The Umbrella Academy is a show about superheroes who are also a family, and it spends most of its first season trying to decide which of those two things matters more. Based on Gerard Way’s comic book series, the Netflix adaptation follows seven siblings born to different mothers on the same day, each gifted with a superpower. They were raised by their adoptive father, Reginald Hargreeves, until he died, leaving them scattered across the globe. Now, after learning that the world is about to end, they reunite to stop a catastrophe that could destroy everything.
It sounds like a pitch for a dark, cerebral sci-fi epic. Instead, the show leans heavily on humor, absurdity, and a cast of characters who are often more cartoonish than tragic. The result is a show that is intermittently smart and frequently silly, with a visual style that is striking but occasionally overwhelming. It is not a failure, but it is not a masterpiece either.
Trailer, via Netflix.
Meeting the Seven Siblings
The show opens with a montage of the siblings’ births, each set against a different backdrop of global catastrophe. We meet Number One, Diego, a former FBI agent turned vigilante; Number Two, Luther, a hulking brute who can summon immense strength; Number Three, Klaus, a drug-addicted musician; Number Four, Allison, a shape-shifter; Number Five, a time-traveler whose gender is never specified; Number Six, Cyclops, a young boy with telepathy; and Number Seven, Number Seven, a child with an unspecified power. Their mother, Grace Hargreeves, is the only parent they share, and her presence looms over the entire first season.
Reginald Hargreeves, played by Colm Feore, is a stern and enigmatic figure. He raised the children to be soldiers, not friends, and his death leaves them adrift. The show spends considerable time establishing the tension between the siblings, who have spent years apart and now must work together to save the world. The dynamic is familiar territory for anyone who has watched a superhero ensemble, but the show leans into the dysfunction in a way that feels fresh.
The performances are uniformly strong. Feore delivers a measured, commanding performance as Reginald, while the younger actors carry the emotional weight of the story. David Castañeda plays Klaus with a weary, self-destructive charm, and Emmy Raver-Lampman brings a manic energy to Allison that makes her scenes some of the most memorable in the series. Tom Hopper’s Luther is a physical force, and Ashley Nimoy’s Cyclops is a quiet, watchful presence. The chemistry between the siblings is the show’s strongest asset, even when the plot sags.
The Time Travel Problem
The central conflict of The Umbrella Academy revolves around a man named Saxon, played by Colm Meaney, who is trying to kill the world’s last living person, Number Five. This sets off a chain reaction that pulls the siblings through time, forcing them to confront their pasts and their futures simultaneously. The show’s approach to time travel is convoluted, with multiple timelines colliding and diverging in ways that are often difficult to follow. It is a structural problem that plagues the entire season, and it undermines the emotional stakes of the final act.
The show tries to make the audience care about the destruction of the world, but the constant shifting of timelines makes it hard to invest in any particular moment. A character might die in one timeline and live in another, and the show rarely takes the time to explain the mechanics of its own rules. This is a show about time travel that seems to be making it up as it goes along, which is frustrating for a genre that demands precision.
The best moments come when the show slows down and focuses on character. A scene where Klaus visits his mother in a mental institution, or a conversation between Allison and Luther about their shared trauma, lands with genuine feeling. These quieter beats are what make the show worth watching, even when the action sequences feel hollow.
The Art Direction and Music
The visual style of The Umbrella Academy is a mixed bag. The show is shot with a cold, clinical palette that suits its dystopian setting, but it also has a tendency to go overboard with its color grading. Some scenes are so saturated that they become unreadable, with shadows that swallow faces and backgrounds that bleed into each other. The production design is meticulous, with period-appropriate sets and costumes that transport the viewer to different eras, but the overall effect is often dizzying rather than immersive.
The music is a highlight. The show’s soundtrack is a mix of synthwave, punk rock, and alternative pop, with original songs by the band Mondo. The score, composed by Brian Tyler, is moody and atmospheric, though it sometimes drowns out the dialogue during action sequences. The main theme, “Umbrella Academy,” is a driving instrumental that captures the show’s sense of urgency without being overly bombastic.
The show’s commitment to its own aesthetic is admirable, but it can be exhausting. There is a point where the stylization becomes a substitute for substance, and the viewer is left wondering if the creators are more interested in how the show looks than what it means.
The Absurdity Problem
The Umbrella Academy is at its best when it is absurd. The show is not afraid to embrace its pulpy origins, and there are moments where the ridiculousness of the premise is played for genuine laughs. A sequence involving a giant robot attacking New York City is genuinely funny, and the show’s willingness to commit to its own logic is refreshing in a medium where superheroes are often taken too seriously.
But the show’s commitment to absurdity is inconsistent. Some episodes lean into the camp, while others try to be gritty and realistic. The tonal shifts are jarring, and they undercut the show’s attempts to build tension. A scene that is meant to be tense can be undermined by a silly visual gag, and vice versa. The result is a show that is often entertaining but rarely coherent.
The show’s absurdist streak is a double-edged sword. It makes the show memorable, but it also makes it hard to take seriously. The Umbrella Academy is a show about people who can control the weather, teleport, and summon ghosts, and it refuses to treat them as anything other than human. That is a bold choice, but it requires a level of consistency that the show does not always deliver.
The Weak Third Act
The final stretch of The Umbrella Academy is a mess. The show introduces a new threat, a villain named Hazel, played by Alan Van Sprang, who is revealed to be a clone of Reginald. This twist is meant to resolve the mystery of Reginald’s death, but it is rushed and underdeveloped. The show spends so much time on the siblings’ individual stories that it forgets to build a compelling antagonist. Hazel is a competent actor, but his motivations are opaque, and his schemes feel more like plot devices than genuine threats.
The show’s climax is a long, drawn-out sequence that spans multiple timelines and involves a lot of shouting. It is visually impressive, with elaborate set pieces and a sense of scale, but it lacks the emotional payoff that the earlier episodes earned. The resolution is abrupt, and it leaves several threads unresolved. The show ends with a cliffhanger, promising a second season, but it feels less like a cliffhanger and more like a capitulation to the show’s inability to tie its own knots.
The third act is where the show’s flaws are most apparent. The convoluted plotting, the weak antagonist, and the rushed resolution all come together to create a finale that is anticlimactic. It is a shame, because the show had built to this moment with genuine emotional weight, and the payoff feels hollow.
Key Facts Box
- Title: The Umbrella Academy
- Platform: Netflix
- Creator: Steve Blackman
- Based on: Gerard Way’s comic book series
- Season count: 1 (first season reviewed here)
- Score: 6.1/10
Final Score
The Umbrella Academy is a flawed but entertaining show. It has a strong cast, a distinctive visual style, and a willingness to embrace its absurdity. But it is also a show that struggles with coherence, with pacing, and with its own tone. The show is at its best when it is focused on character, and at its worst when it is bogged down by its own convoluted plotting.
The show’s strengths are undeniable. The performances are uniformly strong, the visual style is striking, and the music is excellent. The show’s weaknesses are also undeniable. The plotting is convoluted, the tone is inconsistent, and the finale is a letdown. It is a show that is worth watching, but it is not a show that rewards repeated viewings.
The Umbrella Academy is a show that knows what it wants to be, but it does not always know how to get there. It is a show that has built to a moment of genuine emotional weight, but it fails to deliver on that promise. It is a show that is better than its reputation, but it is not a show that will change your mind about the genre. It is a show that is fun, but it is not a show that is essential.
The Umbrella Academy is a show that is worth watching, but it is not a show that rewards repeated viewings. It is a show that is fun, but it is not a show that is essential. It is a show that is flawed, but it is a show that has moments of genuine brilliance. It is a show that is inconsistent, but it is a show that has a strong cast, a distinctive visual style, and a willingness to embrace its absurdity.
