Content Warning: discussions of sexual assault, graphic descriptions of sex and gore

In a world where superheroes are power-tripping celebrities whose narcissism and recklessness destroy the lives of innocent civilians, CIA black-ops group the Boys use any method deemed necessary to keep ‘supes’ from falling out of line. Since its premiere on Amazon Prime in 2019, The Boys has become notorious for its willingness to shock and surprise. The show has been a huge hit with fans and critics. Showrunner Eric Kripke says, The Boys is ‘the intersection of celebrity and authoritarianism and how social media and entertainment are used to sell fascism.’ But the most intriguing part of the show isn’t the third season’s giant practical penis set designed to be shot from the inside, but its place as a critique of contemporary culture. 

Before the TV show, there was the original comic run. Born from writer Garth Ennis and artist Darick Robertson, The Boys set out to lampoon American comic books, particularly superhero stories. Ennis was previously a writer for Marvel Comics’ The Punisher and DC comics imprint Vertigo’s Preacher. Robertson’s major work before The Boys was a series called Transmetropolitan, and he also had experience working for both Marvel and DC. The Boys ran from 2006 to 2012, and the imagination need not stretch to see where the television series gets its gruesome and darkly funny spirit from. Superheroes from both Marvel and DC are turned into the worst representations of humanity that Ennis and Robertson can put to paper. 

Ultimately, after many years of failed adaptations, Amazon Studios picked up the series in September of 2017 with Kripke as showrunner. One massive way the show deviates from the comic is the change of antagonist. In the comic’s final issue, sole surviving member of the Boys ‘Wee’ Hughie Campbell, remarks that they ‘should’ve gone straight at the fuckin’ corporation in the first place, instead o’ wastin’ our time on the dickheads in tights’. It’s an expression of regret that manifested itself when Ennis and Robertson’s caped crusaders finally made their way to the small screen. 

At first glance, the change of tactic to eliminate the root cause of the problem makes sense. Social and political critique is in. Where superhero movies are cultural touchstones and the world’s political situation grows ever more precarious, the well of things to make fun of for Kripke and the other writers appears bottomless. For four seasons (going on a fifth), Kripke and the other writers have developed a clear storytelling philosophy: the series is as subtle as a shotgun to the face. Inferior media taps you on the shoulder and whispers in your ear, The Boys rubs your face in its crotch. Yet for all its flash, the show’s satirical value feels devoid of meaning.

One example is the show’s inconsistent approach to the handling of sexual assault. While the first season portrayed sexual assault—regardless of the victim’s gender—as a bad thing, the fourth season included a comedic portrayal of the accidental sexual assault of protagonist Hughie Campbell during a BDSM session wherein he is disguised as another, presumably consenting character. In response to online criticism, Kripke defended the scene as ‘hilarious’ and the idea of someone not knowing their own safe word as a ‘beautiful comedy setup’. Sexual assault, it seems, is only unfunny when it happens to women.

Digging deeper into the show reveals even more troubles relating to sex with most, if not all, of the villains and antagonists being portrayed as violent sexual deviants: BDSM and kink culture are relegated to the villains; their sexual practices revolve around violence, death and humiliation; they have sex out of frustration and angst, out in the street, caking each other in blood, with animals, and in many more ways that would make the toes of a dead nun curl. It’s not a progressive show, rather it’s one steeped in conservative ideas on sexuality and morality. Violence in The Boys often feels like a kid trying way too hard to impress you. Why do we need to see a whale get impaled by a boat? Why do we need to watch someone make love to fish, or have someone be sprayed with bodily fluids from a disturbingly long superhuman enhanced penis? The show’s obsession with upping the trauma inflicted onto its characters has led it to bigger moments becoming empty spectacle. Blood and gore for the sake of shocking the viewer into believing they’re consuming a more intelligent medium that condemns violence when in truth revels in it.

While characters in The Boys experience physical violence at the hands of supes, they are also the targets of systemic violence, which manifests as corporate decision-making being the root of most cruelty. The show’s attitude towards the mechanisms of capitalism lies in the fictional organisation Vought International, a stand-in for primarily Disney and Marvel, but can also substitute for DC, Warner Brothers or even the show’s own producer, Amazon. Vought is everything that our heroes stand against. Anyone that sides with Vought becomes one of the bad guys. It’s a little ironic when Amazon decided to start franchising the series themselves, spreading the show’s universe thinner and thinner until the original point becomes clouded by blood and brutal violence. As of 2025, the franchise is expanding: consisting of a sequel, a prequel, a separate show that takes place in Mexico, another spinoff revolving around a fictional school designed to train new supes, and an animated anthology series released in 2022. All at the expense of Amazon—money earned by workers exposed to hazardous workplace conditions.

Vought and Amazon are two sides of the same coin: perpetrators of systemic violence. Vought is shown to be a seasoned practitioner of ‘rainbow capitalism’, feeding off LGBTQ+ and racial minority identities to generate profit for the company but protecting violent homophobes and racists, enabling them to reach positions of power. Vought’s daily operations involve concealing the deaths and misdeeds of their superhero celebrities from the public and law enforcement, capitalising upon said celebrities to be integrated into the military to increase revenue through government contracts, undermining women and minorities in their employment, and enforcing strong workplace policies ensuring high productivity. The bottom line is profit, be it ad revenue, franchises or merchandise. Amazon’s money comes at the expense of small businesses, excessive surveillance of workers to ensure they meet deadlines, as well as violations of international labour standards. Both fail to be held accountable for their exploitative and manipulative practices.  

Capitalism has the unique ability to take criticism of itself and turn it into yet another money-making opportunity. The Boys has become a franchise that doesn’t seek to provide a meaningful message beyond the superficial ‘celebrities and greed are bad’. The inconsistencies between what it preaches and what it practices is an ever-widening gulf every season. Kripke can pride his show on being as ‘woke’ as he likes, but the fact of the matter is that The Boys is a piece of intellectual property that uses a veil of progressive politics to distract from how it operates in the wider sphere of culture. It disturbs the comforted but fails to offer meaningful critique. The Boys may be aware of the flaws that govern the industry in which it resides, yet those very same sins continue to be committed season after season.