James Gunn's reboot, the first Superman film in the new DC Universe’s chapter one series, asks if being good, even when the world’s falling apart, might still count for something
Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat: James Gunn’s Superman, the first film in the new DC Universe (DCU), is not a brooding, slow-burn entertainer, but a deliberate, defiant return to the brighter and more sincere terrain once occupied by Richard Donner’s 1978 classic, and a tonal repudiation of Zack Snyder’s desaturated, ultra-serious Man of Steel (2013). Written and directed by Gunn, best known for Guardians of the Galaxy and The Suicide Squad, the film kicks off the first chapter of the reboot titled ‘Gods and Monsters’.
The second official reboot of the Superman film series, and, crucially, the first film fully produced by DC Studios under Gunn and Peter Safran’s leadership, the meta-awareness that we’re watching not just Superman’s rebirth but DC’s entire creative ecosystem rebuilding itself, is woven into the film’s fabric. It begins, assuming we know the basics; Krypton exploded, Kansas raised him, and Metropolis employed Superman.
Since Donner introduced the world to Christopher Reeve’s twinkly-eyed Superman, the character has seen several reinventions. From the anti-nuke camp of Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987) to Bryan Singer’s retro-fitted nostalgia in Superman Returns (2006), and Snyder’s visually operatic Man of Steel, the franchise, in 2025, has become an exhausted intellectual property. Gunn, the newly minted co-head of DC Studios, comes with a new vision: a Superman who isn’t a god among men, but a man with godlike strength trying his best to extend a helping hand wherever needed.
Clark Kent, sincerely himself
The film opens with a familiar backstory: baby Kal-El sent to Earth from the doomed Krypton, raised by the Kents in Smallville, inspired by a half-corrupted farewell message from his parents. But rather than dwell on the origin myth, Gunn jumps into Superman’s life three years into his Metropolis run, as he juggles journalistic deadlines at the Daily Planet and global responsibility as the most powerful being on Earth.
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Unlike Henry Cavill’s granite-jawed alien messiah or Brandon Routh’s Reeve-channeling nostalgia avatar, David Corenswet’s Clark Kent is a little dorky, a little awkward, and immensely likeable. At around 25 years old, his Kal-El is learning how to be a superhero, and a grown-up. Corenswet, clearly drawing from Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely’s All-Star Superman as well as Christopher Reeve’s calm confidence, creates a version of Clark Kent that’s grounded, soft-spoken, and occasionally overwhelmed.
His Superman tries his best, sometimes fails, and then tries again. There’s real joy in how Corenswet plays the gap between Clark’s physicality and his gentle, awkward personality. Clark is balancing a relationship with Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan), a growing reputation in Metropolis, and complicated new friendships with other metahumans who think he’s naïve.
Brosnahan’s Lois is sharp, direct, and used to being the smartest person in any room, even when that room includes an ‘alien’ who can fly. Her chemistry with Clark isn’t all about sparks flying or copious flirtation. She challenges him and in one of the best scenes in the movie, she records an interview with him, questioning whether Superman has a responsibility to intervene in a war between two fictional countries: Boravia and Jarhanpur.
After stopping an invasion by the US-aligned nation of Boravia into neighbouring Jarhanpur, Superman finds himself in political crosshairs. His decision to intervene raises questions at the highest levels of government. Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult), now an Elon Musk-meets-Jeff Bezos type of tech/media mogul with far-right tendencies, claims he can stop Superman if necessary. He is a suit-and-smile disinformation dealer who manipulates news networks, steers public discourse, and unleashes a digital storm of bots and talking points.
It only gets wilder from there: Luthor invades the Fortress of Solitude, steals a corrupted Kryptonian message that appears to frame Superman as someone who has been asked by his parents to “rule the earth with no mercy”, and releases it to the media. Newscasters brand him a “rabid alien” and accuse him of trampling sovereignty when he halts the Boravian invasion, Superman stands firm. He refuses to bow to fear or revenge, even when Lex Luthor stoops to torturing Krypto — his beloved Superdog — to break him emotionally. Instead of lashing out, he lets compassion be his answer, letting brain beat brawn.
Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane is sharp, direct, and used to being the smartest person in any room, even when that room includes an ‘alien’ who can fly.
Tethered to the intimate
Superman surrenders to authorities to prove his loyalty, only to be handed over to Luthor, who imprisons him in a pocket dimension. What follows is a prison break, a black hole threat, a kaiju battle, a redemption arc for the Metamorpho, and a final act that features Metropolis being split in half. It’s all a lot. Sometimes too much. But what holds it together is Gunn’s confidence.
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The plot may be bonkers, but the emotional throughline — Clark’s refusal to abandon kindness and compassion even when he’s hated — is consistent and affecting. In the finale, after the near-destruction of Metropolis, Clark retreats to the Fortress to heal and watches home videos of his adoptive parents, Martha and Jonathan Kent. Gunn would have us believe that for all the bombast, this Superman is tethered to small, sincere things: kindness, memory, the family that raised him.
Brosnahan’s Lois Lane is quick, sceptical, and emotionally grounded. Her scenes with Clark establish her as an obsessive truth-seeker figuring things, and each other, out. Brosnahan consulted real journalists to essay Lois’s modern persona, and it shows. Nicholas Hoult plays Lex Luthor as a calculating maniac. Inspired by Lex Luthor: Man of Steel and Steve Jobs’ messianic style, Hoult’s version is obsessed with the control of narrative. He’s both chilling and believably smug. Luthor’s girlfriend/assistant Eve Teschmacher (Sara Sampaio) adds a sleazy, noir-ish edge, especially once her allegiances start to fray.
The delightful weirdos
Gunn populates his Superman with a wild menagerie of metahuman allies, giving most of them moments to shine. The Justice Gang — a corporate-sponsored team of second-tier heroes — is classic Gunn. Mister Terrific (Edi Gathegi) brings gravitas as an atheist intellectual turned vigilante. Green Lantern Guy Gardner (Nathan Fillion) is a brash blowhard with a Golden Girls attitude. Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced), reincarnated and grumpy, brings a mix of trauma and sarcasm. They help locate Superman in a community rather than a vacuum. It’s a subtle rebuke to the lone saviour mythos that superhero films often peddle.
Metamorpho (Anthony Carrigan) gets an especially poignant arc: manipulated by Luthor into creating Kryptonite, then turning on him when confronted with the human cost. Skyler Gisondo as Jimmy Olsen is a standout (young, sincere, slightly neurotic) and the film gives him more room to operate than in most versions. Lois and Jimmy work together to clear Superman’s name, while dodging an increasingly fascist Luthor media machine.
From the Svalbard-shot Fortress of Solitude to the retro-futurist Daily Planet offices, the production design draws visual inspiration from Silver Age comics, the 2005–08 All-Star Superman, and the DC Animated Universe, without ever becoming glaringly pastiche-like. The CGI is polished even though at times it becomes showy and soulless.
Making the world a better place
Superman is chaotic. It is tonally weird. It has too many characters. Its finale is slightly bloated. It doesn’t always land its political punches. But it’s the first superhero movie in a long time that seems to believe its title character matters. Gunn treats Superman like a man who’s still learning how to grapple with the responsibility of being a superhero. For all its faults, this might be the most honest version yet. Far from trying to save the genre, the film is preoccupied with why we need a Superhero in the first place.
The reboot, despite being narratively jumpy and occasionally unclear, is deeply sincere. It wears its heart on its sleeve. It knows that audiences today are jaded and that superheroes have become joyless and exhausting. But it also bets, wisely, that somewhere out there, people still want to believe in a man who wants to help the world become a better place.
Amid the flying saucers, black holes, and dimensional imps, Superman remains refreshingly self-aware. In Gaza, in Ukraine (where the war continues to kill hundreds, including women and children) and in polarised democracies, the idea of a Superman who can set things right is still urgent. And Gunn draws on that urgency.
