Film Review: Superman (2025)
As someone who has always placed himself firmly in the Marvel camp – a loyalty that far predates the advent of either the MCU or the DCEU, mind you – the announcement of yet another Superman movie didn’t exactly get my heart racing. But, as I had to continually remind myself, the latest version would be helmed by former Troma Entertainment writer and Marvel Studios golden boy (and certified weirdo) James Gunn and not Zack Snyder, whose laughably grim take on the famous caped hero I always found off-putting at best. If Gunn’s version could find a way to stand in stark contrast to Snyder’s, I thought, it might stand a chance at impressing me.
And impress me it did.
Gunn’s highly anticipated 2025 version of the famed “Man of Steel” is not only the best Superman film to date (sorry Christopher Reeve, we love you but you’ve been bested by 35-plus years of special effects advancements and trial and error myth-making) but also one of the most heartfelt and humanist movies of the year. On top of that, it’s one of the goofiest comic book movies of the last twenty years, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible.
From the opening titles, Gunn bucks decades of filmed Superman tradition by not only forgoing the big guy’s usual first act backstory (alien baby flees dying planet, alien boy raised on farm, alien man goes to big city to become a reporter, etc.), but also introducing us to him just after he’s had his ass royally kicked.
Taking things further, in what I can only assume is a jab at Snyder’s over-the-top bleakness, Gunn has Superman (an equal parts hunky, vulnerable, and comedic David Corenswet) pestered by a super-powered dog and doted on by a small army of overbearing robots (Alan Tudyk, Michael Rooker, Pom Klementieff, and Grace Chan), all of which make for both good comedy and serve as a reminder that we’re getting something wildly different from what we’ve seen before.
But Gunn knows what he’s doing, and he taps into this deliberately “un-Snyder-like” tone with such a sense of wonder and fun that one can’t help but be immediately mesmerized by it. Somehow, Gunn has captured all the ridiculous aspects of DC Comics that have turned me off over the years (namely, their adherence to “-Man” and “-Girl” naming conventions, along with vaguely defined powers and cheesy costumes) and morphed them into such overwhelming positives that I find myself at a loss to find anything at fault with them. I’ve never in my life rooted for heroes like Green Lantern, Mister Terrific, or Hawkgirl (Nathan Fillion, Edi Gathegi, and Isabela Merced, respectively) but with Gunn steering the ship, I can’t wait to see more.
Gunn also manages to cover a lot of ground politically – something that seemed well off radar after a decade of Snyderverse brooding and problematic casting. In 129 minutes, Superman covers and utterly skewers (sometimes with what appears to be powers of foresight) the likes of Elon Musk (Nicholas Hoult’s deliciously envious and spiteful Lex Luthor), the invasion of Ukraine and genocide in Gaza (with Zlatko Burić as a stand-in for Putin/Netanyahu), immigration and Trump’s illegal deportations (featuring plenty of scene stealing by Anthony Carrigan), and the importance of a free and unapologetic press (led by the incomparable Rachel Brosnahan as easily the best, most rounded Lois Lane of all time). And honestly, it’s this last one that gets me the most. How can any member of the real life legacy press watch the fictional Lois Lane do her job (by simply not pandering to wealthy dipshits and reporting the actual news) and not feel ashamed of themselves right now?
Art critiquing life aside, all of Gunn’s politics, madness, and obvious admiration for source material are tied together by heavy doses of absurdist comedy, tongue-in-cheek self-deprecation, stunning visuals, likable characters, and exciting action. Above all, Superman is a film that fights for the little guy with a combination of moxie and the sort of altruism that’s rooted in unashamed kindness over brooding stoicism. Gunn’s heroes are the sort of people who see empathy as a strength, not a weakness and who help others for no other reason than it’s the right thing to do. No wonder Ben Shapiro didn’t like it.
