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James Gunn’s Superman is an uplifting reboot, defined by quiet power and a hero who leads with hope over strength
James Gunn delivers a kind of superhero film many thought Hollywood had forgotten how to make. It’s bold, bright, and self-aware—but not without its kryptonite
The superhero genre has been limping along ever since Avengers: Endgame gave audiences a dopamine overdose and then quietly ghosted them. Meanwhile, the DCEU has largely spent the past few years tripping over its own cape—with Wonder Woman being the rare exception to an otherwise awkward cinematic stumble. So, when Superman, the inaugural film under James Gunn and Peter Safran’s new DC regime, finally arrived, the big question loomed: Would it soar or crash faster than a Zack Snyder edit? Fortunately, James delivers. Superman isn’t just good—it’s the kind of good that reminds you why superhero movies used to matter before they became bloated, brooding PowerPoint presentations in spandex.
In a plot that sounds like it was created by spinning a globe and then making up countries, Superman (David Corenswet) intervenes in a fictional war between Boravia (your standard authoritarian regime) and Jarhanpur (your standard peaceful victims). This puts him squarely in the crosshairs of Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult), a tech billionaire with fascist tendencies and a haircut that screams “trust me, I’m definitely not evil.” As if that weren’t enough, Superman also has to deal with a public relations nightmare, a potential identity crisis, and his own feelings for Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan), who treats their relationship like an unpaid internship at the Daily Planet.
Helping (and occasionally heckling) him along the way is a ragtag trio of misfit heroes known as the Justice Gang—Green Lantern (Nathan Fillion, very much aware he’s in a comic book), Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced, very much not amused), and Mister Terrific (Edi Gathegi, deadpan excellence). Also, there’s a genetically confused monster, a conspiracy-laden social media backlash, and a dog named Krypto who’s doing his best.
The good
James Gunn understands that superhero films don’t have to choose between sincerity and silliness. So he gives us both. David Corenswet’s Superman is a refreshing blend of earnestness and visible confusion, like a substitute teacher handed the wrong syllabus. He’s not the most charismatic Man of Steel we’ve seen, but he leans into the humanity of Clark Kent with enough wide-eyed warmth to make it work. Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane manages to channel peak Monica Geller energy without feeling like a sitcom character lost in the wrong franchise. Their scenes crackle—part romantic drama, part HR dispute. And Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor? Delightfully slimy, with just enough smugness to make you want to punch the screen in a good way.
The Justice Gang is a chaotic delight. Nathan’s Green Lantern is a glorified space cop who seems mildly irritated by everything, including his own teammates. The banter is sharp, the action vibrant, and for once, the humour feels earned rather than shoved in between explosions. James also dabbles in real-world parallels with the Boravia-Jarhanpur conflict, offering geopolitical commentary thinly veiled enough to keep angry YouTubers at bay. One particular monologue where Superman confronts LuthorLex about being called an alien is both moving and pointed—a rare moment of nuance in a genre that often settles for punching the bad guy really hard.
The bad
For a film so eager to break new ground, Superman still can’t resist dragging us through yet another retelling of his backstory. We've seen Krypton explode more times than we've seen the Bat-Signal, and this version adds layers of exposition that feel more obligatory than enlightening. The opening act, bogged down with intertitles and holograms, delays the actual story from kicking in. The supporting cast is full of potential, some characters barely get a look-in. Perry White (Wendell Pierce) appears just long enough to confirm that, yes, the Daily Planet still exists. Jimmy Olsen is here too, involved in a romantic subplot so bizarre it might deserve its own spinoff—or maybe, therapy.
The invented conflict between Boravia and Jarhanpur, clearly meant to echo real-world geopolitics, doesn’t carry much emotional weight because the stakes feel so manufactured. It’s hard to care about countries that exist purely to serve the plot. Also, while the film is visually dynamic, the final act tips into the familiar CGI-heavy chaos we’ve seen countless times—crumbling cities, gravity-defying fights, and lots of glowy things exploding. By the time the dust settles, the emotional beats have to fight for air amid all the noise.
The verdict
Superman is a sharp, self-aware, and surprisingly hopeful reboot that doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel—it just bothers to inflate the tires. James Gunn understands that audiences aren’t asking for gritty reinventions or endless multiverse charts—we just want a superhero who cares, cracks a smile, and occasionally throws a monster into the sun. It’s not perfect. It’s overstuffed, sometimes too fast for its own good, and it ends with the kind of visual mayhem that now feels like superhero movie punctuation. But for all its chaos, Superman delivers something rare: joy. The good kind. The “maybe humanity isn’t doomed after all” kind. And in 2025? That’s a superpower.
