In the flickering glow of a rain-slicked London night, where surveillance cameras wink like unblinking eyes and the air hangs heavy with the scent of revolution, a Guy Fawkes mask emerges from the shadows once more. Nearly two decades after the explosive 2005 film adaptation stormed theaters with its rallying cry of “Remember, remember the fifth of November,” HBO and DC Studios are resurrecting Alan Moore and David Lloyd’s seminal graphic novel V for Vendetta as a sprawling television series. At the helm of this audacious endeavor? None other than James Gunn and Peter Safran, the co-CEOs of DC Studios, whose fingerprints are already all over the DC Universe’s bold new chapter. Announced exclusively by Variety on November 11, 2025—just days shy of Bonfire Night—the project signals a seismic shift in how Warner Bros. Discovery is mining its comic book vault. This isn’t a dusty reboot clinging to nostalgia; it’s a fresh dissection of dystopian dread, penned by acclaimed screenwriter Pete Jackson and executive produced by Gunn’s visionary team. As global headlines erupt with speculation, one thing is clear: in an era of creeping authoritarianism and digital panopticons, V’s vendetta feels timelier than ever—and Gunn is betting the house on it.

The news dropped like a homemade explosive into the entertainment zeitgeist, igniting forums from Reddit’s r/DC_Cinematic to X’s feverish threads under #VforVendettaHBO. Gunn, the 59-year-old auteur whose irreverent touch turned Guardians of the Galaxy into a cosmic cash cow and revitalized DC with Creature Commandos and Superman, has long been the architect of the studio’s “Elseworlds” strategy—standalone tales unbound by the mainline DCU canon. Under his and Safran’s stewardship since late 2022, DC has greenlit a mosaic of projects: the gritty Gotham spin-off The Penguin on HBO, the cosmic procedural Lanterns starring Aaron Pierre and Kyle Chandler, and the irreverent Jimmy Olsen series with Tony Yacenda and Dan Perrault as co-showrunners. V for Vendetta slots neatly into this eclectic arsenal, a non-canon gem that allows Gunn to flex his political satire muscles without derailing the interconnected saga kicking off with Superman in July 2025. “We’re not just making superhero stories,” Gunn quipped in a recent podcast appearance, his Missouri drawl laced with mischief. “We’re telling tales that punch you in the gut about power, resistance, and what it means to be free. V’s got that in spades.”

At its core, V for Vendetta is a powder keg of ideas wrapped in a cloak of anarchy. Serialized in the British anthology Warrior from 1982 to 1985 before DC Comics collected it into a 1989 graphic novel, Moore’s script and Lloyd’s stark illustrations paint a nightmarish alternate Britain ravaged by nuclear war and seized by a fascist regime called Norsefire. Enter V: a spectral anarchist in a porkpie hat and grinning Guy Fawkes mask, his voice a velvet blade quoting Shakespeare and Shelley as he orchestrates bombings, hacks broadcasts, and ignites a populist uprising. Nursed back to life in a government lab where he endured torturous experiments, V embodies the paradox of violence as catharsis—his vendetta against the regime’s leaders (a homicidal surgeon, a pedophilic bishop, a media mogul peddling propaganda) a symphony of poetic justice. Through his protégé Evey Hammond, a wide-eyed teen transformed from victim to revolutionary, the story probes themes of identity, surveillance, and the fragility of truth. “Ideas are bulletproof,” V declares in one iconic panel, a mantra that has echoed through Occupy Wall Street protests, Arab Spring rallies, and even January 6th melees, where the mask became a contested symbol of defiance.

The 2005 film, helmed by James McTeigue with the Wachowskis’ script and executive production, amplified this to cinematic fever pitch. Starring Hugo Weaving as the masked maestro and Natalie Portman as a razor-cropped Evey, it grossed $132 million worldwide on a $54 million budget, earning an Oscar nod for costume design and etching the Guy Fawkes visage into pop culture eternity. Portman’s transformation—shaved head and all—became a feminist touchstone, while the film’s climax, with thousands converging on Parliament in a sea of masks, remains a visceral thrill. Yet, Moore disavowed it, as he has every adaptation of his work, lambasting Hollywood’s “corporate” dilutions in a 2011 interview: “They turned my wolf into a sheepdog.” The graphic novel’s queer undertones, anti-fascist nuances, and unflinching critique of Thatcher-era Britain were softened for broader appeal, trading V’s queer romance with a supporting revolutionary for a more chaste mentor-protégé dynamic. Fast-forward to 2025, and HBO’s series promises a return to those raw edges— a serialized format ripe for delving into Norsefire’s labyrinthine bureaucracy, V’s enigmatic backstory, and the moral quagmires of resistance.

Pete Jackson—yes, Pete, not the Lord of the Rings titan—steps up as the scribe tasked with this high-wire act. The British writer, whose miniseries Somewhere Boy snagged a 2023 BAFTA for Best Drama Series, brings a pedigree in intimate, idea-driven tales of trauma and resilience. Somewhere Boy, a wrenching exploration of a family scarred by a cult’s grip, showcases his knack for blending psychological depth with societal satire—qualities tailor-made for V’s world of whispered conspiracies and public spectacles. “Pete gets the quiet fury of ordinary people pushed to the brink,” a production insider shared in a post-announcement briefing. Joining him on the executive producer roster are Gunn and Safran, whose DC Studios banner ensures a glossy polish without the canon constraints; Ben Stephenson of Poison Pen, the production outfit behind HBO’s His Dark Materials; and Leanne Klein of Wall to Wall Media, Warner Bros. Television Studios UK’s powerhouse known for docudramas like The Real Full Monty. No casting rumors yet—no whispers of a Weaving reprisal or Portman cameo—but speculation swirls: could rising Brit stars like Barry Keoghan or Ayo Edebiri don the mask? Or might Gunn tap his Peacemaker alumni for Norsefire’s corrupt cabal?

This HBO incarnation arrives amid a renaissance for Moore adaptations, underscoring DC’s strategy to weaponize its Vertigo imprint—the mature-readers label that birthed V, Sandman, and Preacher. HBO’s 2019 Watchmen, Damon Lindelof’s Emmy-sweeping sequel to Moore and Dave Gibbons’ opus, proved the network’s alchemy for turning dense comics into prestige TV, grossing 15 million viewers for its finale and sparking Tulsa race massacre reckonings. The Penguin, Matt Reeves’ Batman offshoot, shattered records with 6.5 million global viewers in its premiere week, blending operatic crime drama with HBO’s unflinching edge. V for Vendetta could eclipse them both, especially as its themes—fake news via the regime’s “Mouth” mouthpiece, surveillance via the “Eye” and “Ear,” eugenics horrors—mirror our fractured 2025 landscape. From AI deepfakes eroding trust to populist strongmen rallying crowds, the story’s prescience is uncanny. “In a world where truth is the first casualty,” Gunn posted cryptically on Instagram hours after the reveal—a masked emoji over Big Ben—”it’s time to light the fuse.”

Fan reactions? A powder keg of its own. X lit up with 250,000 mentions in the first 24 hours, hashtags like #VendettaHBO and #RememberNovember trending alongside fan art of V clashing with the Joker. Enthusiasts hail it as a “long-overdue expansion,” with one viral thread praising the TV format for unpacking subplots like the Larkhill experiments or the Black Freemen’s plight. Purists, however, echo Moore’s ghost: “Another cash-grab on Alan’s grave,” one Reddit user fumed in a 1,200-upvote post, citing the author’s 1988 decision to reclaim his name from DC editions. Gunn, ever the bridge-builder, addressed the elephant in a Threads AMA: “We honor the source—Pete’s script dives deep into the book’s heart, no shortcuts.” Yet, skeptics point to Watchmen‘s liberties, wondering if HBO will “update” V for TikTok-era activism, perhaps amplifying queer narratives or globalizing Norsefire’s reach.

Beyond the buzz, this series cements Gunn’s reign as DC’s renaissance man. Since taking the reins, he’s orchestrated a slate blending whimsy (Waller) with weight (Paradise Lost), all while helming Superman and Creature Commandos. V for Vendetta underscores his Elseworlds ethos—stories that stand alone but enrich the universe—like The Batman‘s sequels or the forthcoming Clayface body-horror flick. It’s a savvy play for HBO, too, whose DC pipeline (Lanterns, Paradise Lost) positions it as the prestige home for caped crusaders. Wall to Wall’s involvement hints at hybrid docu-elements—perhaps archival footage of 1980s UK riots intercut with dramatizations—lending authenticity to the regime’s rise.

As development barrels forward—pilots greenlit by Q2 2026, per industry scuttlebutt—the air crackles with potential. Will V’s broadcast hijack go viral in augmented reality? Could Evey’s arc explore digital radicalization? One thing’s certain: in Gunn’s hands, this vendetta won’t whisper—it’ll roar. Picture it: Parliament’s dome silhouetted against fireworks, a chorus of masked voices chanting “Voilà!” as credits roll. For a world teetering on tyranny’s edge, HBO’s V for Vendetta isn’t just entertainment; it’s a mirror, a manifesto, a match struck in the dark. Remember, remember: ideas may be bulletproof, but on the small screen, they could be unstoppable.