Amazon’s Masters of the Universe arrives early in the blockbuster season to try its hand at turning the 1980s toyline into a blockbuster spectacle. 

Long stewing in Development Hell (Snake Mountain), ever since the Dolph Lundgren-starring movie based on the 1980s Mattel toy line didn’t receive a sequel, the big question has always been how the franchise could return: straight-laced and fairly gritty like the 1987 take or tongue firmly in cheek?

Well, in the post-Barbie world (He-Man’s stablemate), it tries to be a bit of everything. The result is a glorious assault on the senses, packed with nostalgia to the point it could wear an ‘I heart 80s’ sticker. But, also dragging along a gleefully postmodern take on the toyline, original Filmation cartoon, and the sword-and-sorcery genre, its mega-budget (apparently up to $170m) has a lot to cover; its attempt to do a lot with a pretty simple plot isn’t entirely successful, but it is fun.

When the capital city of the planet Eternia comes under devastating assault from evil forces, Queen Marlena (Charlotte Riley) sends her young son, Adam (Artie Wilkinson-Hunt, then Nicholas Galitzine), and the Sword of Power to safety on her home planet, Earth. Only, the prince and sword are separated on the way, and it takes over a decade for him to track it down in a collectables shop, after stewing in a flatshare and working in… Human resources. 

Rescued by his childhood friend Teela (Camila Mendes), Adam reunites with the royal master of armouries, Man-at-Arms (Idris Elba), to galvanise the remaining forces of good, rescue his father King Randor (James Purefoy) from Snake Mountain, and vanquish the cackling, skull-faced foe Skeletor (an unrecognisable Jared Leto). Could the Sword of Power reveal him to be the fabled Champion of Eternia?

Barbie was a smash hit, so it makes sense that the latest Mattel mega franchise draws inspiration from it. In fact, it flips it, having Prince Adam (the soon-to-be-He-Man) break through from our world to the magical dimension of Eternia.

Other than that, there isn’t much to it. That pretty simple plot is tacked onto the screen with a whole lot of style (even as it tests its CGI). Masters of the Universe sounds and (mostly) looks fantastic. First, there’s the masterstroke of getting Daniel Pemberton on board. From the soaring synth anthem that instantly establishes this magical universe, the composer chucks in everything—including Brian May and a well-applied dose of The Cure; it’s a great example of a soundtrack meeting then elevating its source material.

Masters of the Universe often feels like a vibrant rock opera. As the riffs pile up, it has the distinct feel of a constant encore, with some long-haired, cut-off-tee rock gods rinsing their fretboards for all they’re worth. It’s got that sense of excess hanging around, or waiting, a bit too long, and the set-pieces don’t quite fill in for that. A battle in Skeletor’s throneroom and a climactic showdown in Castle Grayskull are feats of choreography, but don’t feel epic. It’s often hard to tell where Amazon’s money went.

Fortunately, Masters of the Universe has a few elements that take our mind off worrying about the retailer’s wallet. Masters of the Universe has its meta-edge of course, and a throughline of romance between Galitzine and Mendes, who keep the chemistry stoked. Then there’s the Skeletor show. Extraordinarily, Leto probably delivers a career-best performance as the camp, faceless villain, with meanness, snarky comments, and comic timing to spare. The only other character to match is Kristen Wiig’s Marvin-the-Paranoid-Android-aping turn as Roboto. Overall, it may have been wise to rein in the broad comedy (Fisto jokes get quite the outing) to keep the threat high, but a lot of the jokes land and almost forgive some clanging missteps.

The inevitable cameo by Lungdren is extraordinarily long and weird, one of the times the meta-jokes go wrong. Incredibly, the niche chuckling in-joke nods to the Filmmation series (that the film acts as a prequel to) are more successful. 

It’s generally impressive how much of the DNA from the toyline and cartoon has carried over to the film—director Travis Knight clearly loves the material—even if it emerges in 2026 quite differently. But one weird theme lingers after The Darkness’s take on the 80s cartoon theme rolls over the credits. Like Barbie, Masters of the Universe has a lot to say about recollection, reality and nostalgia. When Adam finally reunites with his father, it turns out the baggage he’s carried for years, which has shaped his view of his upbringing and destiny, was never really there. Questioning memories is a curious and rather concept-breaking thing to include in a film where success depends on stoking the hazy memories of 40 years ago from a pretty small audience. That’s probably a bigger gamble for Amazon than greenlighting an exorbitant budget in the first place. But for those in the target audience, it offers an irresistible toy box. And Evil Lyn (Evil Lyn? EVIL LYN?) has her sights on a sequel.