The overriding question that hangs over Masters of the Universe (2026), Bumblebee director Travis Knight’s colourful ode to the 1980s action figure range and animated series, is for whom precisely it was developed and made. It cannot be the original audience of young boys, now all in their mid-forties to fifties, surely, since it tells a narrative too childish and silly for them to enjoy. It cannot be a new mainstream audience of teens and twentysomethings, since it seems too silly and absurd for them to take seriously, and its various jokes and humorous riffs feel much too forced and artificial to be appreciated ironically. Children, then? Maybe, if they’re prepared for a draining 140-minute running time and their parents don’t freak out about all of the fisting jokes.

What Knight’s film honestly feels like is a classic Hollywood train wreck, crafted over many years by a committee of mid-level executives and wannabe creatives, none of whom see eye-to-eye on what form or style it should take. There is a sense of successive screenplay drafts (six writers are credited), each written under conflicting instructions: some to make it more epic, others to be make it sillier, still others to apply a thick layer of sneering irony at the very property it is adapting. I am guessing that everyone involved believed they were making it for someone, and the cumulative result of their efforts is a very big, chaotic, noisy movie for no one.

A tortured prologue scene introduces Prince Adam of Eternia (Artie Wilkinson-Hunt), who is magically sent to Earth when his family and kingdom are invaded by the skull-faced Skeletor (Jared Leto). 15 years later, the adult Adam (Nicholas Galitzine) returns, and with fellow rebels Teela (Camila Mendes), Man-at-Arms (Idris Elba), and Roboto (Kristen Wiig), lead the fight to unthrone Skeletor and bring peace back to Eternia.

As George Clooney once confessed, thinking back on having to promote Batman & Robin on press junkets, if everything else is terrible then praise the sets. Masters of the Universe has eye-poppingly bright and colourful production design, dipped liberally in computer graphics and broadly faithful to the original toys and the cartoon. I’d suggest we have not seen its like since the Wachowskis’ Speed Racer (2008). On a visual level at least, there has clearly been a deliberate choice to abandon subtlety and embrace the innate absurdity of the source material.

It is generally quite hard to form an opinion about the acting quality, since most of the character lack enough depth to which any actor to really apply themselves. Camila Mendes is appropriately earnest as freedom fighter Teela. Idris Elba plays out a small list of stock failed drunk stereotypes as well as anyone. Nicholas Calitzine does a properly commendable job as Prince Adam, aka He-Man, and largely plays the role with dignity and enthusiasm.

Jared Leto plays Skeletor, commendably not via motion capture but in a rubber costume with a CGI head. His portrayal splits the difference between a more conventional villain and Austin Powers‘ Dr Evil, and while it is a take that does not sit will with other elements in the film it is almost certainly the source of the best and funniest moments. I am not a fan of Leto – either as an actor or as a person, based on media reporting of his behaviours – and it pains me to give him credit as the film’s most valuable asset. Alison Brie is an excellent comic foil to his villainy as the sorceress Evil-Lyn.

Ultimately it is the shifting, wobbly tone, and the sheer length that kill it. It wants to draw the audience in, but at the same time it is incapable of presenting the likes of Ram-Man, Fisto, and He-Man with a straight face. It wants to be laugh-out-loud funny, but it punctures its own attempts with drawn-out predictable action and completely unnecessary material. One could slice off the first 15 minutes and be left with a much stronger movie. One does not really need the climax at all, given how generic and formulaic it all is. More than anything it desperately needs to just calm down.

Live-action feature films inspired by action figures are a tough milieu in which to work. Paramount’s two G.I. Joe films failed to come together. Transformers managed it twice out of seven attempts; the second, Bumblebee (2018), was even directed by Travis Knight. Masters of the Universe will find its fans for certain; I have already argued with some of them following Amazon’s media screening. They’re not wrong – no one is wrong to like a movie – but I am not convinced that they’re right.

Masters of the Universe opens in Australian cinemas on Thursday 4 June and in the USA on Friday 5 June. Check your local cinema for details.