Nobody is advocating that a high-octane, thunderous spectacle akin to "The Boys" must forever remain at breakneck speed, unable to pause and delve deeply into its characters, as exemplified in the episode titled "Nothing Like It in the World." Yet, was it truly necessary for them to stretch this introspection over an exorbitant 68 minutes? That's practically feature-film territory, and hardly an adrenaline-pumping one at that. There's undeniably much to admire—Karl Urban delivering a more fragile performance than usual, the magnetic rapport between Jack Quaid and Erin Moriarty, and the bizarre, twisted turns Homelander takes with his Doppelganger—nevertheless, this installment desperately called for a sharper editorial touch, both in scripting and post-production. The narrative could have just as effectively unfolded in two-thirds the time, propelling us with greater urgency towards the season's climactic stretch, rather than giving the impression of a series spinning its wheels before reaching the meat of the matter.
"Nothing Like It in the World" revolves around defining relationships: Hughie and Annie, Billy and Becca, Homelander confronting his own reflection, Frenchie and Kimiko, and Maeve and Elena. It also underscores Stormfront's relentless ascendancy. Amazon Studios must have anticipated the online buzz that would ensue after episode three's cliffhanger, with some viewers even suggesting that the racial slur hurled by the supposed hero prior to slaying Kenji warranted a trigger warning. Given the flashback to Liberty/Stormfront's brutal encounter with a Black man following a traffic stop in this episode, similar sentiments are likely to arise. Yet, that's a discussion for another time. It's fascinating to observe how Stormfront has stirred controversy among viewers, some of whom might have initially been entranced by her straightforward demeanor. She portrays herself as the sole truth-teller capable of dismantling the system, but in reality, she's a virulently racist, Nazi-adjacent figure. Sound eerily familiar? Even her moniker strikes a different chord now compared to the series premiere.
The screenwriters largely sideline Stormfront, instead focusing on three narrative threads: Billy's quest to rescue Becca, Homelander grappling with his new status within The Seven, and a road trip to track down Liberty. Both arcs sans Homelander commence with a meeting between Billy and Grace. It transpires that a veteran supe named Liberty had infiltrated Raynor's server extensively before her demise. Before Billy embarks on his mission to locate Liberty and decipher her connection, Grace imparts the whereabouts of Becca and Ryan. They're nearby, albeit heavily monitored by Vought. Billy assigns Mother's Milk the task of seeking Liberty, while he sets out to find his wife and child. MM enlists Hughie and Annie for the journey. Road trips, anyone?
Meanwhile, Homelander pays a visit to Madelyn Stillwell! Initially, the sight of the slain Vought executive startles, but it's evident from the onset that something is amiss, not solely because Stillwell appears to be in "Homelander Fantasy Mode," toting her own breast milk and donning a revealing ensemble. It's unveiled that this is, in fact, Doppelganger assuming Stillwell's guise for the amusement of the world's most celebrated superhero. The word "creepy" barely scratches the surface, particularly in the climactic scene. We'll get to that in due course.
The two "normie" arcs in this episode unfold with a predictable rhythm, lingering far too long on their mundane tasks. It's heartening to witness Laz Alonso finally being granted more screen time than his previous allotment, yet the driving and social exchanges among MM, Hughie, and Annie prove to be a slog. They traverse the heartland, chatting animatedly until they arrive at the abode of someone tied to Liberty, who recounts a harrowing tale from her youth. At just 11 years old, she bore witness to Liberty murdering her brother, insulting him as a "black piece of shit" before carrying out the deed. Subsequently, she was bribed into silence. She unveils that the monster known as Liberty is none other than the current Stormfront—an immortal, murderous racist who has defied the passage of time and seemingly discovered a means to resurface with renewed strength in 2020. How chilling.
While the legacy of Stormfront's malice is being delineated, Billy makes his way to Becca. She evades surveillance by informing her superiors of her intention to visit a bridge for a smoke, but instead reunites with her husband. Urban excels in these scenes, albeit they stretch on excessively and conclude in a manner lacking in credibility. The wedge between Billy and Becca forms when she discovers his intention for them to flee... but not with Ryan. He intends to abandon the child, envisioning a new life solely with her. Billy's scheme is far too clever for such a blunder. Though he may lack a bond with Ryan, he must surely realize that Becca possesses one; it's simply an unrealistic plan. Moreover, it seems like a tacky device to sever Billy from Becca, who has been his driving force throughout the series, first in avenging her perceived death and then in seeking her out upon learning of her survival.
Returning to Homelander, he grapples with a full-blown identity crisis. If he isn't the ruler of the superhero realm, then who is he? He threatens Annie's life, ousts A-Train from the Seven, exposes Queen Maeve on national television, and then sets his sights on Stormfront. He behaves like a petulant child, lashing out at everyone and everything around him as his power wanes. Stormfront reshapes his perspective. If Homelander was once America's hero, Stormfront reminds him that heroism is an outdated notion. She embodies modern politics when she asserts, "You can't win the entire country anymore. No one can. You don't need 50 million people to adore you—you need 5 million people furiously enraged." The very concept of a hero uniting the world is extinct in 2020. She tells him, "You have fans, I have soldiers."
The final scene is pivotal for Homelander's arc. The Doppelganger transforms from Stillwell into Homelander himself, clad in a nightgown, offering to indulge in self-pleasure. The old Homelander might have engaged in rough sex with himself, but you can almost hear Stormfront's words echoing in his mind. He utters something he might never have said before: "I don't need everyone to love me. I don't need anyone." And then, he strangles and kills his "self." Now that he has extinguished his external self and his need for adoration, what will Homelander become?
