Kevin Smith made a new He-Man show for Netflix. It rules.

You ever sit down and think — I mean really think — about the name "He-Man"? What is that? What does it even communicate about this character?

There's always been an inherent silliness to the classic Mattel toy line. Names like "Man-E-Faces" and "Evil-Lyn" aren't exactly born out of laser-focused brainstorms. But that silliness is now intrinsic to the DNA of anything connected to the Man who is He, and it absolutely hovers over every frame in Kevin Smith's new Netflix series, Masters of the Universe: Revelation.

The five-episode release, which amounts to one half of this new story, is for all intents and purposes a continuation of the children's cartoon that aired its last episode in 1985. Revelations' first episode, in pace and in substance, actually feels like a product of that decade. It's a great ease-in for a story that quickly shifts gears, jumps ahead in time, and redefines our understanding of the fiction.

I'm not sure there's a better geek for this assignment than Smith, who spent an entire scene in one of his early movies considering the gruesome carnal reality of Superman and Lois Lane trying to have a baby. He's good at spotting and digging into unseen angles, he's got subversive sensibilities, and — equally important for Revelation — he's not a dipshit gatekeeper about any of it. For any youthful missteps, Smith's brand of geekdom has always tilted toward being all-inclusive.

So it is now. This new vision in Masters of the Universe is certainly about He-Man, but it's not his (or his puny alter ego Prince Adam's) story — though the inevitable "I have the power!" transformation sequence is all a fan could hope for and more. But Revelation creates space for the wider cast of Eternia's heroes and villains to shine. With magic fading out of the world and its champion rendered a distant memory, an unlikely alliance forms to save all of creation.

I'm not sure there's a better geek for this assignment than Kevin Smith.

Smith isn't exactly subtle with his themes or subtext. The beginning of the end for Eternia is a direct result of the age-old struggle between He-Man (Chris Wood) and his arch-nemesis Skeletor (Mark Hamill). Now, the only hope is a crew that's led by two powerful women (and former foes): He-Man comrade Teela (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and Skeletor lieutenant Evil-Lyn (Lena Headey).

Revelation rightly recognizes that, silliness aside, there's a deep bench of compelling personalities in the He-Man-verse that are worth exploring. Orko (Griffin Newman) and Cringer (Stephen Root) are allowed to own some of the most powerful emotional beats in these first five episodes. Teela is finally given an opportunity to grapple with the fact that her old friend Prince Adam was also He-Man — a secret she never knew before.

In other words, there's emotional texture here that hasn't ever really been a feature of He-Man stories before. Smith built in twists and turns that make you feel for these characters, and those emotional beats are only elevated further by the sensational voice cast. I'm still stunned by Cringer's "I had no idea he had such depth!" monologue in the second episode.

But also, this is still a He-Man show. Revelation picks up where the cartoon left off (for the most part), and its first episode in particular feels like it could've been produced in 1985. The chunky, imperfect animation is perfectly complemented by a soaring symphonic score from Bear McCreary. The art itself has been updated with more detail and cleaner lines, but an overall lo-fi feel implicitly evokes the source material again and again.

Longtime fans will certainly thrill over the deep cut nods peppered through Revelation. Seeing characters like Scare Glow (Tony Todd) and Tri-Klops (Henry Rollins) pop up is exciting, but the real thrill comes from learning what time has (or hasn't) done to them. The same can be said of the setting. Most people of a certain age can immediately summon up a mental picture of Castle Grayskull, but Revelation gives us a chance to learn the iconic structure's deeper truths.

Not that you need to be a fan to appreciate what Smith has done here. The main touchstone for me, a mid-40s Gen Xer, is the toys. I remember the show fondly, but my clearest memories are of playing with plastic wonders like Battle Armor He-Man and the Snake Mountain playset.

The next generation of Eternia's saviors? Credit: courtesy of netflix

I followed everything in Revelation. There were references I spotted and surely tons of others that I missed, but it's the story that kept me on the edge of my seat. Smith gives viewers all the information they need to form connections and understand relationships. The wink-y moments are obvious, but in a way that's likely to inspire a dive down the wiki rabbit hole, rather than confusion.

Then there's the silliness. From Tri-Klops' transformation into the pope of a ridiculous technocult to epic one-liners like — in reference to the character Mer-Man (Kevin Conroy) — "There's something fishy about that guy," Revelation intentionally hams it up at every opportunity, and consciously so. When Teela says that He-Man has "the sense of humor of a teenager who didn't get out much," we laugh because oh how correct she is.

The only real complaint I have is the release strategy of breaking this 10-episode arc up into two content drops. That's a Netflix problem more than it is a creative problem, but it's a real bummer to know that the wait here has more to do with business considerations than it does creative constraints. The full story will be told in due time, but Revelation ends up feeling like half a story in the end — because that's exactly what it is.

I don't blame Smith for that. Really, he deserves our thanks. He-Man is a tough proposition for a modern-day update. Even just looking at the gender politics then vs. now, this is one series that could've easily been shoved aside and left to gather dust forever. But Smith, himself a product of the '80s culture that the He-Man cartoon helped to define, saw something special here. Revelation shines a light on that specialness.

Everything from He-Man's past existed for one purpose: To sell toys. The cartoon, the comics, all of it was created because Mattel developed this toy line as a response to the success of Star Wars action figures. The original cartoons, then, were toy ads.

Masters of the Universe: Revelation has a sales pitch as well. It's nostalgia first and foremost, but it's also far more than that. Smith's take is peddling the idea that even the childhood things we remember most fondly can live on in new and updated forms. They can change as the world changes. Just as it is in Eternia: The magic may be fading, but fresh faces and new ideas are always waiting in the wings to save it.

Masters of the Universe: Revelation comes to Netflix on July 23.

via Tech News Digest