power to the table.

Comedy teaches us to laugh at our shared ridiculousness.

And once that laughter starts, the spell begins to dissolve.

The film wraps up with hints of a sequel. Are we in for “He-Man 2”? Who knows, but let’s hope we’re not looking at a sequel to the DEI and anti-racism ideologies that have reigned too long in our culture.

Let’s chuckle at it instead and make it relic of the past.

And if there’s time, let’s discuss how the entire He-Man saga is just another iteration of the classic hero’s journey.

Just a little aside—that’s the academic in me talking.