This show is a wild ride. A bunch of vigilantes takes on superheroes who think they are above it all. Expect dark humor and graphic violence. It pokes fun at superhero tropes. Critics rave about its writing and performances. Two seasons are ready for binge-watching on Amazon Prime Video. So, grab some snacks and enjoy!

Meet the characters from The Boys

Billy Butcher

Billy is the loud, foul-mouthed heart of the team — always scheming, always three steps ahead (or at least he thinks he is). He’s got this gruff, violent swagger but also this ridiculous loyalty that makes you both trust and fear him at the same time. He swears at everyone like it’s a ritual and then, somehow, nurses a stray cat back to health in the same breath. He hates superheroes with a passion that looks like obsession, and he drinks tea sometimes? No, definitely whisky — unless it’s tea.

Hughie Campbell

Hughie is the confused, soft-centered human who gets dragged into chaos and becomes braver than he believes — slow-burn hero energy. He’s awkward and cute and eternally apologetic, with this sudden, fierce protective streak that surprises everyone (including himself). He can fumble a joke and then drop a line that guts you emotionally; also, he’s suspiciously good at picking out bad puns. Sometimes he seems timid, sometimes he snaps like a wire — adorable and a little tragic.

Homelander

Homelander is the perfect public face: polished, patriotic, and absolutely terrifying if you look too closely. He smiles like sunshine but the smile carries weight — like a smile backed by missiles and PR training, and you never know which one’s coming. He craves worship and attention, and he can pivot from charming to cold in an instant; also he collects models? (I think he does?) There’s a godlike charisma and a monstrous core and you can’t help watching in horrified fascination.

Annie January

Annie (Starlight) is pure, bright, and stubbornly idealistic — she glows and then wakes up to the world and becomes this fierce, complicated light. She’s moral to a fault but learns to be morally flexible when needed, which is both heartbreaking and empowering. She has this adorable habit of getting embarrassed and then making an awkward joke, and she also punches people, very decisively. She’s the hopeful center who’s learned cynicism without losing her sparkle (mostly), and you root for her like crazy.

Queen Maeve

Maeve is the tired hero who could have been everything but is mostly done with the act — world-weary, blunt, and devastatingly real. She’s sarcastic and powerful, with a past that makes her softer in secret and harder in public; she’s protective but jaded, like someone who keeps saving people and expecting nothing back. She drinks and grumbles and, I swear, has a tiny secret love for cozy sweaters? No one would guess but maybe. She’s the reluctant queen whose strength is quieter than headline-grabbing but somehow heavier.

A-Train

A-Train is speed and nerves — he’s fast physically and emotionally always on edge, part athlete, part addict, part mess. He chases wins and validation and makes reckless choices when the pressure hits, and you can see insecurity behind the flashy sunglasses. He’s competitive and sometimes mean (oops) but also weirdly loyal to his crew, like a high-energy fault line waiting to snap. He’s all motion and impulse, and he probably eats two breakfasts and a protein shake but also regrets everything.

The Deep

The Deep is the awkward, cringey figure who wants to be revered by sea creatures and people alike but mostly gets embarrassment instead. He has genuinely strange obsessions with aquatic life and bizarre rituals that make everyone uncomfortable, yet there’s a sad, almost desperate attempt at sincerity under the fish-themed superhero schtick. He tries to be profound but flubs it, and then fumbles his way into a moment of actual decency — sometimes. He’s equal parts comedy and pathos and also, I think he owns a tiny collection of novelty fish hats.

Frenchie

Frenchie is chaos wrapped in charm — a lovable, eccentric wild-card who makes weapons, snacks, and friendships with equal devotion. He talks to animals, mends broken things (and people), and has this uncanny empathy that’s both tender and a bit terrifying in the best way. He’s a genius improviser who will MacGyver a plan while humming a French pop song and offering you a pastry. He’s messy, soft, and fierce all at once — unapologetically himself.

Mother’s Milk

Mother’s Milk is the calm center, the planner, the organizational backbone who keeps the gang from imploding — annoyingly reliable in the best sense. He’s principled, meticulous, and a little wonky about schedules and rules (but endearingly so), always checking everyone’s health like a dad who also packs explosives. He has this stern exterior that hides a deep compassion and a strangely specific knowledge of condiments? I’m telling you, the man is into pickles. He keeps things together with a moral clarity that you didn’t know you needed until he’s not there.

Kimiko Miyashiro

Kimiko is a tornado of silence and fury — she speaks with action in the most gorgeous, terrifying way possible. She’s feral and gentle in the same breath: will rip a room apart and then quietly pet a stray animal like it’s normal (and somehow it is). Trauma-shaped and fiercely loyal, she’s learning trust and it’s heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. She rarely says much but everything she does screams volumes, and that’s the point — emotionally devastating and absolutely magnetic.

Black Noir

Black Noir is the unblinking, utterly mute enigma who moves like a shadow and strikes like a whisper — low-key iconic. He’s so silent it’s eerie, and his presence alone changes a room (and the rules of engagement). He’s coldly efficient but there’s this odd, cultish fan mystique around him, and you half-wonder if he’s into obscure hobbies like interpretive dance? Probably not, but who knows. He’s the dark, funny blank space everyone projects onto and that’s simultaneously scary and weirdly compelling.