Someone to Look Up At (and To)

In 2013, Zack Snyder gave us a Pa Kent who seriously suggested that maybe Superman should just let children die. 

But as repellent as that moral viewpoint was, it was in keeping with the amoral American zeitgeist that has come to a boil in the 21st century.

After all, we once regarded Lord of the Flies as a horror story. But by 2013 we were treating it as comedy on Survivor, a long-running hit “reality” show designed to teach the value of deception, con-artistry and personal betrayal. Children raised on nothing but Hollywood's product might well be forgiven if they thought the two most popular professions in America were “assassin” and “prostitute.”

And in 2013, Americans were only a couple of years away from installing Donald Trump — a man who epitomizes utter indifference to suffering — into the Oval Office.

Superhero comics were born with an inherent optimism, as colorfully costumed exuberant rescue fantasies. It’s no surprise that they would be “out of step” in an era where cynicism, greed and even torture can be celebrated.

Superheroes were essentially super powers plus moral exemplars. The current corrupt culture seems determined to lose the latter, leaving us with a bunch of super-powered biker gangs cutting each other to pieces for our “amusement.” No thanks.

And thankfully, director James Gunn has joined us in that “no thanks.” His Superman 2025 is a bright, shiny answer to nihilism.

I always had every confidence that Gunn could pull this off, because he had already taken an obscure Marvel property that no one cared about — the Guardians of the Galaxy — and infused it with fun, adventure and heart, making it a major financial juggernaut for Marvel. 

Gunn is as truly as masterful a storyteller as Frank Capra, and that’s something Hollywood is woefully short of these days. He understands that Superman is really more about rescue than crimefighting, more about heart than anger.

David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan and Nicholas Hoult are, simply, perfectly cast as Superman, Lois and Luthor. The story rockets right along, comic-booky from the first moments. Yet the complicated moral implications of Superman’s do-gooderdom are considered, and his relationship with Lois has a realistic and appealing vibe. 

Hoult’s frighteningly evil Luthor has understandable, if completely wrong, motives. And Krypto the lovable Superdog is not just cutesy-pie, but made integral to the story.

Over and over again, Superman is placed in extreme, chair-gripping peril, and that’s not something that’s easy for storytellers to do.

“Gunn describes his take as ‘a story about kindness,’ which sounds simple until you remember how little space our culture makes for that word without irony,” wrote Charlene Badasie. “Kindness is only cool in hashtag form, while those with pure intentions are accused of being naïve or performative. But Gunn seems willing to push back against that cynicism by building a story around a man (who just happens to be an alien immigrant) navigating the messy, uncertain work of caring.”

“If Gunn sticks the landing, this version of Superman could reflect who we are becoming – not just what we’ve survived. We’re weary, distrustful of dominance, and starving for connection. We don’t want gods. We want people who fail and keep going. So this Superman might just meet us where we are. Gunn calls him ‘a kind person in a world that thinks kindness is old-fashioned.’ And in a culture built on sarcasm and self-defense, a Superman who chooses kindness anyway might just be the most radical one we’ve seen.”

Gunn underlines the fact that Superman’s fundamental kindness is out of step with our world. But let’s face it, it has been for 87 years. And that’s why, in the hands of the right storyteller, Superman is always relevant.