Preamble

If there’s one film that awakened me from my longer review-based slumber, then it would have to be a Superman film directed by James Gunn. He’s a filmmaker that I’ve enjoyed writing about over the year despite my misgivings with some, if not all, of his work. So, without further ado, I shall not leave you in suspense. Have you seen Superman this weekend? Let me know in the comments below.

Review

At this point, every new James Gunn movie feels like a referendum on the man’s work. For all his cult movie sensibility and Troma roots, I’m often left feeling quite emotionally distant from most of his output (courtesy of a mixture of sentimentality and irreverence). So, an inquisitive eyebrow was raised when he decided to tackle Superman, who arguably is one of the most wholesome characters in all of comics. The results are fascinating, if not a little scattered. Gunn’s 2025 interpretation of the Man of Steel throws a lot at the wall, but most of it sticks with a touching and thrilling sense of play that feels refreshing.

The newest Superman feature depicts the title character 3 years into his role as Metropolis’ protector. After experiencing his first defeat at the hands of another meta-human (superpowered beings) and getting involved in an international incident, Superman must come to terms with his role as a superhero, as mounting pressure comes from both his personal and costumed life.

The most commendable aspect of this newest incarnation is that it emphasises the “Man” in Superman. Part of this comes from the comic inspirations (mainly in the form of Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely’s All-Star Superman). The comic arguably marks Superman at his most wacky, combining many Silver Age ideas with a commendable sense of pathos through the character’s terminal plight. 

Gunn takes this heart and goofiness as a mantra for his incarnation as he stuffs the movie (to near breaking point at times) with a lot of Silver Age material. Elements such as Krypto, a screeching Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced) and Guy Gardner (Nathan Fillion) exist without ceremony or buildup. Instead, they’re staples that permeate the world. In this way, Gunn’s sensibility reminded me a lot of George Lucas’ world-building in the Prequel Trilogy, whereby the excitement came from what visuals were just around the corner.

Gunn juxtaposes with some quite disciplined filmmaking. Even in his lesser efforts, I’ve appreciated how the director utilizes Mise-en-scène. In Superman, he uses the technique to punctuate his point about superheroes, insofar as they’re inherently unglamorous and fleeting. This occurs in the scene where Lois (Rachel Brosnahan) and Clark (David Corenswet) have an intimate conversation, set against the backdrop of the Justice Gang taking on a colourful threat. Medium shots and close-ups of the couple play against a carefully projected image that features a maelstrom of colour from an alien threat that emits a purple beam of light. At once, it’s postmodern in its portrayal of how disengaged audiences have become from the skybeam threat in comic book movies. It also illustrates how much Gunn values the emotions and intimacy we share, as Lois and Clark strive to mend the cracks in their relationship.

I also appreciated the operatic use of close-ups, whether it’s an incandescent Lex Luthor (in the third act) or the moment where Lois looks back and sees Metamorpho (Anthony Carrigan) for the first time. The moment is uncanny and deeply human, reminding me of the grace notes of empathy displayed in Gunn’s first feature, Slither, where Elizabeth Banks’ character stared at her husband (in his monstrous new guise). Moments like this moved me, along with Lois seeing Clark’s childhood bedroom, as she reflects on the life he had before her. And the editing makes some savage cuts that reminded me of panel transitions. The boldest being when a character is dropped in the third act, and it cuts to fizzy tablet being dropped into a water bottle.

On the page, Superman has a lot of ambition, including exploring how the story of the character has always been an immigrant one, which plays into modern ideas of birtherism that parallels Trump’s questioning of Obama’s heritage. At the same time, there’s a new wrinkle of how Clark keeps his adopted parents at arm’s length in favour of his Kryptonian birth parents, whom he credits as the reason for his existence as Superman. This is compounded by Superman’s place in a brewing foreign war. All these elements are excellent, but they’re never given the finesse to be explored meaningfully, so they drift either as awkward ideas that are swept under the rug (at worst) or represent half-baked musings (at best).

This is a shame, as the actors can only lift the screenplay up so much. David Corenswet makes for a towering Man of Steel, playing the character with the self-assurance of an unyielding football manager. Rachel Brosnahan is a formidable presence as Lois, who has an ear and drive for a good story. Nicolas Hoult is relatable and obsessive as Lex Luthor, who holds a profound hatred for the Man of Steel. But Edi Gathegi steals the show as Mister Terrific, whose deadpan delivery and dry wit encapsulate Gunn’s ethos of superheroes in this film. They may be superficially extraordinary, but they can still be absent-minded and all too human in their mundane struggles.