Superman is a cluttered, chaotic comment on today’s politics, with moments of charm | Canada Voices

Superman

Written and directed by James Gunn

Starring David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, Edi Gathegi, Anthony Carrigan, Nathan Fillion and Isabela Merced

Classification PG; 129 minutes

Opens in theatres July 11

You might have already heard that MAGA types are upset with the new Superman (played superbly by David Corenswet), all because – get this – he’s an immigrant!

Writer and director James Gunn’s embrace of the son of Krypton’s origin story – you know, where a refugee from a decimated planet upholds truth, justice and “the American way” – has right-wing commentators squirming like they too are having a bad reaction to Kryptonite. “We don’t go to the movie theatre to be lectured to and to have somebody throw their ideology on to us,” Donald Trump’s former campaign manager and counsellor Kellyanne Conway cried on a Fox News segment dubbed “Superwoke.” (Okay, I admit, that is kind of funny.)

For his part, Gunn (Guardians of the Galaxy fame) seems to have anticipated this reaction. He pre-emptively included a cheeky scene in his reboot in which it’s revealed the villainous Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult, doing fine as a petulant technocrat) has a team of enslaved monkeys to rage post and stir this very brand of online dissent against the Man of Steel. That’s just one of the many middle-fingers Gunn raises to naysayers of his cluttered, chaotic and fitfully charming new take on Supes, which is far more ideologically and politically engaged than the haters realize.

This movie is about a world in desperate need of saving from ICE raids, the wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and the politicians enabling or benefiting from it all. The problem is, while alluding to the depressing state of things, the gleeful fun Gunn insists on having, with his kitschy aesthetic and silly humour, can feel forced. And it gets downright icky in some moments, such as when the victimization of an immigrant falafel cart owner is capped with a crass punchline.

Gunn of course isn’t the first director to struggle with negotiating the serious with the spectacle, while making Superman’s story a pointed and central theme commenting on the politics of our time. Who could forget Zack Snyder’s messy Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, which had Ben Affleck’s billionaire Bruce Wayne exhibiting some of the same attitudes that would empower Trump. The tension in that movie stemmed from Batman’s resentment toward Superman, who he suspected was a foreign threat responsible for bringing the 9/11-style devastation to Metropolis in the previous movie (Man of Steel). I kind of dug the movie for that, though I was in the minority.

The Snyder films, including the beleaguered Justice League, took a beating for their oppressive tones and over-the-top grandeur. Then Gunn got appointed as co-head of DC studios, seemingly tasked with overhauling the movies to get as far away from the Snyderverse as possible. The difference when it comes this Superman, the flagship do-over, is stark, though not always an improvement.

Edmonton’s favourite son Nathan Fillion is in a Justice League of his own

Snyder’s movies were shamelessly opulent and reverent, as if constantly bowing down to these superheroes who had the presence of tragic Greek gods. Gunn, on the other hand, makes his heroes feel smaller and (for better and for worse) humbled in every overstuffed moment – what with his quippy gags, fluorescent kaijus, army of metahumans and black holes crowding the narrative. The closest thing in this movie to a deity-like figure lording over things is the filmmaker himself, his distinct sensibilities both an asset and liability.

Gunn practically announces his presence with the opening (heavily featured in the trailers), which gestures toward the state of things at DC Studios. Corenswet’s Superman crash lands in Antarctica after losing in a critical smackdown, his body as bruised and folded over as the brand he inhabits.

Some very Gunn-ish touches come to Superman’s rescue. There’s the scene-stealing superpowered dog, Krypto. He drags Superman back to his fortress of (not so) solitude where a crew of droids (one voiced by Gunn regular Michael Rooker) begins the rehabilitation process. They point Superman toward a magnified sun (vitamin D is his super-fuel after all) and show him video of Bradley Cooper (the Guardians of the Galaxy star makes a cameo as Superman’s father, Jor-El).

Then it’s back to the dizzying action in Metropolis, where Gunn doesn’t just borrow from his own Guardians movies, but, in his dumpster diving ways, salvages elements from Superman III and Supergirl. It’s all lightly amusing (and likely expensive) mayhem that will please fans of the director and the genre.

But it’s also the stuff that tends to undermine the movie’s best assets: Corenswet and especially Rachel Brosnahan. They could have been the best Lois and Clark pairing yet, if only the movie gave their chemistry room to breathe without the knick-knacks Gunn tends to throw at the screen.

Corenswet plays Clark with a big heart and a fragile ego, making him the most endearing Superman yet. Meanwhile, Brosnahan is brilliant as Lois, navigating a tricky balance between coddling Clark and taking his naiveté to task.

2025 summer movie preview: Superman, and a dozen other big-screen heroes, to the rescue

In their update to the iconic “Lois Lane interviews Superman” scene (you know, the one where Margot Kidder’s Lois dotingly asks Superman how tall he is), Brosnahan’s Lois forgoes the softball questions. Instead, she grills her boyfriend-turned-subject for flying in the face of U.S. foreign policy and interfering in a war to save a desperate population from being massacred.

It’s a classic battle of the sexes, played out in the minefield between what’s politically correct and what’s the right thing to do. The moment stands out because none of those identifiably Gunn idiosyncrasies intrude on it; unlike in a later scene when Lois has to convincingly dictate her breaking investigative news report – on the world leaders and private benefactors who secretly collude to commit genocide – while she’s goofily piloting a flying saucer.

Rachel Brosnahan, Lois Lane and the “Superwoke” all deserve better.