Several years on, James Gunn’s Superman still feels like the bold opening statement the new DCU needed. Gunn and Peter Safran had the unenviable task of washing away the DCEU’s bad taste while building a bright future, and this film remains the cornerstone of that mission. Superman’s commercial and creative fate carried enormous weight, but Gunn understood that the character did not need another origin story. He needed a confident new beginning—one that could honor Christopher Reeve without retreating into nostalgia. Looking back, the film’s greatest strength is how completely it commits to Superman as a symbol of hope, even when it allows him to fail, doubt himself, and learn.

With that pressure hanging over it, Superman plays as a genuine love letter to the original hero and to superhero cinema itself. Gunn understands the genre and lets his affection burn through every scene, from the opening salvo to the final triumph. The film’s structure is part of its argument: instead of pausing for a familiar Krypton prologue, it drops us into a world where Clark is already Superman, already carrying the emotional and political consequences of being an alien savior. In retrospect, that choice gives the story momentum and lets the character’s actions—not another origin recap—define him.
Gunn’s Superman is a vibrant throwback to the silver age of comics, where heroes could be good without apology and villains could be unmistakably cruel. Its science fiction, action, and human emotion collide in a colorful package filled with hope and movie-magic exuberance. The nostalgia is obvious, but it is purposeful rather than evasive. The film remembers why Superman endured in the first place, then uses that memory to make a case for a more open-hearted future.
The film’s decision to skip a traditional origin becomes even more effective when viewed with the full story in mind. We meet a Superman who has already been working, already living in Metropolis, and already capable of losing. Gunn drops him into the action with a thunderous opening, reveals that his first battle has gone badly, and sends him falling back to Earth before Krypto rescues him. That defeat immediately makes this Superman vulnerable. The movie assumes we know how Kal-El reached Earth, then spends its time examining what it means for him to carry that history into a complicated present.



Krypto’s arrival is more than a cute addition. The super-dog reconnects Superman to the comics and helps establish the film’s playful, affectionate tone. The opening also introduces the Fortress of Solitude while making clear that this is not a story about Superman discovering his powers. It is about an established hero confronting the limits of those powers, the consequences of his choices, and the expectations placed on him by a world that cannot decide whether he is its protector or its threat.
Clark is already a reporter at the Daily Planet, and the newsroom gives the film its human scale. Lois Lane, played by Rachel Brosnahan, is confident and formidable; Jimmy Olsen, played by Skyler Gisondo, receives a fresh and welcoming interpretation; and Wendell Pierce gives Perry White authority, even though the character deserved more screen time. Years later, the Daily Planet material still works because it makes Superman feel embedded in a lived-in world rather than isolated above it.
That world is threatened by Lex Luthor, played by Nicholas Hoult as a skeptical, jealous, and openly hateful megalomaniac. Luthor’s plan is not simply to defeat Superman physically. He wants to reshape public opinion, frame the Man of Steel, and present himself as the world’s savior. The government’s uncertainty gives him room to maneuver: Superman may save lives, but he is still an alien whose intentions many people question. The film’s conflict therefore becomes as much about reputation and trust as it is about superpowers.
The most revealing part of Luthor’s arc is how personal his hatred becomes. He and Superman have never truly met, yet Luthor has made destroying him the mission of his life. His pettiness and rage turn the public campaign against Superman into something more corrosive than a standard villain plot. Luthor wants to replace Superman not only as a symbol, but as the person the world believes it can depend on.


David Corenswet remains one of the film’s biggest victories. Taking on Superman after Christopher Reeve’s defining performance and Henry Cavill’s tenure was daunting, but Corenswet finds the right balance of boy-scout heroism, farm-boy innocence, and confident power. His performance becomes more impressive when the story allows Superman to lose, make mistakes, and own them. This is not an untouchable ideal; it is a hero learning how to remain hopeful when the world refuses to make that easy.
Rachel Brosnahan is equally strong as Lois Lane. She brings intelligence, beauty, confidence, and unapologetic fire to the role. Margot Kidder remains the gold standard for many fans, but Brosnahan makes Lois unmistakably her own. She restores the character’s full spirit after too many screen versions reduced Lois to anger or cynicism, and her performance gives the relationship a lively, contemporary center.
The chemistry between Corenswet and Brosnahan is electric, and it is still clear why Gunn devoted so much attention to their relationship. When Clark and Lois share the screen, the film becomes warmer and more intimate. They are not merely a heroic couple waiting for a future payoff; they are the emotional heartbeat of the story, grounding Superman’s public struggle in a personal connection.
Gunn’s screenplay is packed with clever ideas and refuses to treat canon as a cage. Some changes may challenge hardcore fans, but the film’s confidence makes those choices easy to embrace. The supporting cast is crowded, and most characters receive something meaningful to do, even if Perry White and Ma and Pa Kent are among those who deserved more time. In retrospect, the film’s abundance is both part of its charm and one of its limitations: it feels like the beginning of a universe while still trying to complete a satisfying story of its own.
Mr. Terrific, Hawkgirl, and Guy Gardner/Green Lantern arrive already connected to the future of the DCU. The Justice Gang is uncertain about Superman, but when the crisis arrives, they answer the call and do what heroes do. Edi Gathegi’s Mr. Terrific is the standout, stealing scenes with ease. Their presence expands the film’s world while also reinforcing its central idea: Superman may be the symbol everyone argues about, but heroism is ultimately proven through action.



Luthor’s side includes The Engineer and the mysterious Ultraman. Both make an impression, though the film leaves room for those characters to be developed further. When Ultraman’s identity is revealed, the twist lands as a confirmation of the suspicions the story has been planting. Ma and Pa Kent, played by Neva Howell and Pruitt Taylor Vince, are also excellent whenever they appear, even though they are given too little to do. Their quiet father-and-son moment remains one of the film’s most affecting scenes because it offers emotional stillness amid all the spectacle.
The action set pieces are worth the price of admission, and each confrontation builds toward the aerial climax above Metropolis. The destruction is familiar superhero territory, but here it serves the story’s escalation. Superman battling his enemies through the skies is staged with exhilarating clarity, and the sequence involving laser beams delivers the kind of comic-book shock that makes the film feel enormous. Gunn keeps amplifying the danger until the finale becomes a full-throated expression of Superman’s bravado and resolve.
Gunn understands how to immerse an audience in chaos without making the spectacle exhausting. The choreography leaves us dazzled rather than dizzy, and the visual effects support the film’s heightened comic-book world. Some viewers may object to parts of the CGI, but the stylization works for this story. The mayhem feels deliberately larger than life, and the action’s exuberance is one of the reasons the film remains so rewatchable.
Beneath the action, Superman’s real power is its belief that hope can survive failure. The hero is a beacon of pride, kindness, and unconditional love, but Gunn does not make him perfect. He makes mistakes, acknowledges them, and keeps moving forward. That vulnerability is what separates Corenswet’s version from a distant icon: this Superman can be hurt, can be wrong, and can still choose to help. Years later, that feels like the film’s most important argument.

The score from David Fleming and John Murphy reinforces that argument by blending the old with the new. It honors John Williams’ iconic music without becoming a copy, giving the film a heroic identity of its own. The music lands hardest during the major action and emotional turns, where it connects the film’s modern DCU ambitions to the sense of wonder that made Superman endure.
Several years later, the film’s larger ambition is easier to appreciate. Gunn is clearly trying to stick the landing for a new DCU while returning Superman to the qualities Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster imagined nearly 90 years ago. There are crowded storylines and supporting characters who need more room, but the foundation is sturdy because the movie understands what cannot be compromised: Superman must stand for something better than cynicism.
If it is not broken, do not fix it. Gunn takes that principle seriously, delivering excitement, wonder, and fun while learning from the superhero genre’s recent missteps. Superman is vibrant, colorful, and intoxicating—a comic-book film that embraces its own sincerity. It gives the new DCU a hero who is powerful without being detached, idealistic without being foolish, and human enough to admit when he falls short.
That is why Superman still matters to me. It carries me back to 1978, but it does not leave me there. For more than two hours, it replaces the weight of the real world with the belief that a man can fly and that a hero can embody what is good in humanity. It is not perfect, and its crowded universe-building occasionally shows, but it is perfect in the way that matters most to a lifelong fan: it makes me believe again. Five out of five, still my favorite movie of the year—and still a triumphant first flight for this Superman. Look Up…
