The Masters of the Universe toys and cartoons are so stupid, I don’t even think that people are nostalgic for them. Sure, you can find collectors of anything, but in this case, I think even the Bronies—those grown men who proudly pledge allegiance to My Little Pony—would snicker at an adult He-Man enthusiast. In a nutshell, He-Man’s world is pretty much all of the sword-and-sandal heroes, from Hercules to Conan, plus lasers, minus imagination. It rips off everything and offers no unique flavor that survives the generations. 8-year-olds love it, 9-year-olds grow out of it. Forever.
Also, hey, there’s a live-action movie version. It’s so full of 80s kitsch, it all but plays like a parody today, which is the only reason why it plays anymore at all. True to its origins, the movie imitates everything it can. Director Gary Goddard swears that it’s all a Jack Kirby homage, more a tribute to The King’s unfettered fantastic visions on 1970s newsprint than it is to plastic action figures. However, it’s also a perfect fit for the 80s, when many sci-fi films were still reeling from Star Wars, groping at the pathos of E.T. and Back to the Future and looking for a new muscleman action star to challenge Schwarzenegger and Stallone (poor Dolph Lundgren, perfectly coiffed and rippling all over, only to not have a single drop of screen charisma).
It’s all a rip-off of a copy of an imitation. The only innovation it brings is that it transports its loin-cloth adventurers to then-modern day planet Earth, USA (via a meaningless “Cosmic Key” MacGuffin that everyone’s chasing after)—and even that idea played better in the previous year’s Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.
More than anything, this film is an advertisement. And it even failed on that count (it was a box office disappointment). It’s harmless in every way. If you love it, you love it lightly. If you hate it, you should hate it lightly. Meanwhile, the 1980s museum welcomes it, past its neon-lit doors.