Spoiler Warning – There are certain elements revealed in this review that occur later in the film and are certainly surprising, especially as they are canon-breaking… and goofy.
Superman lands in theaters as a rare test for a franchise, but the kind of test that seems to keep happening to DC. This time, what we have seems to be a broader, and even multi-pronged question mark. Can DC regain the popularity and critical acclaim (or at least critical above-average status) of Nolan/Bale Batman in a post-Snyder world? Director James Gunn seems determined to answer this question by asking another – can DC (and perhaps superhero films generally) manage that by going even further back, for instance, to the sensibilities of ’78s Superman, where anything serious was tempered with a fair amount of camp? When action scenes didn’t have KAPOW! on the screen in only the most literal sense, and Superman would fly around with Lois Lane in one arm and some rigging that was supposed to be the struts of a helicopter in the other… or whatever.
The problem with shifting to a lighter, popcorn take on things is that veering toward silly is hard to wrangle. Superman (78) emphasizes fun, is surprisingly well-directed, and balances what it seems itself to consider rather corny with a bit of gravitas and furious charisma – see Guardians of the Galaxy. Let things more or less run wild though, and you get Superman III… or Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3.
Here, the film is constructed with so much emphasis on delivering themes through a specific filter, with scenes maneuvering things largely through arbitrary decisions, that nothing balances out a sort of “playfulness as ultimate virtue” mindset. Worst of all, depending on your thoughts on franchise cinema and storytelling generally, canon and internal worldbuilding simply have no rules at all, while the idea of suspending disbelief is pushed to extremes.
Both sets of Superman’s parents are taken apart, one for no reason, the other merely for an unnecessary level of villainy to Superman’s immigrant status. His adoptive parents are, rather insultingly, slathered in cliched “farmer” goop until it seems unlikely they’d be left to care for themselves, much less raise a child. His real parents are something approaching sociopathic, and are moreover so calm and matter-of-fact in their instructions to their son that it betrays their place in a society that wouldn’t blink at their, “who’s a good, little conqueror?” ideas.
Meanwhile, Lex Luthor gives (sometimes) the right speeches about his hatred for Superman and other metahumans, who get the adulation that should be his, and his own ego when it comes to brain always winning out over brawn, but the character we’re given is simply insane, which is boring, even if he knows all the right things to say about a character he’s not. Adding to the insult that is Luthor’s presence here, and echoing the thoughts of Action Comics writer Marv Wolfman – “if he could afford all those labs and giant robots he wouldn’t need to rob banks.” – if Luthor had half the resources he had in this movie he could just declare himself King of the Earth, and no one could stop him. Which is also boring.
While David Corenswet and Rachel Brosnahan (as Superman and Lois) give it their all, and do an incredible job, all things considered, trying to recapture the kind of legendary silver screen charm of Reeve and Kidder can’t be constantly at odds with this level of audience-mocking nonsense. When they get a scene alone in an apartment, sparring with each other about ethics and reality, they come very close to launching a series of films based on that alone… but it can’t work here.
Luthor fights Superman by shouting commands to his “weapon” in real time, which is so laughable it takes a minute before your brain can acquiesce to the idea that yes, this is really what’s happening. Two countries are about to go to war and here that means that separated by a ten-dollar fence are, according to the reports on what Luthor sold, billions of dollars worth of war machinery on one side and about 60 unarmed civilians on the other. One of Luthor’s henchmen is The Engineer, a metahuman who Luthor has “filled with nanites”, or whatever, and whose powers are “whatever looks cool right now, no matter how utterly nonsensical.” The list is never-ending and includes pocket universes, Superman’s own powers being whatever gets us out of this scene, and a micro sun that is so pedestrian a Deus ex Machina effort that it is literally a blinding flash taking over the screen followed by said flash saving the day without negative consequences because magic.
The film pounds home a message of immigrants and “others” vs. right-wing bigotry, but it does so insultingly and condescendingly, and believe me, I’m itching to jump on board. It fancies itself shielded by the age-old appeal to just being a roller coaster ride, but roller coasters have to move, shouldn’t call you stupid for the duration, and can’t just throw a flying dog at you if you complain. There’s a sense of wonder this film thinks it can splash over everything, but instead of trying to call out to that child inside, it just demands that you actually be a child.
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