Pop culture often thrives on the idea of throwing big personalities together to see what unfolds, but not every team works the same way. The Avengers might break box-office records when united, but ultimately, they’re solo stars who temporarily share the spotlight.
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| 'Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' Paramount+ |
On the other hand, the magic of the Friends lies in their bond as a group—take one away, and you’re left with something less, like Joey.
Paramount+’s Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles initially seems to miscalculate where its heroes fit on this spectrum. The first six episodes of the twelve-episode season mostly keep the core four apart, sacrificing much of the charming chemistry that made 2023’s Mutant Mayhem so enjoyable.
However, it maintains enough of that film’s energy to be a worthy sequel and eventually circles back to a deeper exploration of what truly makes the Turtles function as a team.
The series retains much of Mutant Mayhem’s charming, handcrafted aesthetic, though understandably in a less elaborate and costly manner. Tales opts for cleaner, simpler lines, aligning with the show’s framing device: the adventures are depicted as a comic book drawn by Leonardo (voiced by Nicolas Cantu), the katana-wielding leader of the Turtles.
Whether this means the story isn’t canon within the broader universe is unclear, and the show doesn’t seem particularly concerned with Marvel-style interconnected world-building.
Leo’s story, crafted by showrunners Chris Yost and Alan Wan, picks up where the movie left off. After saving New York City, Leo and his brothers are eager to return to typical teenage activities like high school and house parties. However, their plans are interrupted when they’re ambushed by Bishop (voiced by Alanna Ubach), a mysterious villain who believes that “for the survival of humanity, all mutants must be destroyed.”
The Turtles are separated during the attack, and each of the first four episodes follows one brother as he’s pursued by Bishop’s mechazoids—relentless robots that can upgrade (or mutate) themselves on the go.
Given that Mutant Mayhem went to great lengths to capture the authentic chemistry of its young cast by having them record together, it’s initially disappointing that Tales offers limited opportunities to showcase that lived-in rapport.
However, the storyline turns this into an exploration of each Turtle’s individual identity—both apart from and in relation to the others. For instance, the often-angry Raphael (voiced by Brady Noon) might doubt his value beyond going into “beast mode,” only to discover during a critical moment that he’s picked up a thing or two from jokester Michelangelo (Shamon Brown Jr.) about using humor to disarm foes.
Each Turtle reflects on his brothers, but through his unique perspective: Nerdy Donatello (Micah Abbey) envisions a confrontation as if it were a 1990s video game, while Leo’s musings take the form of even cruder comic-book doodles.
The series also brings a playful energy to the world surrounding its young heroes. While Ayo Edebiri’s April O’Neil remains a consistent presence, many of the high-profile supporting characters from the movie are absent in the first half of the show. For example, Splinter, the Turtles’ rat father, communicates in “vermin” to sidestep the need for a Jackie Chan cameo.
Yet, this version of New York City still feels lively and authentic: Leonardo’s wallowing is interrupted by bickering neighbors, and Raphael’s imprisonment is overseen by a massive thug (voiced by Carlin James) who exudes the awkwardness of a character straight out of Inside Out 2.
As a TV-Y7 show, Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles treads lightly when it comes to dark themes. The action sequences are dynamic and inventive, often incorporating humorous elements like candy bars and squawking chickens. However, the violence is toned down, with the destruction mainly focused on robots, ensuring a bloodless experience.
While you could, if you’re inclined, interpret Raphael’s time on a poultry farm as a commentary on animal rights or view Bishop’s fear-mongering rhetoric as a reflection of bigotry, the show handles these themes subtly, prioritizing family-friendly escapism over overt social commentary.
Where the series truly shines is in its portrayal of the Turtles’ familial bonds. When they eventually reunite, the emotional support they offer each other is deeply resonant, enriched by the individual journeys we’ve witnessed. This dynamic makes one even more eager to see the whole gang together in future episodes.
Although Bishop dismisses the Turtles as something other than “regular kids” because “Regular kids are not green,” the series connects with anyone who has ever felt the weight of familial expectations, relied on a relative’s advice in tough times, or simply appreciated the complexities of family life — which is to say, nearly everyone.
