A young HR rep longs to go back home—to his home planet of Eternia, that is. He just needs to find his magic sword. Masters of the Universe is two and a half hours of silly fun, but its content concerns are nothing to gloss over. Magic, sexual asides and a whole bunch of violence make this a hard sell for families.
On earth, we learn that there are two sides to every story.
On Eternia, we learn that those sides are the good side and the Skeletor side.
Skeletor is not a, er, man for subtlety. When you have a skull for a face, your career choices are limited. You’ve really got to choose between megalomaniac villain or telemarketer, and Skeletor chose the former. He actually has his red, beady eyes set on ruling the universe, but Skeletor sees Eternia as an important little stepping stone. Why, this once-blissful land holds the Sword of Power. With that sword comes godlike power. And with that power comes—well, the keys to the universe. If the universe made keys. Which it doesn’t, but you get my drift.
Thing is, though, the Sorceress of Castle Greyskull opened up a portal and shoved the sword (and Eternia’s 10-year-old prince, Adam) through the thing. Where did they go? Skeletor doesn’t know. His right-hand helper, Evil-Lyn, doesn’t know. No one but the Sorceress knows, and she’s awfully hard to question. So Skeletor’s been cooling his heels in Eternia for 15 years, waiting for word of the sword, with only the occasional massacre to break the boredom.
Funnily enough, Adam’s been looking for that sword, too.
He didn’t mean to let it go. But magic portals? They’ve got some serious crosswinds. And when you’re an undersized 10-year-old trying to hold onto a gigantic sword of unlimited power … well, sometimes things happen.
The last 15 years haven’t been easy for Adam. Somehow, though, he made it through school and now works in human resources. He spends his free time (and his work time, too) scouring the internet for his missing blade and telling his occasional dates about his long-lost life as prince of a far-off planet.
Odd how those dates never last long.
But then one day, just as Adam’s boss is giving him a lecture related to his discomforting obsession with swords (Adam’s making his co-workers nervous, it seems), Adam receives a mysterious text: Someone has found his sword.
“It’s yours for $300,” it says.
Eternia awaits!
During Adam’s Eternia-based childhood, the young prince was taught that he needed to be strong. The universe, after all, was a dangerous place. It was going to be his responsibility to protect not just his family, but his entire realm. “This world is no place for the weak,” Adam’s stern father told him. And while the king probably could’ve been a little nicer about it, he wasn’t wrong about the importance of strength. Adam’s prime tutor, Duncan (aka Man-At-Arms), is charged with cultivating that strength in all his young pupils. And when Adam falls during a difficult lesson, Duncan tells him that, “When you fall, it gives you the chance to [get back up and] stand tall.”
On Earth, though, Adam learns to deal with conflict without punching people in the mouth. As a human resources rep, he’s been taught to de-escalate disagreements, find win-win solutions and (most importantly in the context of Eternia) work in the confines of a team. While Masters of the Universe pokes a bit of fun at Adam’s preferred, kinder, gentler way of doing things, it also suggests that Adam is an ideal leader for Eternia because of those traits. His kindness and empathy don’t soften his ability to lead and defend; they strengthen it.
And certainly, we can’t fault the ultimate goal that Adam and his pals are after: Booting Skeletor and his evil ilk off the planet. This story definitely pits goodly good against dastardly evil, and there’s never a question as to who we should be rooting for.
Masters of the Universe doesn’t pretend to be a particularly deep or thought-provoking movie. But even so, this film features a lot of spiritual trappings—some of which conflict with each other and none of which point to Christianity.
First, the magic. Eternia is a realm filled with it, and we see plenty of folks who use it. Greyskull’s own in-residence Sorceress can cast shields, open portals and turn into a hawk. Evil-Lyn’s preferred magic involves freezing people in battle—sometimes uttering what sound to be magical incantations as she does so. (An annoyed Skeletor makes her stop chanting at one point, though, telling her that her victim is immobile already, and she doesn’t need to overdo it.)
The resting place for the Sword of Power is called an altar, and we’re told that it makes its bearer “as mighty as a god.” We see the sword can draw lightning-like power from the clouds, and it sure seems to do some supernatural work on Adam (who experiences a magical costume change and sprouts bigger muscles whenever he holds the sword and shouts, “By the Power of Greyskull”). When the sword doesn’t seem to work as it should, someone suggests taking it back to Castle Greyskull to perform a magical rite—apparently to jump-start its inherent abilities.
Skeletor really wants that sword, and he reveals a bit about his nature when he talks about it. “I am no mere king,” he tells Evil Lyn. “I am a devil. But I want to be a god.” (Nothing like clear character motivations.) Later, someone calls him a “demon,” which Skeletor doesn’t deny. And one of his henchmen looks like a demonic caricature.
For all the talk of gods and demons and magic here, one character goes for a more humanistic, fatalistic philosophy. “Existence is a series of absurdities leading to infinite nothingness,” the character says.
[Spoiler Warning] For most of the movie, the sword is the near all-important MacGuffin—the source of unimaginable power. When Adam holds it, he tells his cohort, Teela, that he has “the power of a god in my hands.” Teela counters, “But you are not a god. You are a man.” Funny thing, though. As the movie nears its end, the sword proves to be nothing special: As happens in Thor: Ragnarok to another pseudo-god, Adam learns that the power was in him all along. And that’s why the film holds off for most of its runtime on saying the franchise’s most familiar lines: “By the power of Greyskull, I have the power!” So if the sword doesn’t hold the power of a god, but Adam does, wouldn’t that by definition make the prince … a god?
Masters of the Universe contains a surprising number of sexual winks and asides. Some of it is fostered by the unfortunate, but real names of Adam’s cohorts. (Several jokes are made at the expense of a character called “Fisto,” for instance.) Others involve double entendres involving the Sword of Power.
As mentioned, whenever Adam shouts “By the power of Greyskull,” he loses most of his earthly clothes and is magically enveloped by just a loincloth and some sort of chest girder—which naturally leaves most of his body exposed. (Teela expresses a little bit of awkwardness when she’s forced to bend down near his loincloth.) Women also wear form-fitting clothing with plunging necklines, but nothing too revealing.
Evil-Lyn seems to want a romantic relationship with Skeletor, though the skull-headed dictator is not interested. Adam and Teela draw close to each other in one scene, but Teela quickly terminates any romance by telling Adam how valued a friend he is. (We see Adam out on a date on earth as well.)
After Adam’s first successful encounter with one of Skeletor’s henchmen, Duncan suggests they now have reason to celebrate. “Ripping some dude’s arm off doesn’t seem to be something we should be celebrating,” Adam says.
The arm was mechanical, but no matter: We’re treated to scads of violent moments throughout the film—as one might expect from a franchise built on muscles and weaponry.
Death comes fast and frequently here, as tons of extras (both good guys and bad guys) are gunned down, blown up or otherwise destroyed in various showdowns. One unfortunate henchman gets swung around like a living morning star, mowing down his fellow evildoers. Another one gets skewered on the back of a guy covered in spikes, and he spends several seconds screaming as the spike-guy (aptly named Spikor) fights—exposing his unintended passenger to various martial injustices.
A character rips apart someone’s metallic jaw, stuffs an explosive down his gullet and jumps before the guy (and the craft he’s riding in) blows up. Someone is magically vaporized. Other characters fall from lethal heights to, presumably, their dooms. Plenty of folks are crushed under falling and/or flying stones. Others get caught up in a crumbling bridge. An attack on the capital of Eternia leaves the city in ruins. A gigantic feline clutches someone’s head in its jaws.
Adam is surprisingly durable—especially when he’s in his more heroic, less clothed “He-Man” guise. He’ll fall from speeding aircraft and crash to the ground or bounce off trees. He’ll get thrown into walls or stabbed in the gut. The earthly, less durable Adam leaps from a bridge to tumble painfully onto a city street. When he gets up, he immediately gets hit by a car. He loses a wrestling match with a life-size, plastic statue. (“Please stop ravishing the Pillager,” an onlooker scolds, referencing one of the statue’s nicknames.) As a child, Adam gets knocked down, and we hear that someone used to lock him in his school locker.
And everywhere you look, people are shooting, sword-fighting, grappling, kicking, punching and meleeing.
We see children on Eternia sparring under the watchful eye of Duncan. “I want to see big, shiny bruises,” he tells his young charges. “I want to see bloody noses!” One character gets knocked down by his father. We hear that Skeletor has killed “thousands” en route to proving he’s a just ruler.
We hear at least two s-words and a litany of other profanities, including “d–n,” “h—,” “a–,” “p-ssed” and “p—y.” (Since that last one is directed at a cowardly cat, you could count it as a double entendre.) We hear quite a bit of name-calling, including “boob,” “buttworm” and “squink.”
We learn that after Skeletor invaded Eternia, Duncan sunk into an almost constant state of drunkenness. Adam, Teela and another compatriot must physically carry Duncan at one point to rescue him from danger. When Duncan grows more coherent, Teela still won’t let him drive a flying Eternia-craft. At one point, she also calls Duncan “Drunkan.”
Duncan begins to return to his old self, but he still carries a flask of alcohol on his person. Both Teela and Adam express their displeasure with this, but they don’t do anything physically to stop Duncan from drinking. Eventually, though, he seems to quit for himself.
When Adam walks into a prison cell where Duncan is being kept, he says that it smells “like a urinal.” When an unconscious Duncan comes to, he vomits messily, and he announces that he’d rather sleep beside that vomit than be rescued. (Another character later vomits as well.)
Give this Masters of the Universe film credit for one thing: It doesn’t take itself too seriously.
How can it, when its main protagonist goes by “He-Man” and the villain literally has a skull for a face? No, the Masters of the Universe franchise has never been particularly subtle or deep, and this movie embraces that DNA with campy, cheesy relish.
For fans of the franchise’s other iterations, this 2026 film is filled with satisfying Easter eggs. Dolph Lundgren—star of the 1987 Masters of the Universe movie—steps in for a nice little cameo. When Adam wrests the “Sword of Power” from a mannequin called “Torak,” we can see boxes of “Big Jim” action figures stacked nearby. (The prototype He-Man figurine was a modified Big Jim toy, and the first sketches of the character who eventually became He-Man were named Torak.)
And in another fun little twist, a favorite character from the 1980s cartoon series stops by to deliver an end-of-movie moral: Sometimes, being kind is just as important as being strong.
Not that this movie’s actions reinforce that moral much.
While Masters of the Universe certainly pays lip service to giving peace a chance, it seems to accomplish that by leaving your enemies in pieces. The film is predicated on heroic battle and unceasing mayhem—which, let’s be honest, fits with how most 8-year-olds would’ve played with the Masters of the Universe toys themselves. (They don’t call them “action figures” for nothing.)
But while frenzied violence should well be expected here, much of the other content comes as an unwelcome surprise. The sensual asides were especially disappointing. The language was, naturally, unnecessary. And while magic and supernatural elements have always been a part of the franchise, too—and always warrant some serious discernment—this film seems to take them all a step further than even the franchise would demand.
The film was more fun than I expected, filled with inside gags and self-deprecating asides. But the problems grew in tandem with those positives. And that may keep many a discerning family away.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
