Well, the dreary season persists, casting a somber shroud over all! Yet, "Beware the Jabberwock, My Son" manages to brighten up the dreariness of last week's episode, thanks to an entertaining Boys' mission that weaves through multiple intertwined character narratives. The show never ceases to amaze with its unexpected alliances, and the prospect of Butcher, Starlight, and Mother's Milk teaming up with Victoria Neuman and Stan Edgar is nothing short of thrilling.
This week's spotlight falls on the supe-annihilating virus conceived at Godolkin University (initially introduced in Gen V), a secret weapon that Butcher has diligently kept under wraps from his compatriots. Neuman, who possesses all the remaining doses, would make an ideal test subject herself, possessing immense power albeit not on par with Homelander's.
In a bid to secure the virus, Butcher and MM strike a deal: a presidential pardon for Neuman's adoptive father, Stan Edgar, in exchange for his assistance in locating the virus. It's delightful to witness Giancarlo Esposito's return, particularly with such a pronounced emphasis on the character's comedic facet. While Edgar's meticulous nature and overt villainy fall squarely within Esposito's realm of expertise, it's equally entertaining to see him in a smug, snobbish mode, calling out Neuman's hypocrisy with the epitome of sarcasm ("Are you upset that I betrayed you?" stands out as the episode's most memorable line) and dismissively referring to the Boys as mere "cannon fodder."
Edgar guides the group to his countryside abode, where Neuman has established a lab to experiment with the virus on Compound V-dosed animals. However, to their dismay, they find that the virus has vanished, along with Sameer Shah, a prominent Vought scientist and, surprisingly, the father of Neuman's daughter, Zoe. When Neuman and her team confront everyone at the farm, it becomes evident that they're all after the same prize, leading to a fragile truce amidst the tension.
This narrative grants the tale a much-needed respite, allowing for moments where interpersonal conflicts unfold without the immediate specter of murder escalating the drama. Edgar and Neuman engage in a heated debate, unraveling their tangled past, particularly their controversial decision to administer Compound V to a child. Neuman mocks Annie's inability to grasp her true identity sans the Starlight persona, while Frenchie and Kimiko remain steadfastly closed off about their violent histories, though it's evident that empathy would surface if they ever dared to open up. Neuman also resurfaces the pact she and Butcher struck during the season premiere, though Butcher rightfully counters that he never went through with it.
The narrative then takes a sudden turn into a gritty, B-movie thriller territory, featuring demonic, supercharged farm animals—such as a chicken capable of piercing chests and a flock of flying sheep with the strength to tear a bull apart mid-air in mere seconds. When the group discovers Sameer hiding in a barn, they uncover the truth: Compound V contaminated the groundwater after a super-powered hamster's escape, leaving just one dose of the virus remaining. In a bizarre twist, they manage to save themselves from these nightmarish creations by injecting a deceased individual with the virus and offering him as bait to the animals. However, amidst the chaos, Sameer vanishes, leaving only a leg behind as a grim reminder of his fate.
While I commend Eric Kripke's decision to conclude the series after five seasons, there have been fleeting moments that hint at a potential for a longer, ongoing show. This was particularly evident during the farm sequences in "Beware the Jabberwock, My Son." Despite the plot's rapid progression—culminating in a reveal that Butcher and Kessler secretly imprisoned Sameer to continue virus production, amputating his leg to feign his death—the isolated setting and episodic structure evoke a procedural format. Imagine shuffling characters into new, sitcom-like dynamics, sending them on weekly missions while delivering political satire tailored to the ever-shifting American political landscape. While such a version wouldn't encapsulate The Boys' tight, purposeful storytelling at its finest, episodes like this demonstrate its viable potential.
Certainly, let me enhance the narrative flow and infuse it with more vivid imagery while retaining the original meaning:
Undoubtedly, the show derived immense joy from that whimsical tale, only to have it overshadowed by the heart-wrenching conclusion of Hugh Sr.'s narrative arc. And I don't say this in a derogatory sense; it's a bleak portrayal, yet it offers a poignant and uniquely unsettling perspective on superpowers within this universe, particularly with Simon Pegg's masterful depiction of sheer panic, bewilderment, sorrow, and violent fury all converging at once. While Compound V indeed spared Hugh's life, it couldn't mend his failing mind; being a supe becomes far more perilous when one lacks control over their faculties, evident when Hugh, unwittingly, phases his hand through the chests of at least three innocent bystanders at the hospital, tearing their hearts from their bodies. It isn't a conscious choice; it's something happening against his will.
From the outset, the inevitable conclusion was apparent, reinforcing a lesson Hughie has been internalizing for weeks: he must release his father from his suffering. Historically, this has been a struggle for Hughie, as evidenced by his father's anecdote about their ailing cat, Jar-Jar. Nine-year-old Hughie resolutely refused to let his dad euthanize Jar-Jar after it contracted leukemia, leading to a drastic decline in its quality of life. Hugh Sr., knowing better, bestowed medical power of attorney upon Daphne rather than his son, fearing a similar fate. Yet, recent events indicate Hughie's growth in this realm, potentially nurtured by years of trauma and desensitization in his relentless battle against Vought. Euthanizing his father by personally administering the drug is merely a more intense, proactive demonstration of his awareness of what must be done.
When Ryan embraced Homelander as a paternal figure and deserted Butcher at the season three climax, I envisioned a subplot where Homelander subtly, almost tenderly, instills in Ryan a belief in his inherent superiority, fostering a sense of entitlement and, ultimately, malevolence. While Ryan's life at Vought Tower has been marred by his appalling, murderous biological father, it's refreshing to be reminded of its occasional allure.
Who wouldn't yearn for the ability to relegate Hollywood's sleaziest figures to their rightful place? When Ryan voices his earnest desire to assist people genuinely, rather than engage in staged rescues, Homelander's response is surprisingly devoid of the derision one might anticipate. Instead, he presents Ryan with a target: Adam Bourke, a director and notorious sexual harasser who incessantly flirts with a production assistant and, almost as egregiously, seeks to cast Ryan in a tacky teen show titled "Super School." Spurred on by Homelander, Ryan declines the offer and metes out justice to Bourke for his harassment by instructing the assistant to administer a taste of his own medicine. She requires no second prompting.
This darkly humorous moment of father-son bonding aligns perfectly with the remainder of the V52 Expo segments, brimming with nuanced jests aimed at Marvel announcements and the performative diversity initiatives of otherwise regressive corporations. We witness a timeline stretching across the planned "Phases 7 through 19"; Firecracker's cinematic debut in a Christian film under the new Vought Faith division; A-Train's notoriously lavish biopic; and the deeply cynical "Black at It" campaign, which labels the Black Seven members as "articulate heroes" and streams racially tailored versions of movies. Additionally, we see appearances from Gen V's Guardians of Godolkin, Cate Dunlap, and Sam Riordan, who are now more ensnared by Homelander's thralldom than ever.
Should there be any glimmer of genuine hope amidst this disheartening assemblage of tales, it lies in the burgeoning dissent among long-standing Vought figures like A-Train and Ashley, who solidify their alliance in this episode by sacrificing Cameron Coleman to save themselves — framing him as the leak that gets him killed. This resolution serves as a sweetly satisfying denouement after he callously dumps Ashley following her significant demotion. If the Boys are to combat whatever coup Homelander is scheming, they will need allies. With one member mourning, another incarcerated, and their leader dying during an unsanctioned mission, their quest could certainly benefit from such reinforcements.
