If it was writer/director James Gunn’s goal was to distinguish himself from the previous DC era and regime or his previous home at Marvel Studios, then the filmmaker succeeds with his new “Superman,” film, the first of its kind from his new DC Studios era (of which he is the co-CEO of). But differentiating characteristics do not in of themselves guarantee a good movie if they’re not actually distinctive and well-told, a particular problem the director finds himself in with his fifth superhero movie effort in a row—the least successful of the bunch.
The problem with the modern-day superhero movies is that they’re captives of their context, aka the knowledge of everything that’s come before them, for the audience and the filmmakers, and the late-stage superhero epoch that appears to be out quickly running out of heroic juice. This means there is no time for origin stories and cutting straight to the action to supposedly individualize and differentiate themselves. But this sidestepping the origin story gambit, frequently robs the audience of truly knowing the character, what makes them tick and often creates underdeveloped stories and overstuffed plots. And that’s precisely the kryptonite that harms “Superman” beyond repair early on. Attempting to appear original and singular, the film is never actually idiosyncratic, presumes the audience knows everything without explaining much, and moreover, the anthemic emotional notes the movie tries to ascend to never ever soar or safely land with any significant resonance. “Superman” is desperate to look and feel momentous without ever really actually being monumental.
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Gunn’s movie begins in media res, Superman (David Corenswet) has had his ass-kicked for the first time—told in a quick prologue of text— at the hands of the mysterious Ultraman and is licking his wounds with the help of his super dog Krypto (a preposterous character from the Saturday Morning cartoon era that sharper writers wisely tried to retcon out of DC existence at one point) at his Fortress of Solitude (another bygone DC eras trope that feels a little dated and silly today).
However, we quickly learn, Superman has really had his ass handed to him thanks to Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult, playing the character at the 11/10 bratty scale) and his team of A.I. engineers who have studied his fighting patterns for years and then can use predictive combat choreography to beat him at his own game.
Meanwhile, a fictitious tyrannical Middle Eastern/Eastern European country, Boravia, with ties to the U.S., recently attempted an invasion of a smaller, more helpless country, Jarhanpur (shades of Israel and Palestine, right down to the U.S. interest in condoning annexation), and Superman saved the day. But in insinuating himself into a prickly geo-political situation, he’s placed the planet on high alert, including the U.S. government, and General Rick Flag (Frank Grillo), trying to decide how to act.
Social media sentiment is turning against Superman. Soon, Luthor and his influence of billions are lobbying the U.S. to take the Man of Steel off the board for interfering, campaigning to give them his super fighting force instead.
A gigantic chip on his shoulder for being the wealthiest, most powerful man on the planet, but still outshone by Superman, Luthor seethes with childish envy and backdoor channels, manipulates and schemes to turn the world and the American government against the hero.
This conspiratorial deviousness involves a plan to break into Supes’ Fortress of Justice, but not before creating a Kaiju diversion in Metropolis that attracts the interest of government-sanctioned heroes known as the Justice Gang— Green Lantern (Nathon Fillion), Mister Terrific (Edi Gathegi), and Hawkgirl (Isabela Merced).
This is barely the first act; there’s more plot to uncover, including an entire second act of “pocket universes” that includes blackmail, more treachery and the shapeshifting hero Metamorpho (Anthony Carrigan). So if “Superman” already sounds overpacked, well, it is.
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All of this sweaty, clunky and clumsy plotting distracts from the best part of the movie, the relationship between Clark Kent and Lois Lane (a terrific Rachel Brosnahan), their charming dynamic and their demonstrable chemistry; about the only thing the film does right. Both are tremendously well-cast. Too bad about the rest of the movie, which is mostly silly, broad, cartoonish and often hokey when it’s trying to be sincere and moving.
DC has always been naturally goofier than Marvel, and Gunn tries to embrace this element again to peculiarize and personalize. Still, the inane elements—Guy Gardner’s haircut and obnoxious personality, Metamorpho’s weird-ass baby, the rubbery CGI and constant wide-angle lenses, a super dog, winky cameos, etc.—make for a tonally messy movie (not for nothing, “Flash” cinematographer Henry Braham is the photog here, and maybe someone needs to switch this guy’s plasticity filters and lenses down a notch).
Especially as one half of the picture’s true north star heart is incredibly sincere. Gunn posits that being the new cool is not aloof, detached, sarcastic or mean-spirited; being “punk rock,” as Superman says, is sincerity, kindness, and heart-on-sleeve honesty about your emotions, feelings and authentic intentions.
But Gunn never really ties a bow on this theme or knows what to do with it, other than repeating it often. Worse, Superman usually is written as a Peter Quill-like “wtf dude” and then golly, gee whiz in the next (including in a pointless post-credit scene, seemingly built to remind the audience that Superman is mild-mannered, even though the movie has suggested someone much more rougher).
Overflowing and undercooked, “Superman” never really works other than for fanboys who might love to watch DC worldbuilding with superhero supporting characters, villains and cameos that will surely turn up in future films. Some of the sincerity plays and feels emotional, but Gunn makes it all overwrought with an earnestness that feels a little contrived.
James Gunn’s cinematic DNS has always been a product of his personality: his vulgar, irreverent Troma days mixed with the personal enlightenment he’s evolved into in recent years, especially after being fired from Marvel for controversial tweets weaponized against him by the radical rightwing social legions threatened by his vocal sense of online empathy.
This unique mix of sensibilities— humorous offensiveness and unaffected genuineness—worked wonders in his “Guardians Of The Galaxy” trilogy and even DC’s “The Suicide Squad,” but by the time he’s reached “Superman,” the hilarious crudeness that balanced out the syrupy wholesomeness is gone and what the viewer is left chiefly with is saccharine feeling.
“Superman” often feels like many extremes thrown in a big, messy pot. One of those over-the-top elements is the objectionably insufferable Lex Luthor played by an unbearable Nicholas Hoult. The character’s entitlement and jealous aggrieved mien is just excruciating and overdone, so much so that the character ruins the third act (almost as much as Superman/Gunn’s preachy, ineloquent immigrant monologue at the end, which has its heart in the right place, but isn’t exactly written with subtlety).
Gunn tosses in one more big cameo to set up another movie, and at this point, whatever goodwill and patience a moviegoer may have evaporated. Gunn is right about one thing. In this horrible day and age, cynicism should get f*cked and jump off the nearest cliff. But the wholesome, romantically idealistic Superman he’s trying to create is all just vibes and never actually constructed, authentic, convincing or earned. Doing the right thing is never easy in an increasingly complicated world, and “Superman” flirts with this concept—can kindness and empathy exist in an age of bitter, angry division? But Gunn seems to be terminally online and taking his cues from social media, where everything is heightened and toxic, and everyone is so mean to a good Boy Scout. There’s an inkling of an idea here, but it’s never fully realized, seemingly more dashed off in a hasty Twitter thread that’s ultimately more superficial than substantive. “Superman” may leap tall buildings and succeed on most of Gunn’s terms, divergent from Marvel and old DC, inversely punk rock, and overloaded with bright, colorful hopefulness, but it won’t really soar like a bird or a plane for anyone who demands symbolic gestures of optimism are meaningfully made. [C-]
“Superman” opens in theaters July 11 via Warner Bros.