Superman

From the very first frame, Superman (2025) makes it clear it hasn’t come to patch up the past, but to redefine a new standard, exactly as director James Gunn promised when he took the reins of the new DC Universe. Unlike Zack Snyder’s weighty, ritualistic approach, this reboot feels light, colorful, and at times irreverent. It’s a punch delivered with a smile: welcoming, but not without impact.

The cinematography is one of the film’s strongest pillars. The way the camera glides with Clark gives us the sensation of floating alongside him. It whispers in our ears, evoking the dreamlike feel of comic books springing to life. This visual language resonates with anyone who grew up with Superman on the page and reclaims the hero’s iconic essence.

At the center of this flight is David Corenswet, donning the red and blue with surprising confidence. He manages to embody a heroic figure who doesn’t come off as infallible. Here, humanity takes center stage. Clark bleeds, questions himself, makes mistakes. This conscious choice to portray vulnerability as a form of strength is bold and welcome, though this extra dose of fragility occasionally disrupts the tone. The film wavers between drama, parody, and lightness that might strike some as unbalanced.

Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane doesn’t need to become a hardboiled reporter to be fierce. Her performance is sharp, witty, and charismatic, offering a chemistry with Corenswet that is both romantic and electric. Nicholas Hoult, as Lex Luthor, strikes a delicate balance between brilliance and decadence. His Luthor is calculating, sensual, politically manipulative—delivered with a cool menace that makes him a formidable foe both intellectually and ideologically.

James Gunn weaves together action and satire. There’s a splash of multiversal antics, an array of meta-humans, and enough Easter eggs to make any geek salivate. Krypto the Superdog wins laughs and applause, though some scenes veer into cartoonish territory that may alienate viewers craving a more grounded narrative.

Despite all that, the film’s playfulness liberates Superman from the solemn pedestal he’s been trapped on. The inclusion of global and national political subplots — media manipulation, technological warfare, and corporate ambition — adds relevant thematic weight. However, these critical elements sometimes get buried beneath the avalanche of characters and subplots.

One of Gunn’s smartest choices is skipping the origin story. Clark has already been Superman for three years when the film begins, a move that respects the audience’s knowledge and accelerates pacing. The payoff is real, but the price is clutter. Characters like Metamorpho and Supergirl feel more like franchise setup than fully formed dramatic players.

A particularly striking scene shows Clark being detained by an armed squad and slammed against a car while imprisoned journalists debate his portrayal in the media. The moment is rich with symbolism and political subtext — power used without cruelty, strength without violence. It’s one of the film’s emotional peaks and exemplifies what Gunn is capable of when he slows down.

Still, the film’s complexity is also its weakness. The shifting tone — between clownish and mythical, between epic and cartoon—can be disorienting. The score, which nods to John Williams, sometimes falls flat, echoing John Murphy’s sonic aesthetics but lacking in memorable melodies.

Superman (2025) has plenty to admire. It’s hopeful, visually ambitious, and dares to present a hero who observes, feels, and suffers. It shows that starting a new universe requires both soul and risk. But it stumbles by overstuffing its cast and struggling to stay consistent in tone. Even so, it breathes new life into the superhero genre and into the legacy of the Man of Steel. It makes us laugh, feel, and reflect—not just about justice, but about the fragile humanity behind the cape.



Superman (2025 / United States)
Direction: James Gunn
Screenplay: James Gunn
Cast: David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, Nathan Fillion, Edi Gathegi, Anthony Carrigan, Isabela Merced
Running Time: 129 min.