A lethal virus devastates and degrades society. A fascist regime holds power, with state agents abducting citizens from the streets. Late-night television hosts are silenced for criticizing the government. While this describes the narrative of V for Vendetta, a brief glance at current headlines reveals why this dystopian graphic novel adaptation feels particularly pertinent two decades after its release. However, it would be inaccurate to claim V for Vendetta foresaw the future, nor is it a flawless film for our current era. Instead, the last twenty years have highlighted a sentiment that was always present in the 2006 film but perhaps obscured by its stylized action, iconic mask, and themes of righteous rebellion. V for Vendetta is profoundly melancholic.
Legendary comic writer Alan Moore did not intend for V for Vendetta to mirror the America of the 2020s when he penned the graphic novel in the late 1980s. It was not meant to reflect the America of the 2000s or serve as a response to the Bush administration and the Iraq War, even though that was clearly the context for the Wachowskis’ screenplay. Moore, who has disavowed the film as he has most adaptations of his work, was reacting to Margaret Thatcher’s Britain, envisioning a dystopian English future where a masked anarchist terrorist battles a fascist state. Moore—a famously cantankerous figure, often with good reason—would likely be unimpressed to learn that an American finds the film version of his four-decade-old story so relevant today. (He is also likely annoyed, though not surprised, by the television adaptation currently in development at HBO.)
Featuring Hugo Weaving as the articulate and lethal masked vigilante V and Natalie Portman as a young woman drawn into his crusade against Britain’s fascist high chancellor (John Hurt), V for Vendetta emerged as a comic book film just before the superhero genre dominated the box office. The launch of the MCU in 2008 coincided with the end of the Bush era, meaning V for Vendetta simultaneously attempted to deliver blockbuster comic-inspired action while navigating the political climate of the Global War on Terror. Viewing it today, these two impulses conflict, somewhat muddying the themes. As V wields knives and dispatches henchmen, he functions as a quintessential action hero—a virtuous figure fighting evil and inspiring the masses toward a noble goal. The antagonists, despite being British, are coded as an American cautionary tale. The dialogue frequently references how “America’s war” led to the collapse of the states, allowing an ultra-conservative Britain to rise in its place. The violent, righteous hero serves as a proxy for liberalism, while the villains represent an exaggerated “what-if” scenario of neoconservatism.
In 2006, it was easier to view V for Vendetta as a story about a dystopian future and the masked savior who rescues the day. That perspective was remarkably naive. Maintaining such naivety in 2026 is difficult, partly because elements of V for Vendetta that seemed fantastical twenty years ago have now manifested in various forms. The film’s St. Mary’s Virus feels significantly more terrifying now that audiences have endured the COVID-19 pandemic. The cancellation of Stephen Colbert’s Late Show or the suspension of Jimmy Kimmel Live! last autumn following objections from the Trump administration are not as extreme as the film’s depiction, where a talk show host played by Stephen Fry is beaten, kidnapped, and executed for a satirical sketch mocking the high chancellor. Nevertheless, the parallels are striking: masked security forces on the streets, banners of the leader’s face adorning government buildings, and pundits warning of “others” who threaten national unity. The cumulative effect is overwhelming.
Of course, being struck by the resonance of V for Vendetta only now reveals a certain level of privilege. Injustice existed in this country and globally twenty years ago. For every fortunate viewer who watched V for Vendetta in 2026 and found entertainment in its fanciful dystopia, there were others already living lives that closely mirrored the grim society on screen. The film understood its subject matter well at the time; it is simply much harder to ignore how blatant those similarities have become in 2026. The corrupt, fascist England that V opposes feels less like a metaphor for our future and more like a distorted reflection of our present.
Ironically, there is one way in which V for Vendetta feels less relevant today than it did two decades ago: the Guy Fawkes mask worn by V. The hacker collective Anonymous adopted the mask following the film’s release, launching cyberattacks throughout the 2000s and 2010s against targets like the Church of Scientology and the Russian government. While opinions on the morality or efficacy of this hacktivism vary, their use of the Guy Fawkes mask offered a sense of comfort: V for Vendetta’s dystopia was a fictional future, yet in reality, a version of the hero was already fighting back. Anonymous still exists in some capacity, but they are far less prominent, and the Guy Fawkes mask rarely appears in the news anymore—instead, we see the very things V fought against when he wore it.
Indeed, many heroes continue to fight injustice today without the need for a Guy Fawkes mask. The most inspiring and optimistic aspect of V for Vendetta arrives at the conclusion, when ordinary people rise up. It is a hopeful and necessary note to end on, especially given how much more somber the film feels today. The epic sequences now feel hollow, while the distressing moments feel increasingly authentic. Perhaps this is how it should have been perceived all along: the somber portrayal of life under a fascist state is central to the film’s power. The movie has not changed; we are simply better equipped to recognize it.