For the herculean task of jumpstarting a new comic book cinematic universe, writer-director James Gunn arrives at a surprisingly simple solution: make a comic book movie, in the full sense of the term. Superman is a movie that embraces its source form, silliness and scope included, and quite like the fantastic Spider-Verse films, succeeds exactly because of this choice. The film is also unafraid of Superman himself, allowing his brightness to drive both the cinematography and story while still telling a fully human story that feels, somehow, personally impassioned, about self-definition and the miraculous power of empathy.
The key strength of the script here is the dynamism of the cast: Superman has a full, reciprocal relationship with these characters, as he changes them and they pull him back to himself. Those who are not in flux are usually villains, unable to respond to the love for others Superman personifies. While this may sound cliché, the apathy and anger of the villains here will ring familiar to audiences now, particularly in contemporary politics. And the few uncomplicated paragons of positivity (not to spoil their identities) are still fully living, written and portrayed with heart. One gets the sense that the saints of Superman come from Gunn’s personal experience, giving this movie a sense of authorship and that far too often eludes blockbusters of this scale.
The movie also founds itself on a trio of fully realized love stories for Superman, following him with his parents, Lois Lane, and Krypto the Superdog. The Kent family together provides the highlight and emotional summit of the film, thanks to fantastic dialogue from Gunn and Pruitt Taylor Vince’s weighted performance as Pa Kent. Krypto does not even need to be human to be compelling, serving as a perfect conduit for Superman to show the empathy and love that makes him so heroic. Krypto is also great comedic relief, with the jokes smartly focusing less on the “super” than the “dog” part of his character, with his playfulness and loyalty providing levity that never feels out of place. The romance unfolds from Lois’ perspective, and thanks to this choice, as well as authentic dialogue and excellent chemistry between David Corenswet and Rachel Brosnahan, their love not only feels grounded and human but also reveals who Lois is and how she grows throughout the story. And as for the central rivalry, Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor is a delectable villain, and Hoult gives an excellent performance, going all-in to capture the emotional highs of his unabashedly comic book villain. (All the acting here is strong, with Corenswet deserving special praise for embodying Superman so well and Edi Gathegi practically earning himself a spinoff with his Mr. Terrific.)
Superman’s universe is as colorful as he is, with extremely creative and even quirky character and set designs. This world is full of light, and even when the story enters darkened settings, the shadows only belie a hidden, daring garishness all their own. So much craftsmanship has gone into this blockbuster that Superman’s helper robots are memorably and purposefully conceived. The only facet of the film that lacks style is the score, apart from John Williams’ reused original theme, for which it seems wrong to credit this reboot. Strangely, the music is content to be anonymous background texture, and the Guardians-eque needle drop doesn’t hit the mark, either.
James Gunn’s Superman passes with flying colors, embracing its character wholeheartedly and bringing personality back into superhero franchise filmmaking. It is light without feeling weightless, otherworldly and deeply human—even poignant. It offers points for reflection while providing an escape, and though it is funny, that it is a comic book world is no joke. If this is the future of Gunn’s DC, with movies that are this personal, confident, and comfortable in themselves, then the little brother of comic book franchises will do more than contend with Marvel. It will eclipse its predecessor, because it has far more daring.