A FriedReads TV Review by Someone Who Didn't Care Until He Cared

The Boys Finale — I Have Thoughts (Mostly "Huh?") 🦸💥🤔

A FriedReads TV Review by Someone Who Didn't Care Until He Cared (Then Stopped Caring Again)

May 2026

THE SETUP — How I Got Here

I never cared about The Boys.

Not the world. Not the characters. Not the hype. A friend recommended it. I watched the first episode. I thought it was decent. That's the highest praise I had for years.

I didn't care about Homelander. I didn't care about Starlight. I didn't care about Hughie or Frenchie or Kimiko or any of the other names I had to Google while writing this because they were that forgettable.

Except Butcher.

Butcher's storyline was the best thing in the show. The rage. The obsession. The slowly crumbling humanity. Karl Urban grunting his way through moral decay like a man who just smelled something bad and decided to make it everyone's problem. That I cared about.

Season 3 was the peak. The glory days. The "Homelander on a plane" moment. The "I'm the real hero" speech. The Soldier Boy introduction. It was messy, dark, and genuinely surprising. I remember watching episodes and thinking, "Okay, this is actually good."

Season 4 was the decline. The slog. The "why am I still watching this" season. I nearly quit. Multiple times. My finger hovered over the "stop watching" button like a man contemplating a bad relationship. But I had committed to Butcher. I had to see it through.

Season 5? Mixed feelings. A 6 out of 10. Not terrible. Not great. Just... there. Like a lukewarm cup of coffee that you drink anyway because you already paid for it.

This isn't a professional review. I'm not a critic. I've written maybe four or five movie reviews on this site. I've lost count. This is just me, at a keyboard, trying to articulate why a show about superheroes being terrible people left me feeling... neutral. Like I'd just watched five seasons of buildup for a shrug.

THE NEGATIVES — Where It Went Wrong 😤

1. The Pacing — Too Fast, No Breathing Room, No Chill

The ending happened so fast. Not the events themselves — those were fine. The execution. The rhythm. The space between beats. The moments where you're supposed to let a scene sink in before the next thing happens.

One moment, Homelander was the villain we loved to hate. The guy who made you uncomfortable in your own living room. The guy whose eyes could laser through your soul and your TV screen.

The next, he was gone. Snapped out of existence like a Thanos victim without the dramatic dusting. No lingering. No weight. Just... snap.

It felt cheap.

Like a meal that looks beautiful on the plate but disappears in three bites. You're left wondering if you even ate anything. You check your mouth. You check your hands. Nothing. Just memory and regret.

The show spent five seasons building up this conflict. This tension. This inevitable collision between Butcher's rage and Homelander's god complex. And then the collision happened. And it was over. No final speech. No dramatic confrontation. No lingering moment where Homelander realized he wasn't a god after all.

Just snap.

I don't mind the result. I mind the speed. I wanted to sit in the moment. I wanted to feel the weight of five seasons of storytelling. Instead, I felt the weight of a writer who had a deadline and a lunch reservation.

2. Sage — The Betrayal That Came From Nowhere (Literally)

Sage was planning to betray Homelander. When that happened, I raised an eyebrow. Then the other eyebrow. Then my whole forehead. I looked like a surprised emoji come to life.

Seriously?

Where was the buildup? Where were the clues? The subtle glances? The whispered conversations? The scenes where she looked at the camera and winked? Anything?

Maybe I missed something. Maybe there was a scene I skipped while reaching for my phone. Maybe the show expected me to fill in the gaps with my imagination and a lot of good will.

But I don't work for free. If you want me to believe a betrayal, show me the betrayal forming. Don't just... declare it. Don't have a character walk up to another character and say "by the way, I was betraying you the whole time" like it's a reveal in a bad mystery novel.

That's not a twist. That's a confession. And confessions are boring.

3. Soldier Boy — The Inconsistency That Broke My Brain (And Not in a Good Way)

This is my biggest gripe. My hill. My "I will die on this" moment. The thing that made me pause the show and stare at the ceiling for a solid minute.

Soldier Boy is inconsistent. Not in a "complex character with layers" way. Not in a "morally gray" way. In a "the writers forgot what they wrote last episode and also last season" way.

At first, Soldier Boy hated Homelander. They hated each other. That was clear. That was the dynamic. Two super-powered egos colliding, neither willing to bend, both convinced they were the main character.

Then, out of nowhere, Soldier Boy respected him.

Why?

Because of Clara? Because Homelander had a son? Because Homelander thought he was a god? Because Homelander had wet dreams about angels? I don't know. I've rewatched the scenes. I've read the recaps. I've squinted at my screen like it would reveal hidden secrets.

Nothing.

Soldier Boy wanted Homelander to die. He actively prevented Homelander from getting the V1 compound (the temporary power-up juice). He locked him in the uranium chamber (whatever it's called — the Glowing Box of Consequences). He was committed to the bit.

And then, all of a sudden, he gave him the V1.

Did I miss something?

Maybe there's an answer. Maybe I wasn't paying attention during a crucial monologue. Maybe the show expected me to accept that Soldier Boy's motivations shifted because... reasons. Because the plot needed him to. Because the writers wrote themselves into a corner and needed a ladder.

But I didn't accept it. I sat there, confused, watching a character act against his own established desires, waiting for an explanation that never came.

That's not complexity. That's chaos. And chaos is only interesting when it's intentional.

4. The Deep — Infuriating, Confusing, Then Dead (By Fish)

I didn't like The Deep. Not as a character. Not as a person. Not as a concept. Not as anything except a cautionary tale about what happens when you have no self-awareness and even less self-respect.

His whole schtick was sucking up to Homelander. Desperately seeking approval from someone who would never respect him. Licking boots that were actively kicking him. And then being devastated when Homelander had no respect for him.

Like, nibba, why you crying?

You knew what he was. You knew what he thought of you. You knew that your relationship was transactional at best and abusive at worst. Why are you surprised? Why are you hurt? Why are you acting like this is new information?

And then he got killed by fish.

In a comedic sense, it's fine. The guy who spent five seasons talking to sea creatures gets killed by them. There's poetry there. Ironic poetry. The kind of poetry that makes you snort-laugh before feeling vaguely guilty about it.

But bruh. His character made no sense. His motivations were whatever the plot needed them to be in any given scene. He was less a person and more a punchline. A punchline that took five seasons to land.

Was it worth it? Eh.

THE POSITIVES — What Worked (Despite Everything) 😌

1. The Results — Realistic, Not Contrived, Surprisingly Mature

I said it before. I'll say it again. I don't mind the results.

The show could have gone for a twist. Something no one saw coming. A surprise betrayal. A last-minute redemption. A secret weapon that comes out of nowhere.

But twists are hard to pull off without feeling unearned. And unearned twists are worse than predictable endings. They're the narrative equivalent of being promised cake and being given a cardboard cutout of cake.

The Boys chose the predictable ending. Butcher kills Homelander. Homelander dies. The world keeps spinning. The sun rises. The credits roll.

And you know what? That's fine. That's realistic. That's what the story built toward.

Not every ending needs to shock you. Sometimes, the satisfaction comes from seeing the inevitable happen the way it was always going to happen. Like watching a wave crash. You knew it was coming. You knew it would happen. But when it does, there's still a sense of completion.

2. A-Train — The Most Underrated Arc (And the Only One That Made Sense)

A-Train was the character I least expected to care about. He started as a murderer. A speedster who killed Hughie's girlfriend in the first episode and barely blinked. He was the villain you loved to hate, then hated, then forgot about.

But his arc? Satisfying. Earned. Actually made sense.

The guilt. The redemption attempt. The slow, painful realization that he couldn't outrun his past. The moments of genuine self-reflection. The setbacks. The failures. The small steps forward, followed by larger steps back.

And finally, the choice to do something meaningful with his power. Not because he was asked. Not because he was forced. Because he decided to.

That's how you write a character arc.

Not with whiplash. Not with inconsistency. Not with characters acting against their own nature because the plot needs them to.

With small steps. With setbacks. With moments of genuine growth that you can trace from episode to episode, season to season.

A-Train earned his ending. I can't say that about many characters on this show. In fact, I can't say that about any other character on this show.

3. Homelander's Death — The Right Result, Wrong Rhythm

I've complained about the pacing. I've complained about the speed. I've complained about the lack of breathing room.

But the result itself? The fact that Butcher killed him? The fact that it was sudden and brutal and without ceremony?

That worked.

Homelander spent five seasons thinking he was a god. Untouchable. Unkillable. The center of the universe. He expected a grand finale. A dramatic showdown. A death that would be remembered for generations.

Instead, he got a snap.

No speech. No tears. No dramatic realization that he was wrong about everything. Just... nothing.

That's poetic. That's the universe reminding him that he was never special. That's the story refusing to give him the ending he wanted.

I just wish it had happened five seconds slower. Or ten seconds. Enough time to feel the weight of the moment before moving on.

THE BOTTOM LINE — Would I Recommend It? 🤷

Not to someone who hasn't started. Not to someone who's on the fence. Not to someone who values consistent character writing and earned resolutions and endings that don't feel like they were written on a lunch break.

But to someone who's already invested? Someone who's watched five seasons and needs to see how it ends?

Sure. Watch it. Lower your expectations. Don't expect the pacing to be good. Don't expect Soldier Boy to make sense. Don't expect Sage's betrayal to feel earned.

Watch it for Butcher. Watch it for A-Train. Watch it for the moments that work, even if they're surrounded by moments that don't.

And then come back and tell me I was right.

Or tell me I was wrong. I don't care. I'm just glad it's over.

THE FINAL SCORE — 6/10 🎲

Not terrible. Not great. Just... there.

Season 3 was the peak. Season 4 was the valley. Season 5 was the slow, uneven climb back to solid ground.

I'm glad I watched it. I'm glad it's over. I'm not sure I'll ever rewatch it.

But I'll remember Butcher. I'll remember A-Train. I'll remember the feeling of watching Homelander's snap and thinking, "That's it? That's really it?"

That's not disappointment. That's not satisfaction. That's just... acceptance.

It ended. It's done. Time to watch something else.

The Final Line:

The Boys spent five seasons building a monster and five seconds killing him. The math doesn't add up. But neither does Soldier Boy's motivation, so at least it's consistent.

🦸💥🤔

Allen FriedReads.com | Still confused. Still watching. Still not a critic. May 2026