Lanterns (2026) Season 1 Review – 💚
Wait, where’s the green? Better yet where’s the lanterns?
Apparently, the greatest challenge facing the Green Lantern Corps isn’t overcoming fear. It’s getting the writers to let them do anything remotely resembling Green Lantern.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have finally finished all eight episodes of HBO’s Lanterns, the latest television series set within James Gunn’s DC Universe, and I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever had such conflicting feelings about a superhero adaptation. On one hand, we have a beautifully shot, well-acted crime drama with an intriguing mystery, complicated characters, and some genuinely effective emotional moments. On the other hand, we have a Green Lantern series that seems determined to avoid practically everything that makes Green Lantern one of the most imaginative properties in DC Comics.
And after reflecting on the season, I’ve actually lowered one of my ratings.
Originally, I was prepared to give Lanterns a 9/10 when judging it purely as an HBO prestige crime drama. However, the more I thought about the storytelling, particularly the continuity questions, questionable character reactions, and the circumstances surrounding the central murder, the more I realized that even without the Green Lantern name attached, the series isn’t quite as tightly written as I initially believed.
That doesn’t mean it’s a bad crime drama. Far from it. The performances are phenomenal, the atmosphere is excellent, and the central investigation is compelling enough to keep the audience interested. But a murder mystery depends heavily on consistency, and when later revelations make earlier scenes difficult to explain, I think that’s a legitimate criticism.
However, that’s only half the problem.
Because this is supposed to be a GREEN LANTERN SHOW!
And I’m sorry, but I spent eight episodes wondering whether the creative team actually wanted to adapt Green Lantern or simply wanted to make their own version of True Detective with a few recognizable DC Comics names attached.
I have nothing against creative reinterpretations. I don’t need every superhero adaptation to recreate the comics exactly, and I certainly don’t believe that a superhero series requires explosions every five minutes. But there’s a difference between taking an established property in a new direction and stripping away so much of its identity that it barely resembles the material it’s adapting.
Unfortunately, Lanterns falls into the latter category for me.
Let’s Start by Showing Y’all the Trailers, Shall We?
When Lanterns was originally announced, I was genuinely interested in the premise. A detective story involving Hal Jordan and John Stewart could have been a fantastic way to introduce the Green Lantern Corps into the new DC Universe. After all, Green Lanterns are essentially intergalactic law enforcement officers. Having two of them investigate a mysterious crime on Earth makes perfect sense, especially if that investigation gradually expands into something much larger involving the Guardians of the Universe, alien civilizations, and the extraordinary cosmic mythology surrounding these characters.
Unfortunately, the promotional material immediately suggested that this would be a much more restrained interpretation. Rather than showcasing alien worlds, colorful costumes, imaginative power-ring constructs, or the enormous variety of extraterrestrial Lanterns, the trailers focused primarily on the relationship between Hal and John, the bleak atmosphere of rural Nebraska, and the mystery surrounding the town of Rushville.
Now, that wasn’t necessarily a deal-breaker. A trailer doesn’t have to reveal everything, and I was willing to give the series an opportunity to establish its own identity. However, looking back after finishing the season, the marketing was remarkably honest about what kind of show we were getting.
This wasn’t going to be a grand cosmic superhero adventure. It was going to be a grounded HBO crime drama that happened to feature characters from Green Lantern comics.
And then there were the comments from co-creator Damon Lindelof, who joked that the creative team had removed the word Green from the title because they thought it was stupid. Lindelof subsequently apologized and explained that he was joking, which is an important distinction. I’m not going to pretend I can read the man’s mind or know how much affection he has for the source material. Nevertheless, after finishing the series, I couldn’t help thinking that his unfortunate joke was a remarkably accurate description of the finished product.
Because good lord, this show sometimes feels allergic to the color green.
Non-Spoiler Plot Overview
Lanterns follows two Green Lanterns, Hal Jordan, portrayed by Kyle Chandler, and John Stewart, portrayed by Aaron Pierre, as they become involved in a mysterious case centered on Rushville, Nebraska. The story unfolds across two timelines, one set in 2016 and the other in 2026, gradually revealing how an investigation involving extraterrestrial activity changed the lives of both men and the people living in the town.
In the earlier timeline, Hal is an experienced Green Lantern assigned to train John, a prospective successor whose relationship with the Green Lantern Corps is considerably more complicated than it initially appears. Hal is stubborn, abrasive, and deeply uncomfortable with the possibility of being replaced, while John is disciplined, intelligent, and determined to prove that he deserves the opportunity to wield a power ring. Their partnership is contentious from the beginning, and their investigation gradually exposes a conspiracy involving alien technology, dangerous secrets, and a mysterious threat connected to the Guardians of the Universe.
The present-day storyline follows the consequences of what happened a decade earlier. Old wounds have not healed, relationships have deteriorated, and Rushville remains a town haunted by its past. As John becomes involved in another investigation, he must confront the people who shaped his life, the responsibilities he once rejected, and the uncomfortable possibility that the institutions he was raised to serve are not nearly as trustworthy as he believed.
On paper, this is a strong premise. A supernatural murder mystery involving two generations of Green Lanterns, a community with a traumatic history, and an extraterrestrial conspiracy sounds like the foundation for a genuinely compelling television series.
And as a crime drama, I would argue that it largely succeeds.
The trouble is that the further the story progresses, the more apparent it becomes that the traditional Green Lantern elements are secondary to almost everything else.
Character Rundown
Hal Jordan – Kyle Chandler
Let’s start with the character who probably frustrated me the most: Hal Jordan.
First, I want to make something perfectly clear. Kyle Chandler is phenomenal. His performance is one of the strongest elements of the entire show. He brings a convincing sense of experience, exhaustion, bitterness, and emotional damage to the character, and even when I strongly disliked Hal’s behavior, I never felt that Chandler was giving a poor performance.
My problem is with the writing.
I understand that Hal Jordan has never been a flawless superhero. He’s cocky, impulsive, occasionally reckless, and has a long history of clashing with authority. Those imperfections are part of his appeal. But the Hal Jordan presented in Lanterns feels like those traits have been exaggerated until they’ve practically swallowed the character’s more admirable qualities.
This version of Hal can be cruel, vindictive, dismissive, and downright irresponsible. His relationship with John is especially difficult to watch because the series repeatedly portrays him as a mentor who seems more interested in humiliating his successor than preparing him for the responsibilities of being a Green Lantern. There were moments when I genuinely wondered why anyone would consider this man qualified to train another superhero.
And that’s a shame, because Chandler is clearly capable of portraying a charismatic and heroic Hal Jordan. On the occasions when the series allows Hal to demonstrate genuine compassion, you can glimpse a version of the character I would have loved to spend more time with.
Instead, the show seems determined to make him as miserable and unpleasant as possible.
And remember, this is Hal Jordan’s first appearance in the new DC Universe. Of all the possible ways to introduce one of DC’s most recognizable superheroes, the writers apparently decided the best approach was to turn him into an insufferable jerk, make him responsible for a catastrophe, and then kill him off.
What a wonderful introduction.
John Stewart – Aaron Pierre
Aaron Pierre is another casting choice I have absolutely no complaints about. He has a commanding screen presence, carries himself with conviction, and does an excellent job portraying a man whose entire life has been shaped by expectations he never fully chose for himself.
I particularly appreciated the exploration of John’s childhood and his relationship with his parents. The series establishes that becoming a Green Lantern was never simply a childhood dream. It was something his family spent years preparing him for, often through methods that were controlling and psychologically damaging.
That provides John with a compelling internal conflict. Does he actually want to become a Green Lantern, or has he spent his entire life trying to fulfill somebody else’s ambitions?
Unfortunately, while I appreciated the underlying character study, I didn’t always enjoy the way his journey was handled. The show spends so much time exploring John’s emotional relationship with the ring that it sometimes forgets to let him actually use the damn thing.
By the end of the season, I understood the character’s psychological development. I just wish his transformation into a Green Lantern had felt equally satisfying from a superhero perspective.
Guy Gardner – Nathan Fillion
Oh boy. Guy Gardner.
I’ve never expected Guy Gardner to be the most mature person in the room. In fact, that’s practically the opposite of what makes him entertaining. He’s arrogant, confrontational, loud, impulsive, and often acts like the biggest jerk in the Green Lantern Corps. But beneath that obnoxious personality is a genuinely capable superhero.
Nathan Fillion certainly has the personality and comedic timing to make Guy work. However, I have serious issues with how this version of the character behaves.
Throughout Lanterns, Guy often feels unusually restrained, obedient, and concerned about institutional appearances. He seems more like a representative worried about the Green Lantern Corps’ public image than the infamously confrontational Guy Gardner I recognize.
What makes this even stranger is that Hal Jordan seems to have inherited many of Guy’s traditional personality traits. Hal is the abrasive, insufferable hothead, while Guy is comparatively cooperative.
I understand that characters can evolve between appearances, but the characterization here feels inconsistent with what I expected from Guy, especially within a shared DC Universe where he has already appeared in other projects.
Sheriff Kerry Kane – Kelly Macdonald
Kelly Macdonald gives a phenomenal performance as Sheriff Kerry Kane, a woman deeply connected to Rushville’s troubled history and the complicated relationships surrounding Hal Jordan.
Kerry initially comes across as a grounded, sympathetic presence. She’s someone trying to manage a community that has suffered tremendously, and her interactions with Hal provide some of the series’ more intimate dramatic moments.
Throughout much of the season, Kerry also seems remarkably levelheaded. She’s intelligent, observant, and generally capable of remaining composed under pressure. There are moments when she seems to be one step ahead of practically everybody else.
Which makes her eventual role in the murder mystery all the more frustrating.
Without revealing anything in this section, I will say that the circumstances surrounding her actions became one of my biggest problems with the entire series. There’s a difference between writing a character who makes a tragic emotional mistake and suddenly having an established character behave in a way that feels completely inconsistent with everything we’ve learned about them.
And unfortunately, I think Lanterns crosses that line.
Thaal Sinestro – Ulrich Thomsen
Sinestro is one of the most important figures in Green Lantern mythology, which makes his treatment here particularly disappointing.
Ulrich Thomsen is a capable actor, and the series gives Sinestro an interesting relationship with Hal, built around their shared history and complicated attitudes toward the Guardians. There’s potential for a genuinely fascinating interpretation of the character.
Unfortunately, Sinestro spends much of his screen time delivering information, discussing the larger mystery, or serving as a mechanism for moving the plot forward.
His appearance is also remarkably subdued. The muted presentation might fit the show’s visual style, but when you’re adapting a character as visually distinctive as Sinestro, I don’t think stripping away so much of his comic-book identity is automatically an improvement.
And while the series introduces concepts connected to fear, it never fully explores the spectacular possibilities associated with Sinestro’s mythology.
Zoe Macon – Poorna Jagannathan
Zoe is one of the more intriguing supporting characters because she initially appears to be another member of Rushville’s complicated social circle. As the story progresses, however, her connection to the extraterrestrial mystery becomes increasingly significant.
Poorna Jagannathan gives Zoe an unsettling presence, balancing warmth and manipulation in ways that make it difficult to determine her true intentions.
My problem with Zoe is less about the performance and more about what her storyline eventually reveals about the series’ interpretation of a major piece of Green Lantern mythology.
We’ll get into that extensively in the spoiler section.
The Halogram – Kyle Chandler
Now, here’s something I genuinely enjoyed: the Halogram.
Without revealing too much about its role in the story, the Halogram is a younger digital representation of Hal Jordan preserved through his power ring. And strangely enough, I found this version of Hal considerably more entertaining and likable than the actual man.
He’s funnier, more playful, more personable, and noticeably kinder toward John. He has a mischievous sense of humor that gives Chandler an opportunity to demonstrate a different side of the character.
In fact, there were moments when I found myself wondering why the living Hal Jordan couldn’t have been written with more of these qualities.
It’s genuinely hilarious that the digital reconstruction of a younger Hal Jordan seems to possess more warmth and personality than the actual Hal Jordan.
Apparently, the nicest version of Hal Jordan is the one that isn’t technically alive anymore.
And once again, that’s not a criticism of Chandler. If anything, it’s further proof of how versatile his performance is.
The Supporting Cast and Rushville Residents
Rushville is almost a character in its own right. The town has a distinctive atmosphere, a history of tragedy, and a population that remains deeply suspicious of outsiders and the Green Lanterns.
The supporting cast helps sell that atmosphere. William Macon, Billy Macon, Maggie, Noah, and the various residents all contribute to the feeling of a community that has never recovered from a terrible event.
However, I gradually developed a serious dislike for the town itself.
I understand why the residents are angry. I understand why they’re traumatized. What I don’t understand is why the show repeatedly presents intimidation, threats, extortion, and violence without giving those actions the same level of moral scrutiny it applies to Hal and John.
Trauma can explain somebody’s behavior. It doesn’t automatically excuse it.
Pacing / Episode Flow
This is where my feelings about Lanterns become especially complicated.
I can appreciate a slow-burn mystery. I don’t need a television show to constantly bombard me with action sequences, and I generally enjoy stories that allow their characters to develop through meaningful conversations. The two-timeline structure also gives the series an interesting narrative foundation, gradually revealing information that changes how we interpret earlier scenes.
However, I found the opening episodes surprisingly boring.
The show takes its time establishing the investigation, the personalities, and the history of Rushville. Some of that material is effective, but other scenes feel unnecessarily drawn out. There are only so many conversations about the same mysteries and grievances that I can watch before I start wondering when the story is actually going to move forward.
The 2016 storyline generally has more momentum because Hal and John are actively investigating a threat and occasionally getting involved in dangerous confrontations. The 2026 storyline is more introspective, focusing heavily on grief, guilt, and the consequences of past decisions.
I understand the contrast the writers were attempting to establish, but the two approaches don’t always complement each other.
And then we arrive at the eighth and final episode.
Good lord.
The finale is one of my least favorite episodes of the entire season.
Not because it contains absolutely nothing meaningful, but because its structure becomes almost comically repetitive. John talks to Noah. John talks to Kerry. John talks to Guy Gardner. John talks to the Halogram. And somewhere along the way, Sinestro gets involved in yet another lengthy conversation.
It’s practically an entire hour of people standing or sitting around explaining their feelings, revealing information, and deciding how the story should end.
At a certain point, I wanted to ask the television:
“ACTION? HELLO? HAVE ANY OF YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF ACTION?!”
And before somebody tells me that superhero stories don’t need constant fighting, I agree! But this is a Green Lantern series that has already spent seven episodes being remarkably restrained with its action, costumes, constructs, and cosmic spectacle.
You would think the grand finale might finally deliver something that fully embraces the premise.
Instead, almost everything is resolved through conversation.
Now, dialogue-driven resolutions can absolutely work. The problem is that the finale doesn’t provide enough dramatic escalation to make those conversations feel like a satisfying culmination of everything the season has been building toward.
By the time the credits rolled, I felt less like I had watched the conclusion of a Green Lantern adventure and more like I had attended a series of increasingly elaborate therapy sessions.
Pros
The Entire Cast Is Phenomenal
I cannot emphasize this enough: the performances are not the problem.
Kyle Chandler, Aaron Pierre, Kelly Macdonald, Ulrich Thomsen, Poorna Jagannathan, Nathan Fillion, and the supporting cast consistently deliver convincing performances, even when the writing takes their characters in directions I strongly dislike.
Chandler and Pierre deserve particular praise for their chemistry. Their contentious relationship is believable, and both actors manage to communicate years of resentment and complicated history through relatively small interactions.
Chandler also deserves additional credit for making the Halogram feel distinct from the older Hal Jordan. The digital version is noticeably funnier and kinder, and Chandler makes the contrast entertaining without making it feel like an entirely different person.
Even when I strongly disagree with the writing, I can appreciate how much effort the performers put into bringing these characters to life.
A Strong Prestige Crime Drama Is Buried in Here
If I temporarily ignore the fact that this is supposed to be a Green Lantern adaptation, I can recognize how much of the detective story works.
The mystery surrounding Rushville, the shifting timelines, the gradual revelations, and the relationships between the townspeople are handled with considerable confidence. The writers understand how to build an atmosphere of suspicion, and the show occasionally delivers genuinely compelling dramatic material.
However, I can no longer ignore some of the continuity questions that become apparent after the final revelations. A mystery needs to hold together when you look back at earlier episodes, and Lanterns doesn’t always accomplish that.
So while I still consider it a very good crime drama, I don’t think it’s quite the masterpiece I initially believed it was.
The Cinematography and Production Quality
From a technical standpoint, Lanterns is a polished production.
The rural landscapes, nighttime photography, interiors, and carefully controlled visual compositions give the show a consistent identity. Rushville feels like a believable place, and the cinematography does an excellent job reinforcing the sense of isolation surrounding the characters.
I can appreciate the craftsmanship even while criticizing the creative direction.
However, I also think the relentlessly muted visual palette becomes a problem when applied to a superhero property whose identity is so closely associated with vivid color and imaginative cosmic imagery.
John’s Personal Struggle
The exploration of John’s upbringing is one of the series’ more interesting ideas.
His parents’ determination to prepare him for the Green Lantern Corps raises worthwhile questions about parental expectations, personal freedom, and whether someone can genuinely choose a destiny that has been imposed upon them since childhood.
I don’t agree with every decision the writers make, but there’s a legitimate character study here, and Aaron Pierre does an excellent job bringing it to life.
Some Genuinely Effective Emotional Moments
Despite my overall frustration, the series does contain moments of genuine emotion.
Hal’s relationship with his strange alien plant Earl gives him an unexpectedly sympathetic side. John’s gradual understanding of his family’s influence adds depth to his personal journey. And the Halogram provides an interesting contrast between the idealistic man Hal once was and the bitter person he eventually became.
These moments demonstrate that the writers are capable of creating emotionally effective material.
I just wish the same level of care had been applied to the broader Green Lantern mythology.
Cons
This Barely Feels Like a Green Lantern Show
Here we go.
My single biggest problem with Lanterns is that it seems almost embarrassed by the material it’s adapting.
Green Lantern is one of DC Comics’ most imaginative superhero properties. We’re talking about an intergalactic organization filled with bizarre alien species, extraordinary planets, ancient cosmic beings, colorful costumes, and weapons capable of creating practically anything their wielders can imagine.
The possibilities are enormous.
And what does HBO give us?
A bleak detective drama set primarily in Nebraska.
Again, the setting itself isn’t the problem. The problem is that the series spends so much time avoiding the wider mythology that I occasionally wondered whether the creative team considered those elements an inconvenience.
Where are the extraordinary alien civilizations? Where are the imaginative constructs? Where’s the sense of wonder? Where’s the Green Lantern Corps actually doing Green Lantern things?
The show introduces pieces of that mythology, but rarely seems interested in celebrating them.
If you’re going to make a Green Lantern television series, could you at least act like you enjoy Green Lantern?
The Power-Ring Constructs Are Criminally Underused
This might be one of my biggest disappointments with the entire series.
A Green Lantern power ring is arguably one of the most imaginative weapons in superhero fiction. Its wielder can create virtually anything they can envision, provided they possess the necessary willpower and concentration. Giant fists, shields, vehicles, elaborate machinery, enormous weapons, and practically any other object imaginable are all possibilities.
And the best part is that different Green Lanterns traditionally express their personalities through the constructs they create. John Stewart’s background as an architect, for example, makes him particularly well suited to producing carefully designed, structurally detailed creations.
So when you announce a television series involving Hal Jordan and John Stewart, you would think the writers would be excited to explore that potential.
Apparently not.
Yes, the show includes constructs, including John’s bird, which is actually an interesting reflection of his personality. But the overall variety and frequency are incredibly disappointing. Most of the time, the rings seem to function as convenient tools rather than weapons limited primarily by the imagination of their users.
Where are the giant mechanical creations? Where are the elaborate defensive structures? Where are the inventive ways of solving problems that only a Green Lantern could accomplish?
I wasn’t expecting a massive CGI spectacle every episode, but I was expecting the show to demonstrate why these power rings are so extraordinary.
Instead, the constructs are so limited that I occasionally forgot the characters were supposed to possess some of the most versatile weapons in the DC Universe.
And before anyone argues that elaborate constructs would have been too expensive, I have a simple response: if you’re making a Green Lantern series, shouldn’t imaginative constructs be one of your production priorities?
Where Are the Other Green Lanterns?
Another major disappointment is the almost complete absence of the wider Green Lantern Corps.
We’re talking about an organization that patrols thousands of sectors across the universe, filled with extraordinary alien species and memorable characters. Kilowog, Tomar-Re, Salaak, Ch’p, and countless other Lanterns demonstrate just how bizarre and imaginative this corner of DC Comics can be.
And yet Lanterns barely scratches the surface of that world.
I understand that the story primarily follows Hal and John. That’s perfectly fine. But would it really have been so difficult to introduce a few other Lanterns, even briefly?
Imagine a scene on Oa showing different alien Lanterns interacting with one another. Imagine John meeting Kilowog during his training. Imagine seeing a handful of Corps members demonstrate completely different approaches to using their rings.
Those moments wouldn’t necessarily require abandoning the detective story. They would simply establish that Hal and John belong to something much larger than themselves.
Instead, the Corps often feels like a distant bureaucracy that exists primarily so characters can complain about its rules.
The 2011 Green Lantern movie, despite its numerous problems, at least understood the importance of introducing audiences to the wider Corps. We got to see Oa, Kilowog, Tomar-Re, and a variety of alien Lanterns.
It’s genuinely embarrassing that a film from 2011 sometimes feels more enthusiastic about the mythology than this modern prestige television series.
The Show Seems Allergic to Color
I know this sounds like a ridiculous complaint, but when practically every visual element has been stripped down to fit a muted prestige-drama aesthetic, I start to wonder what exactly the creative team was trying to accomplish.
Sinestro looks subdued. The environments are subdued. The alien designs are subdued. Even the superhero elements often seem deliberately restrained.
I’m not asking for the entire series to look like a cartoon. I’m asking for some visual imagination.
The 2011 Green Lantern film starring Ryan Reynolds has plenty of problems, and I certainly wouldn’t call it a masterpiece. But you know what that movie understood?
Green Lantern is supposed to be colorful, cosmic, and imaginative.
It gave us Oa. It gave us alien Lanterns. It gave us the Green Lantern Corps. It embraced the sheer strangeness of the mythology.
I never thought I’d be watching a modern HBO adaptation and wishing it would take a few lessons from the 2011 movie, but here we are.
Hal Jordan’s Characterization
As much as I admire Kyle Chandler, I cannot stand many of the writing decisions surrounding Hal.
Making him flawed is one thing. Making him so cruel and irresponsible that I struggle to recognize the heroic qualities associated with the character is something else entirely.
His treatment of John is especially infuriating, and the series sometimes seems more interested in portraying Hal as an abusive mentor than as an experienced superhero whose recklessness occasionally gets the better of him.
There’s a version of this story where Hal is difficult, arrogant, and emotionally damaged without losing the qualities that make him Hal Jordan.
I wish we’d gotten that version.
Guy Gardner Doesn’t Feel Like Guy Gardner
I have a similar problem with Guy Gardner, although for almost the opposite reason.
Guy is supposed to be a loudmouthed, confrontational troublemaker. Yet this version often behaves like a relatively obedient representative of the Green Lantern Corps.
It’s especially strange watching Guy worry about appearances while Hal spends so much of the series acting like the kind of abrasive jerk I’d normally expect Guy to be.
Character reinterpretations are fine, but I still want to recognize the characters being reinterpreted.
The Manhunters Are an Enormous Disappointment
The Manhunters are a fascinating part of Green Lantern history. Traditionally, they’re robotic predecessors to the Green Lantern Corps, created by the Guardians of the Universe before their methods and programming became dangerously flawed.
That’s a fantastic premise for a television mystery.
Unfortunately, the series reimagines them so extensively that much of their distinctive identity disappears.
Rather than embracing their striking robotic appearance and the unsettling implications of artificial beings created to enforce cosmic order, the show primarily presents human-looking characters whose extraterrestrial nature is revealed through exposition.
I understand that adaptations can reinvent mythology, but the new version needs to be compelling on its own terms.
For me, this interpretation never fully justified abandoning so much of what made the original concept interesting.
John’s Fear-Infused Power Battery Makes No Sense to Me
Here’s another creative decision that left me scratching my head.
John Stewart ultimately obtains a new power battery created by Sinestro using materials infused with fear energy. This is not an ordinary Green Lantern battery sanctioned by the Guardians of the Universe. It’s an experimental creation connected to one of the Green Lantern Corps’ most infamous adversaries.
And John just decides to use it.
I’m sorry, WHAT?!
Sinestro’s association with yellow fear-based power is fundamental to Green Lantern mythology. The distinction between willpower and fear is not some insignificant detail that can be casually ignored.
Now, there is potentially an interesting story about John embracing both emotions. I understand that the emotional spectrum allows for unusual combinations and reinterpretations, and I’m not opposed to exploring that possibility.
But the show hasn’t earned it.
John barely gets the opportunity to establish himself as a conventional Green Lantern before the writers decide to give him an unauthorized power source that potentially changes the entire nature of his abilities.
And the finale presents this as an empowering moment rather than something that should raise enormous concerns.
What exactly are we doing here?
Are the writers planning to make John Stewart some kind of Yellow Lantern? Are they creating a new hybrid Lantern? Are they setting up a future storyline where his power becomes corrupted?
Those possibilities could be explored in future projects, but the finale doesn’t provide enough information to make the decision satisfying.
What makes this especially frustrating is that the series seems more interested in reinventing Green Lantern mythology than establishing it.
John’s Independent Contractor Arrangement Is Ridiculous
And then there’s John’s conversation with Guy Gardner in the finale.
John essentially announces that he’s going to protect Earth independently of the Green Lantern Corps and tells Guy to consider him an independent contractor.
An independent contractor?
JOHN, THIS IS AN INTERGALACTIC LAW ENFORCEMENT ORGANIZATION, NOT UBER EATS!
Think about what he’s actually saying. John has spent years outside the Corps, possesses Hal Jordan’s ring, and is powering it with an unauthorized battery created by Sinestro. He isn’t operating under the Guardians’ authority, and he hasn’t received permission to establish himself as Earth’s independent protector.
Yet he effectively tells Guy that the arrangement is already decided.
Who authorized this? Who’s overseeing him? What happens if something goes wrong? And what happens when the Guardians decide they don’t appreciate somebody independently operating with their technology?
Guy actually warns John that the Guardians could send an army after him, which makes the situation even more bizarre.
I understand the intended symbolism. John has spent his entire life following the expectations of his parents, Hal, and the Guardians. Becoming independent represents him finally taking control of his own destiny.
But personal independence and institutional authority are two different things.
John can reject the Guardians’ leadership. He can decide to protect Earth without their permission. But that doesn’t automatically make him an officially recognized Green Lantern with jurisdiction over an entire planet.
And the show treats this as a triumphant conclusion rather than the beginning of a potentially enormous problem.
He’s essentially a rogue Lantern operating with an experimental fear-infused power source.
That sounds like the setup for a major conflict, not a straightforward heroic victory.
The Mystery Has Continuity Questions
Even when I judge Lanterns purely as a crime drama, I have problems with some of its storytelling.
The most obvious example involves John’s reaction to Hal’s missing power ring.
At the end of the first episode, John checks Hal’s hand, apparently expecting to find the ring. He seems genuinely surprised when it isn’t there.
But the flashbacks eventually establish that John himself took Hal’s ring in 2016 and returned it to the Guardians.
So why is he surprised?
Now, it’s possible John believes Hal eventually obtained another ring or had his original ring returned during the intervening decade. But if that’s the explanation, the series needs to establish it.
Otherwise, the scene feels like the writers deliberately gave John a reaction intended to make the audience suspicious, even though the later revelations make that reaction difficult to reconcile.
And that’s the distinction I want to emphasize. I’m not claiming it’s absolutely impossible to explain, but the show doesn’t adequately establish why John expects a ring to be there in the first place.
That’s particularly frustrating in a murder mystery, where small details and character reactions are supposed to matter.
It’s one of the reasons I’ve lowered my crime drama rating from a 9/10 to an 8/10.
The Central Murder Revelation Is Difficult to Believe
Even putting aside the Green Lantern mythology, I think the biggest problem with the mystery is the explanation for why Hal Jordan is murdered.
Throughout the season, Kerry Kane is portrayed as an intelligent, levelheaded sheriff who generally thinks before she acts. She’s observant, capable of handling difficult situations, and frequently seems to be one step ahead of everybody else.
Yet when the circumstances of Hal’s death are finally revealed, she suddenly behaves in a way that I find completely inconsistent with the character we’ve spent eight episodes getting to know.
I understand that people can make irrational decisions when they’re frightened. But the story still needs to make those decisions psychologically convincing.
And for me, Lanterns fails to do that.
I’ll explain exactly why in the spoiler section, because this is one of the biggest reasons I ultimately lowered my crime drama rating.
Too Much Talking, Not Enough Superhero Action
Let me clarify something.
I am not somebody who believes every superhero show needs an action sequence every ten minutes.
But Lanterns goes so far in the opposite direction that its restraint becomes frustrating.
Power rings capable of producing nearly limitless constructs should provide some of the most creative action sequences imaginable. Instead, the show repeatedly chooses conversations, interrogations, and emotional confrontations over visual demonstrations of what these characters can actually do.
By the finale, I was practically begging somebody to use a ring for something more interesting than another symbolic moment.
The Show’s Morality Is Inconsistent
The series spends considerable time examining the consequences of Hal and John’s decisions, particularly the suffering inflicted upon Rushville.
That’s a perfectly legitimate theme.
However, the show becomes remarkably forgiving when other characters commit terrible acts.
Residents threaten people. Characters engage in intimidation and extortion. Others participate in outright violence. Yet the narrative doesn’t consistently hold them to the same standards it applies to its protagonists.
I understand that these people have suffered, but suffering doesn’t give someone unlimited permission to mistreat everybody else.
This inconsistency becomes particularly noticeable in the finale, which I’ll discuss in detail below.
The Finale Is an Anticlimax
I don’t think I can overstate how disappointed I was by the final episode.
After an entire season of mystery, conspiracy, alien technology, and escalating personal conflicts, the conclusion feels astonishingly quiet.
And not necessarily quiet in a powerful, emotionally devastating way.
Just quiet.
Conversation after conversation. Revelation after revelation. Decision after decision.
The show resolves major conflicts without providing the sense of urgency, danger, or superhero spectacle I expected from its climax.
It almost feels like the writers decided that the most exciting possible ending to a Green Lantern series would be watching everybody sit down and talk through their problems.
I’m sorry, but after eight episodes, I wanted considerably more than that.
Final Thoughts
Lanterns is one of the strangest television experiences I’ve had in quite some time.
I can recognize the talent involved. I can appreciate the performances, the cinematography, the character development, and the construction of its central mystery. If somebody told me this was an original HBO crime drama about two investigators uncovering a decades-old extraterrestrial conspiracy in rural Nebraska, I might have walked away considerably more satisfied.
But it isn’t an original HBO crime drama.
It’s a Green Lantern adaptation.
And that changes my expectations.
I came into this series wanting to explore the Green Lantern mythology through a new creative perspective. I wanted to see Hal Jordan and John Stewart investigate a mystery while still existing within the extraordinary cosmic world that makes these characters special.
Instead, I watched eight episodes that seemed determined to make Green Lantern as grounded, restrained, and visually subdued as possible.
I don’t believe every adaptation needs to recreate its source material exactly. However, I do believe adaptations should preserve enough of the original identity to justify using the name.
And for me, Lanterns fails that test.
The most frustrating part is that I can see a very good television series underneath all my complaints. This isn’t a poorly acted, incompetently produced disaster. It’s a technically impressive show that made a series of creative choices I fundamentally disagree with.
And that’s what makes me question the creative team’s approach to the source material.
I don’t necessarily believe the writers were unfamiliar with Green Lantern comics. Co-creator Tom King has extensive experience writing DC Comics, and the show’s creative team has explicitly referenced established Lantern mythology when discussing their decisions.
But knowing the lore and understanding what makes it appealing are two different things.
Hal Jordan is introduced as a bitter, abusive mentor and killed off in his first DCU appearance. Guy Gardner becomes unusually restrained. The Manhunters lose much of their iconic robotic identity. The Green Lantern Corps barely appears. The constructs are severely underused. And John Stewart ends the season powering his ring with an unauthorized fear-infused battery created by Sinestro while declaring himself an independent contractor.
Individually, you could probably construct an interesting explanation for every one of those decisions.
But when you combine them, the series starts feeling more interested in dismantling familiar Green Lantern concepts than establishing why audiences should love them in the first place.
You can’t expect audiences to appreciate how clever your reinvention is when you’ve barely allowed them to experience what you’re reinventing.
I can admire the craftsmanship while still hating the experience of watching it as a Green Lantern fan.
Which brings me to what might be the most unusual rating I’ve ever given a television series.
Rating
As an HBO prestige crime drama: 8/10
Phenomenal performances, polished cinematography, an interesting central mystery, and ambitious character writing. However, continuity questions, questionable character reactions, and the unconvincing circumstances surrounding the central murder prevent me from giving it the 9/10 I originally considered.
As a Green Lantern television series: 1/10
A deeply disappointing adaptation that strips away much of the cosmic spectacle, imaginative world-building, recognizable characterization, creative power-ring constructs, and superhero excitement that I associate with Green Lantern.
I’m deliberately keeping these ratings separate because averaging them would completely misrepresent my reaction.
One score recognizes the quality of the crime drama. The other reflects how thoroughly the show disappointed me as an adaptation.
Final verdict: A very good prestige crime drama that, in my opinion, makes for a terrible Green Lantern show.
SPOILER WARNING!
The following section contains major spoilers for all eight episodes of Lanterns, including Hal Jordan’s death, the identity of his killer, the Manhunter revelations, and the season finale. If you haven’t finished the series, turn back now.
Spoilers
Hal Jordan Is Murdered, and the Mystery Becomes the Center of the Series
One of the show’s biggest narrative decisions is revealing that Hal Jordan dies in the present-day timeline, leaving John Stewart to investigate what happened.
I can appreciate the ambition behind this decision. Killing a major character creates an immediate mystery and allows the writers to explore his legacy through the people who knew him.
However, I’m not convinced it was the best direction for Hal Jordan’s introduction to this DC Universe.
We’re talking about one of the most recognizable Green Lanterns in DC history, and this interpretation spends much of its time portraying him as a deeply unpleasant person before killing him off.
The series does eventually attempt to humanize him, but I wish we’d had more opportunities to appreciate him as a genuinely heroic Green Lantern before the story became primarily concerned with his death.
And yes, the mystery surrounding his murder is reasonably compelling.
The problem is what the show ultimately does with the answer.
Kerry Kane’s Reason for Killing Hal Jordan Is Ridiculous
Now, let’s talk about something that genuinely makes me question the writing behind this entire murder mystery: WHY THE HELL DOES KERRY SHOOT HAL JORDAN?!
Throughout the season, Kerry Kane is portrayed as an intelligent, levelheaded sheriff who generally thinks before she acts. She’s observant, capable of handling difficult situations, and frequently seems to be one step ahead of everybody else. Kelly Macdonald does a phenomenal job portraying her, which makes the circumstances surrounding Hal’s death even more frustrating.
Because when we finally discover what happened, I genuinely couldn’t believe how stupid the situation was.
Hal discovers that Noah is a Manhunter and realizes that the Guardians could pose an enormous threat to him. His solution is to take Kerry and Noah somewhere safe, away from the Guardians, where he can protect them both.
Let me emphasize that.
HE WANTS TO PROTECT KERRY AND NOAH. BOTH OF THEM!
He’s not threatening to separate Kerry from her son. He’s not telling her that Noah needs to be eliminated. He’s not suggesting that he should hand Noah over to the Guardians. He’s offering to help them escape together.
And how does Kerry respond?
She starts crying, tells Hal to shut up, demands that he leave, points her gun at him, and shoots him in the head.
WHAT?!
I’m sorry, but at what point did Kerry Kane turn into a freaking NPC from Grand Theft Auto?!
Hal is standing there trying to explain how he intends to protect the woman he loves and her son, and apparently Kerry decides the most logical response is to pull out a gun and murder him.
Now, I understand that she’s frightened. I understand that she’s a mother who’s terrified of losing her child. But fear alone doesn’t automatically make every decision believable, especially when the character has spent the entire season demonstrating that she’s capable of thinking rationally under pressure.
You know what would have made considerably more sense? If Hal had told Kerry that Noah was too dangerous and needed to be taken away from her. At least then her panic would have a clear motivation. She might believe that Hal was about to separate her from her son, and the confrontation could escalate into a tragic, impulsive act.
But that’s not what happens!
HAL IS LITERALLY OFFERING TO KEEP THEM TOGETHER!
And that’s what makes this revelation so disappointing. Rather than feeling like the tragic culmination of Kerry’s character development, it feels like the writers suddenly needed her to become irrational because the story required Hal Jordan to be murdered.
It’s particularly frustrating because the entire season revolves around discovering who killed Hal and why. When you build eight episodes around a murder mystery, the explanation needs to be convincing.
For me, this wasn’t convincing. It was a character behaving in a way that seemed designed to serve the plot rather than emerge naturally from her established personality.
And to make matters worse, John eventually decides that Kerry doesn’t need to face meaningful consequences because Hal probably wouldn’t have wanted her punished.
So not only does Kerry kill Hal for a reason I find completely unconvincing, but the series then gives her an extraordinarily forgiving resolution.
I’m sorry, but this is exactly why I can no longer justify giving Lanterns a 9/10 as a crime drama. The performances might be phenomenal, and the mystery might be intriguing, but when the central murder revelation depends on a character suddenly making an unbelievably foolish decision, that’s a serious storytelling problem.
Hal Jordan’s Death Is Strangely Staged
Now, I need to talk about something that genuinely took me out of the moment.
When Kerry shoots Hal Jordan in the head, he doesn’t collapse in the way I expected. Instead, he appears to settle into a seated position before dying.
I’m sorry, WHAT?!
The man has just been shot in the head, and apparently his final instinct is to politely take a seat.
Now, I understand that gunshot victims don’t always fall in the same direction or react identically. I’m not claiming that every person who suffers a fatal head injury must immediately fall backward with their arms at their sides.
But the staging of this particular scene looks so strangely composed that it almost becomes unintentionally funny.
Rather than conveying the sudden, horrifying impact of Kerry’s decision, the moment makes it look as though Hal has decided to sit down and process the situation.
It’s a bizarre visual choice for what should have been one of the season’s most shocking revelations.
The Missing Ring Continuity Question
Here’s another problem that becomes apparent when you look back at the first episode.
At the end of that episode, John checks Hal’s hand, apparently searching for his Green Lantern ring. When he discovers that the ring isn’t there, he seems genuinely surprised.
But later flashbacks reveal that John himself took Hal’s ring in 2016 and returned it to the Guardians.
So why is he surprised?
Did he believe Hal had been issued another ring? Did he think the Guardians had returned the original ring? Had something happened during the intervening decade that made him expect Hal to be wearing one?
Those are all possible explanations, but the series doesn’t adequately establish them.
And that’s a problem in a murder mystery.
When writers deliberately emphasize a character’s reaction to a missing object, the audience is supposed to assume that reaction matters. But when the story later reveals that the character already knew the object had been taken away years earlier, that reaction becomes difficult to reconcile.
It feels like a moment written primarily to mislead the audience rather than a reaction naturally motivated by what John knows.
I’m not saying there’s absolutely no possible explanation. I’m saying the show should have provided one.
This is exactly the kind of storytelling issue that made me reconsider my original 9/10 crime drama rating.
The 2016 Rushville Catastrophe
The flashback storyline reveals that Hal and John’s investigation into the Manhunters eventually leads to a devastating confrontation in Rushville.
Hal’s determination to handle the situation himself, rather than properly involving the Guardians, contributes to a catastrophe that leaves numerous people dead and the town permanently traumatized.
Hal is subsequently imprisoned for reckless endangerment, while John becomes disillusioned with the Green Lantern Corps and rejects the path his parents spent years preparing him to follow.
This is an important turning point, and I understand why the writers wanted to explore the consequences of a superhero making reckless decisions.
However, I also think the show places so much emphasis on Hal’s culpability that his character becomes almost defined by failure.
More importantly, the catastrophe establishes a pattern in which the residents of Rushville use their suffering to justify behavior that the series rarely examines with equal seriousness.
Hal’s Treatment of John Is Unbelievable
There are several moments during the earlier timeline when Hal’s treatment of John goes beyond ordinary tough-love mentorship.
The most outrageous example involves Hal abandoning John in a moving vehicle, leading to a crash and fire that nearly kills him.
Seriously, what the hell?
John is supposed to be his trainee, not somebody Hal can recklessly endanger whenever he’s angry or frustrated.
Zoe eventually rescues John and heals his injuries using alien technology, but that doesn’t make Hal’s behavior any less appalling.
And what’s particularly frustrating is that the series spends so much time exploring Hal’s regrets without giving John the straightforward apology he deserves from the living man.
Instead, much of their emotional reconciliation happens through the Halogram.
Which brings me to another interesting creative decision.
The Halogram Is Funnier and Nicer Than the Actual Hal Jordan
I genuinely enjoyed the Halogram.
He’s a younger digital representation of Hal, preserved through his ring, and somehow manages to be more likable than the actual man.
He’s funnier, more playful, and considerably kinder toward John. His sense of humor gives Kyle Chandler an opportunity to portray a version of Hal who feels much closer to the charismatic character I would have liked to see throughout the series.
And honestly, I found that contrast hilarious.
The living Hal Jordan spends much of his screen time being a miserable jerk, while his digital reconstruction is cracking jokes and actually treating John with some degree of compassion.
Apparently, the ring managed to preserve Hal’s personality before he became such an insufferable person.
His farewell, particularly the playful exchange ending with “I love you too, Junior,” is one of the more effective emotional moments in the finale.
And I think that’s worth emphasizing because I don’t want this review to suggest I disliked every single creative decision.
The Halogram is genuinely entertaining, and Kyle Chandler deserves considerable credit for making both versions of Hal feel distinct.
Zoe Macon and the Manhunter Reveal
Now we arrive at one of my biggest problems with the show’s mythology.
Zoe Macon is revealed to be a Manhunter, one of the artificial beings created by the Guardians before the Green Lantern Corps.
In the comics, Manhunters are traditionally robotic enforcers with distinctive designs and a long, complicated history. Their existence raises fascinating questions about artificial intelligence, absolute justice, and the dangers of allowing programmed beings to enforce morality without compassion.
The show’s interpretation is considerably different.
Zoe appears human, lives among the people of Rushville, develops complicated relationships, and possesses technology capable of healing otherwise catastrophic injuries.
The Guardians insist that Manhunters are extraordinarily dangerous, and the series eventually establishes that Zoe’s actions devastated an alien civilization through fear-inducing toxins.
So there is evidence of the threat.
However, the show spends remarkably little time visually demonstrating the full horror of what these beings are capable of. Much of their destructive history is communicated through conversations and explanations.
That makes the threat feel strangely abstract.
And when the primary Manhunters we actually spend time with are a grandmother and a teenage football player, it’s difficult not to find the contrast a little ridiculous.
Noah Macon Is Also a Manhunter
The finale reveals that Kerry’s son Noah is another Manhunter, although his origins are significantly stranger than anything I expected.
Apparently, Zoe used alien technology to regenerate Kerry’s severed finger, and Kerry subsequently became pregnant despite not having been sexually active for months.
So the implication is that Zoe somehow used the healing procedure to create or implant Noah.
Okay.
I suppose that’s one way to reinvent the Manhunters.
But I couldn’t help wondering why the writers felt the need to transform traditionally robotic artificial beings into something resembling a bizarre extraterrestrial family lineage.
The explanation may technically account for Noah’s existence, but it doesn’t automatically make the reinvention satisfying.
Noah also reveals that his programming encourages him to acquire political power, potentially become president, and ultimately exterminate humanity.
Now, that is genuinely disturbing.
Unfortunately, most of this information comes from Noah explaining his own thoughts rather than the series dramatizing the threat.
And the boy himself is clearly terrified of what he might become.
He rescues Hal from the burning house. He resists his programming. He voluntarily gives up the power ring. He even asks John to kill him because he’s afraid of eventually harming innocent people.
Those are meaningful character moments, but they also create a strange problem for the larger story.
The Guardians have spent so much time insisting that Manhunters must be eliminated, yet the finale gives us a Manhunter whose most significant decision is choosing compassion over destruction.
I understand that this is intended to challenge the Guardians’ worldview.
But if the show wants the audience to appreciate the danger John is risking by allowing Noah to live, I think it needed to establish that danger more convincingly.
Sinestro’s Role Is Another Missed Opportunity
Sinestro’s involvement in the conspiracy eventually leads to the creation of a new lantern infused with fear energy.
Noah breaks Sinestro out of prison and brings him to the devastated alien world associated with Antaan, hoping to obtain the power necessary to confront the Guardians.
This is potentially fascinating material.
Sinestro, fear-based power, a new lantern, and a conflict with the Guardians? Those are enormous concepts within Green Lantern mythology.
And what does the show do with them?
Mostly conversations.
Sinestro explains things, negotiates, and provides information before John and the Halogram leave him stranded on the alien planet.
We don’t get a satisfying confrontation that fully explores the implications of this new power, and Sinestro’s ultimate fate remains unresolved.
For a character of his importance, that’s disappointing.
John Uses Sinestro’s Fear-Infused Battery
And here’s where the finale really starts making me question the creative decisions.
Sinestro creates a power battery using materials contaminated with fear energy. The battery is not authorized by the Guardians, and even the Halogram warns John that he doesn’t know what it might do.
Yet John ultimately decides to use it to recharge his ring.
What could possibly go wrong?
The entire Green Lantern mythology is built around the relationship between willpower and fear. Sinestro’s connection to yellow fear-based power is fundamental to his character and his eventual opposition to the Green Lantern Corps.
So having John Stewart casually adopt a battery containing fear energy is an enormous creative decision.
And the show treats it as part of his triumphant transformation into Earth’s Green Lantern.
I’m sorry, but that feels completely backwards.
John barely gets the opportunity to establish himself as a conventional Green Lantern before the writers start experimenting with his power source and identity.
Now, co-creator Tom King has explained that John is not entirely a conventional Green Lantern anymore because his battery contains yellow energy. That suggests the creative team is deliberately exploring a hybrid interpretation of the character.
But knowing that the decision was intentional doesn’t automatically make it satisfying.
Are we setting up John to become a Yellow Lantern? Are we creating a new kind of Lantern entirely? Is the fear energy going to corrupt his abilities?
Those are questions future stories may answer, but the finale leaves me feeling like the writers were more interested in reinventing John Stewart than actually allowing him to be John Stewart.
John’s Independent Contractor Declaration
And then there’s the scene where John summons Guy Gardner.
John announces that he’s going to protect Earth independently of the Green Lantern Corps and essentially tells Guy to consider him an independent contractor.
An independent contractor?
JOHN, THIS IS AN INTERGALACTIC LAW ENFORCEMENT ORGANIZATION, NOT UBER EATS!
I understand the symbolism. John is rejecting the expectations imposed upon him by his parents, Hal, and the Guardians. He’s finally choosing his own destiny.
But there’s a slight problem.
He isn’t operating under the Guardians’ authority. He possesses Hal’s ring. He’s powering it with an unauthorized battery created by Sinestro. And he’s now announcing that Earth is his responsibility.
Who authorized this arrangement?
Guy warns him that the Guardians could send an army after him, and John essentially shrugs off the concern.
The scene is clearly intended to be empowering, but I couldn’t help thinking that John has effectively declared himself a rogue Green Lantern.
And what’s even stranger is Guy’s reaction. For a character famous for being confrontational and stubborn, he seems remarkably willing to tolerate John’s announcement.
The entire exchange feels like another example of the series prioritizing its thematic message over the established personalities and organizational structure of the Green Lantern Corps.
John’s New Green Lantern Oath
Now, I want to talk about something I actually don’t hate: John’s new oath.
In the finale, John recites a personalized oath emphasizing his willingness to embrace fear, do what’s right, and choose his own path.
And you know what?
It’s okay.
It’s not fantastic. It’s not especially memorable. But it’s also nowhere near as terrible as some people have made it out to be.
I actually appreciate the idea behind it. John’s parents raised him to suppress fear, and the series gradually teaches him that courage doesn’t necessarily mean never being afraid. Embracing fear while choosing to act heroically is a perfectly reasonable message.
I particularly like the line about choosing the ring and choosing the fight, because it reflects John’s decision to stop allowing other people to determine his future.
My problem isn’t necessarily the oath itself.
My problem is the context surrounding it.
John is reciting this new oath while charging his ring with a battery created by Sinestro using fear-infused materials. The show has barely established him as a traditional Green Lantern, and now he’s already developing his own interpretation of what being a Lantern means.
I can appreciate the thematic intention without believing the series has earned the transformation.
So no, I’m not going to pretend the oath is some unforgivable insult to the source material.
It’s simply an acceptable but unremarkable reinterpretation surrounded by much larger creative problems.
Rushville Might Be One of the Most Hypocritical Towns I’ve Seen on Television
I understand that the people of Rushville suffered horribly during the 2016 catastrophe.
I understand that Hal’s decisions contributed to their suffering.
What I don’t understand is why so many residents seem to believe that their trauma gives them permission to behave like complete psychopaths.
Take Billy Macon, for example.
When John activates the Green Lantern beacon, Billy arrives with several men and threatens him, effectively demanding that he shut it off or face violence.
John attempts to de-escalate the situation, even asking Billy to think about his son.
Billy responds aggressively, and the confrontation turns physical.
Yet the show seems far more interested in questioning John’s conduct than in seriously examining the fact that Billy arrived with a group of men and threatened him.
Then there’s Maggie, who blackmails John for an enormous sum of money by threatening to reveal information about his confrontation with Hal.
I’m sorry, but since when does surviving a traumatic event give somebody the right to extort hundreds of thousands of dollars?
And perhaps the most outrageous example comes when residents firebomb Hal’s house while he’s apparently inside.
Let me repeat that.
THEY SET A MAN’S HOUSE ON FIRE WHILE HE’S INSIDE IT!
That’s not ordinary resentment. That’s potentially attempted murder.
And yet the people responsible don’t receive the kind of meaningful accountability the series demands from its protagonists.
By the end, I was almost rooting for John to leave Rushville behind and never return.
Kerry Kane Faces Almost No Consequences for Killing Hal
As if Kerry’s reason for shooting Hal wasn’t frustrating enough, the series then gives her an extraordinarily forgiving resolution.
Kerry admits what she did and indicates that she intends to turn herself in.
And John essentially tells her not to bother because he doesn’t think Hal would have wanted that.
Excuse me?
JOHN, SHE SHOT HIM IN THE HEAD!
I understand that Hal loved Kerry. I understand that he might have forgiven her. But John doesn’t actually know what Hal would have wanted, and even if Hal had forgiven her, that wouldn’t erase the fact that she killed somebody.
Kerry is also the town’s sheriff, which makes the situation even more troubling.
The person responsible for enforcing the law committed a homicide, concealed her involvement, and then participated in the investigation surrounding the victim’s death.
And the resolution is essentially that John decides she has suffered enough.
I’m sorry, but that’s not a satisfying conclusion to a murder mystery.
It’s an extraordinary example of the show applying different moral standards depending on which character happens to be involved.
Hal spends years facing consequences for his reckless actions.
Kerry shoots him in the head.
And apparently, we’re supposed to accept that letting her walk away is an emotionally enlightened decision.
I don’t buy it.
John Lets Noah Live
I want to distinguish this decision from the Kerry situation because I don’t think they’re morally identical.
Noah hasn’t chosen to commit the atrocities his programming encourages him to commit. He actively resists those impulses and demonstrates that he has the capacity for compassion.
So I understand why John refuses to execute him simply because of what he is.
In fact, that is arguably one of John’s more heroic decisions.
The problem is that the show has established Noah as a potentially catastrophic threat without providing a particularly convincing plan for what happens if his programming eventually overwhelms him.
John essentially decides to trust him while preparing to intervene if necessary.
That’s a noble idea.
But when we’re talking about a being whose programming could potentially lead to the extermination of humanity, I think the situation deserves a little more than another heartfelt conversation.
The Finale: Everybody Just Talks!
I have saved my biggest pacing complaint for last because the finale perfectly encapsulates everything that frustrated me about the series.
John confronts Noah, and they talk.
John confronts Kerry, and they talk.
John summons Guy, and they talk.
John says goodbye to the Halogram, and they talk.
Sinestro appears, and guess what?
MORE TALKING!
I’m genuinely amazed that a television series involving intergalactic superheroes, power rings, artificial beings, fear-based weapons, and a potential threat to humanity could reach its grand finale and deliver so little actual superhero action.
The characters resolve nearly every major conflict through dialogue.
And again, I don’t object to conversations in principle. Good dialogue is essential to good television.
But there’s a difference between using dialogue to strengthen a dramatic climax and allowing dialogue to become a substitute for one.
The finale has revelations, emotional moments, and thematic conclusions, but very little physical escalation or spectacle.
After spending seven episodes waiting for the series to fully embrace the Green Lantern premise, I was hoping the finale might finally deliver.
Instead, the show doubled down on everything I had already grown tired of.
I walked away feeling like I’d watched a very expensive HBO crime drama that had spent eight episodes doing everything possible to avoid becoming a superhero show.
Final Spoiler Thoughts
I think what bothers me most about Lanterns is that the show contains so many interesting ideas that I wish had been incorporated into a more recognizable Green Lantern adventure.
A murder mystery involving Hal Jordan? Interesting.
John Stewart struggling with his parents’ expectations? Interesting.
The Guardians concealing the truth about the Manhunters? Interesting.
Sinestro experimenting with fear-based power? Very interesting.
A young Manhunter struggling against destructive programming? Potentially fascinating.
None of those ideas is inherently bad.
But when the series combines them into a relentlessly grounded, dialogue-heavy crime drama that sidelines the cosmic spectacle and imaginative superhero elements, the result becomes something I simply cannot enjoy as a Green Lantern adaptation.
And that’s the fundamental contradiction at the heart of my review.
I think Lanterns is a very good crime drama. I also think it’s an absolutely dreadful Green Lantern show.
Both opinions can be true at the same time.
I respect the actors. I recognize the technical quality. I can see the ambition behind the writing.
But I cannot pretend that I enjoyed spending eight episodes watching a franchise famous for its limitless imagination repeatedly choose to limit itself.
If this is the direction DC Studios wants to take Green Lantern, then I sincerely hope future appearances of John Stewart and Guy Gardner remember something this series seemed to forget:
These characters aren’t just detectives with complicated personal lives. They’re Green Lanterns.
And I’d really, really like to see them act like it.
