'Superman' Review: A Bold, Emotional & Epic Rebirth of the 'Man of Steel' From James Gunn

The Cape Returns With a Question

"Three hours ago, Superman was defeated."

That’s the line that opens the film amongst the many 'three-thousand, three-hundred, thirty..' and son. No slow build. No extended origin story. No alien-baby-in-a-cornfield nostalgia. Gunn throws us straight into the aftermath. It’s bold. It’s audacious. And it’s effective. By starting mid-crisis, the film reverses the typical hero arc. We begin with vulnerability, not invincibility.

This single narrative choice sets the tone. This Superman isn't a soaring deity. He's a man, an alien sure, but one trying to shoulder impossible expectations while still remembering to text his mom back. Gunn doesn’t reimagine the character so much as reclaim him. He strips away the iconography and gives us a Clark Kent who’s not just likable but legible. And the result? A superhero movie that dares to be both colossal and personal.

David Corenswet Doesn’t Act Superman. He Understands Him.

When David Corenswet was announced as the next Man of Steel, the internet predictably imploded. Cavill loyalists clung to their nostalgia while skeptics scoffed at his “vintage face.” But within minutes of screen time, Corenswet makes all that noise irrelevant.

This isn’t a cosplay performance. It’s an immersion.

Physically, yes, he’s what central casting dreams are made of. Chiselled features, a square jaw you could land a drone on. But that’s not what makes him great. It’s his stillness. Corenswet emotes with nuance. There’s a quiet ache behind the kindness, a fatigue in his shoulders that says he knows what the world expects of him and how impossible it is to deliver.

As Clark Kent, he doesn’t bumble. He isn’t a caricature. He’s simply normal. Warm, awkward, human. And that contrast makes his transformation into Superman all the more striking. Gunn understands something critical. Strength is meaningless unless it’s weighed down by something real. And Corenswet wears that weight like armor.

Rachel Brosnahan's Lois Lane Deserves Her Own Movie

Let’s talk about Lois.

Rachel Brosnahan redefines the archetype. Gone is the damsel, the “feisty reporter” trope. This Lois is razor-sharp, emotionally layered, and so commanding that you half-expect her to save the world by the final act.

Her chemistry with Clark isn't just believable, it’s earned. Their dynamic isn’t built on flirtatious banter or plot-convenient affection. It’s rooted in mutual respect. Lois sees Clark. Not just the hero. The man. And it makes every shared scene hum with electricity.

More impressively, Brosnahan never lets Lois become orbiting support. She’s a co-lead, not a narrative accessory. She pushes back, questions the system, and, in one searing monologue, dismantles the idea of "truth" in modern journalism with such surgical precision it deserves to be clipped and taught in film schools.

Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor Is Chilling Because He Makes Sense

Casting Nicholas Hoult as Lex Luthor raised a few eyebrows. Could the man who played Beast in X-Men and gave us deranged laughs in The Great pull off DC's most cerebral villain?

Yes. And then some.

Hoult’s Luthor isn’t loud. He doesn’t monologue from helipads or scream about real estate. He’s dangerous because he’s calm. Cold. Clinical. A genius not obsessed with power, but with control. Gunn smartly avoids the cartoonish megalomania and instead gives us a villain who almost makes you nod along.

His disdain for Superman isn’t born of envy. It’s born of philosophical opposition. Luthor sees Superman as an existential cheat code, a disruption to human progress. “If someone can save us from above,” he says chillingly, “why should we save ourselves?”

It’s villainy rooted in ideology. And that’s the most terrifying kind.

The Action Is Epic, But the Emotion Hits Harder

This is where the film flexes its biggest muscles. Not just in sky-cracking action sequences, which are exquisite by the way, but in the emotional architecture that supports them.

Yes, the VFX are seamless. The CGI never feels weightless. Even the 3D, usually a gimmicky afterthought, actually enhances the viewing experience. Every laser beam, explosion, and slow-motion punch is executed with cinematic precision.

But it’s the quieter moments that linger.

There’s one scene in the middle of a climactic battle where Nicholas Hoult's Lex Luthor breaks down. How often do you see the bad guy cry and not for effect or just loudly? Definitely not often. Surrounded by debris, people screaming, chaos all around, he cries. Not in an overwrought sob-fest. But in a way that feels raw, true, and human.

That’s the moment the film transcends its genre. Gunn, in all his genre-savvy brilliance, understands that vulnerability isn’t the enemy of power. It’s its proof.

Humor With Restraint, Stakes With Soul

Let’s be clear. This is still a James Gunn film. That means there’s humor. But unlike the quip-saturated templates of recent Marvel entries, the jokes here don’t hijack the narrative. They accentuate it.

The humor lands, not because it’s punchy, but because it’s earned. Clark’s dad jokes. Lois’s deadpan comebacks. Even a dead-serious Lex getting unintentionally annhilated by a child. It all works because it flows organically from character, not just from script.

But underneath the levity is a story that refuses to let go of its core emotional current. This isn’t an escapist fantasy. It’s a film with stakes. Not just global, but personal. Every explosion has consequence. Every victory costs something.

And that grounding is what elevates Superman above so many of its contemporaries.

Verdict: Superman Soars Again and So Does DC

This film isn’t just about saving the world. It’s about saving Superman. About restoring him not as a relic of pulp nostalgia, but as a character worthy of our times.

James Gunn doesn’t play it safe. He reconfigures the myth, rewrites the tone, and reintroduces Superman with both reverence and rebellion. He doesn't just make us believe a man can fly. He makes us care that he does.

There are, of course, minor missteps. A few side characters feel indulgent. One or two narrative detours could’ve been trimmed. But these are hiccups, not hazards. The storytelling never unravels. The pace never truly drags.

What remains is a powerful, passionate, and deeply poignant reminder of what superhero cinema can be. Not just loud or cool, but moving. And meaningful.

Superman, in this film, isn’t just a symbol of hope. He is hope. In a genre that has increasingly leaned into cynicism, spectacle, or snark, that’s a bold and beautiful thing to be.

So here’s the truth: Superman is back.

Not just in theatres. But in spirit. And if this is how DC begins its next chapter, Then Marvel might want to start taking notes.

Because the Man of Steel isn’t just flying again. He’s leading the way.