James Gunn’s Superman arrives with the weight of legacy and expectation pressed upon its caped shoulders, and the unenviable task of trying to course correct and relaunch a cohesive cinematic universe based on the superheroes from DC Comics. Against those formidable odds, it positively soars; with sincerity in its heart and confidence in its craft, Gunn’s take on the Man of Steel is refreshingly clear-eyed, offering a vision that feels classic without being stuck in the past.
Arguably Gunn’s greatest accomplishment is how effortlessly his film re-establishes Superman not as an unreachable icon, but as a relatable, fundamentally decent being trying to navigate a world that often treats decency with suspicion. There’s a warmth and emotional generosity woven through this version of the character, which David Corenswet captures beautifully. His Superman is kind without being naive — okay, maybe a little bit naive — and vulnerable without losing his resolve. The performance feels effortless, balancing the physical gravitas the role demands with an emotional clarity that humanizes the myth. As Clark Kent, he’s grounded and sincere, but never slips into the caricature of bumbling awkwardness that past interpretations have leaned on.
Just as essential to the film’s energy is Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane, whose romantic chemistry with Corenswet is electric. The two actors generate a dynamic that feels lived-in, whether they’re playfully bantering in the Daily Planet newsroom or sharing quiet moments that give the story its emotional core; an early sequence where Lois refuses to compromise her journalistic integrity because she’s interviewing her boyfriend is tremendously well constructed.
On the opposite end of the moral spectrum, Nicholas Hoult delivers a Lex Luthor as compelling as he is contemptible. Eschewing the more flamboyant takes of some previous iterations, Hoult opts for a more insidious brand of villainy, intellectually smug with a cold arrogance that feels ripped from the comic pages (or perhaps from today’s headlines). Arguably the best version of the character ever depicted in a live-action setting, Hoult is terrifying not because he’s unhinged — which he most certainly is — but because he’s calculated, deeply insecure, and based on what we’ve seen from real-life tech moguls in recent years, disturbingly plausible.
Beyond the performances, Superman is a visual feast. Production designer Beth Mickle, with whom Gunn partnered on Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 and The Suicide Squad, gives each location a distinct sense of place, from the towering skyscrapers of Metropolis to the crystalline exterior of the Fortress of Solitude. Far removed from the muted palette of the Snyderverse, the film bursts with color and texture, leaning into a heightened aesthetic that evokes the best (and weirdest) of Silver Age storytelling.
What sets Superman apart most is its refusal to be embarrassed by its own optimism. In an era when irony and moral ambiguity have become the default, Gunn chooses to lean into something far more hopeful. Sure, there are darker currents running beneath the surface, including commentary on the power of disinformation, militarization, and public distrust, but the film’s moral compass remains steadfast. It’s a movie that dares to ask: what if the good guy has no sinister ulterior motive, and really is just trying to do the right thing?
Supporting players round out the ensemble nicely, particularly a trio of costumed allies: Guy Gardner (Nathan Fillion), Mister Terrific (Edi Gathegi), and Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced), who can’t quite agree on the name of their group. Rather than feeling like late-stage additions or brand crossovers, they slot naturally into the world Gunn has built, where metahumans, cosmic threats and rampaging kaiju are far more commonplace than virtually any other comic universe depicted on the big screen. Fillion’s Gardner is a brash, hilariously overconfident foil with a haircut that feels like he must have lost some kind of bet, while Gathegi steals numerous scenes as a stone-faced hero with genius intellect and no patience for anyone’s bullshit. And then, of course, there’s Krypto, the superpowered dog who initially seems like a one-note gag but turns into an unexpected emotional anchor. He’s a delightful wildcard in a movie full of them, and another example of Gunn knowing exactly how to balance tone.
Not every narrative thread is perfectly woven. There are moments when the film feels a touch overstuffed, and one or two supporting arcs (I’m looking at you, Jimmy Olsen) could have used a bit more breathing room. But these are minor stumbles in a movie that never loses sight of its purpose: to entertain and inspire, but more importantly, to reintroduce Superman to a generation that might have forgotten what made him special in the first place.
More than anything, the film works because it leads with its heart. Gunn understands that the character’s power isn’t just in flight or strength, but in compassion and conviction, and a stubborn belief that the world can be a better place, and that we all have a role to play in making it that way. Gunn hasn’t just successfully rebooted a franchise, he’s delivered the best Superman movie in my lifetime, and reminded us why The Big Blue Boy Scout was ever worth believing in to begin with.