Superman

I dedicate my review to my colleagues of the independent online press

When a director and screenwriter as unique as James Gunn sets out to redefine one of pop culture's most iconic characters, expectations are naturally sky-high. And Superman, his first film at the helm of the DC universe reboot, is nothing less than a statement of intent: a reconfiguration not only of the character, but also of the moral compass he represents in a cinematic landscape saturated by the media and heavy with irony. However, despite flashes of genius and sincerity that shine through his noisy armor, the film seems caught in a tug-of-war between emotional authenticity and industrial obligation. At its best, it inspires genuine wonder and deep sadness. At its worst, it feels like an overly elaborate pitch deck disguised as a movie. Superman's heart still beats as strongly as ever, but its rhythm is frequently interrupted by excessive world-building, tonal zigzags, and a discouraging parallel with the real world, notably Warner Bros. France's treatment of legitimate media—a truth hidden behind the curtain that hurts more than any supervillain on screen.

The film doesn't open with a bang, but with a sigh, contrasting sharply with the thunderous, mythical tone of previous Superman adaptations. We discover David Corenswet as Superman, physically and emotionally wounded, in a frozen no man's land, cared for only by his faithful Kryptonian dog Krypto. There is something deeply human in this opening gesture: a hero far from the spectacle, humiliated, broken. It's not flashy, and that's exactly the point. James Gunn tells us right away that this Superman does not rise above humanity, but sinks into its emotional complexity. David Corenswet, relatively new to roles of this magnitude, brings a subtle and introspective touch to Clark Kent. He's not just a farm boy learning to fly, he's a young man grappling with existential vertigo, trying to reconcile the weight of expectations with the vulnerability of uncertainty. His Superman is unsure of himself, emotionally accessible, a little clumsy and, above all, deeply sincere. This sincerity is undoubtedly the most radical aspect of this film, especially at a time when superheroes too often speak with irony and behave like gods.

Yet this sincerity is constantly undermined, not only in the film's narrative, but also by the very structure of the film. The screenplay, also written by James Gunn, juggles more characters than it can handle, many of whom seem to have crash-landed from another film. While the Justice Gang (not the Justice League) brings an eclectic charm, particularly Edi Gathegi as Mister Terrific, María Gabriela de Faría as the Engineer exudes a techno-villain aura that would be more at home in The Matrix or Alita: Battle Angel. Her presence, while memorable, ends up cluttering an already busy canvas. There's a movie buried somewhere in all this that wants to talk about Superman versus the media, about truth in a world of lies, but the story is so desperate to launch the DC cinematic universe that it forgets to let Superman breathe.

The romance at the heart of the Superman myth, between Clark Kent and Lois Lane, is modernized and enriched with an intellectual touch thanks to Rachel Brosnahan's dynamic performance. Her Lois is not just a damsel in distress; she is quick-witted, skeptical, and adorably impatient with bullshit. She challenges Superman not only as a journalist, but also as a woman trying to navigate her own moral code in a decaying media ecosystem. And yet, even this relationship, which is arguably the emotional heart of the story, is never really allowed to blossom. The film spends more time hinting at their connection than showing it evolve. The result is a promising but underdeveloped dynamic, strong in concept but weak in execution. Unfortunately, this becomes a recurring theme: emotional seeds are sown, but rarely watered.

The film's most poignant metaphor takes the form of typing monkeys—yes, real monkeys employed by Lex Luthor, played by Nicholas Hoult, to flood the digital sphere with fake news. In any other context, this could pass for an original visual gag. But in Superman, it resonates with disturbing relevance in the real world. These digital monkeys don't just represent chaos or humor; they are symbols of our fragile relationship with truth, a visual metaphor for the culture of clickbait, deepfakes, and algorithmic rot. And that, to me, is where Superman hits hardest, in an unexpected way: not in his fights or explosions, but in his denunciation of how easily public figures, even ones as inspiring as Superman, can be manipulated and destroyed by noise masquerading as journalism. For those of us who have dedicated our lives to responsible media, based on expertise and respect for film culture, this portrayal is disturbingly accurate. It's no longer fiction, it's a reflection of reality.

Which brings us inevitably to Warner Bros France and our current feelings. The way Superman criticizes the cynical use of the media contrasts sharply with the company's public relations strategy in France, which has increasingly marginalized the legitimate and established press in favor of influencers and promotional partners with no critical depth. Instead of engaging with platforms that have been covering film history, comic book culture, and critical discourse for decades, like ours, they court fleeting social media trends, prioritizing flashy coverage over meaningful engagement. Indeed, they have embraced the impulsive chaos that Lex Luthor uses in the film. The metaphor is too obvious to ignore. This isn't just a studio ignoring the independent and invested online press, but a cultural institution turning its back on the fundamental values of criticism, insight, and passionate discourse in favor of glossy vacuity. One can't help but think that James Gunn's message about the erosion of journalistic integrity and the social cost of silencing those who speak the truth was aimed precisely at those who are distributing his film.

Yet Superman has its moments. The scene where Superman, after being betrayed, chooses to save a ruined city anyway is one of the most moving in the DC universe, not because it's spectacular, but because it's understated. There are no rousing speeches. No thunderous fanfare. Just a man, wounded and disillusioned, who chooses to do the right thing anyway. This is what makes Superman timeless, and David Corenswet captures it perfectly with a performance that finally allows us to see Superman as someone worthy of support, not because he is invincible, but because he chooses empathy in a world that places no value on it.

Visually, the film is a step above recent DC productions. Henry Braham's cinematography evokes both retro warmth and modern scale, particularly in the sequences set in the Arctic and during Superman's interdimensional imprisonment. The final confrontation may lack emotion, but it's spectacular. The soundtrack by John Murphy and David Fleming strikes a balance between grandeur and melancholy, although it's hard to shake the feeling that no composer will ever be able to crack the code left behind by John Williams.

The film leaves us in a strange position: satisfied by some narrative arcs, frustrated by others, and uncertain about what comes next. It wants to be a new beginning, but it carries the weight of the ten films that came before it. Superman is not a blank slate; it is a work in progress. A noble work. A necessary work. If the film rekindles hope, it also reveals how far we have fallen, whether in the art of storytelling, in media ethics, or in our cultural capacity to believe in symbols. Superman may be back, but the world he flies in, on screen and in reality, has never been more complicated.

Perhaps Superman doesn't want us to applaud blindly. Perhaps he wants us to look more closely, think more deeply, and remember that hope is not a given, but a struggle. A struggle that must be fought not only by superheroes on screen, but also by creators, critics, and storytellers engaged in the real world. In this fight, we remain, despite the monkeys, despite the silence, unshakable. Because, like Superman himself, that's what we were born to do.

Superman
Written and directed by James Gunn
Based on Characters from DC
Produced by Peter Safran, James Gunn
Starring David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, Edi Gathegi, Anthony Carrigan, Nathan Fillion, Isabela Merced
Cinematography: Henry Braham
Edited by William Hoy, Craig Alpert
Music by John Murphy, David Fleming
Production companies: DC Studios, Troll Court Entertainment, The Safran Company
Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures
Release date: July 9, 2025 (France), July 11, 2025 (United States)
Running time: 130 minutes

Seen on July 8, 2025 at Gaumont Disney Village, IMAX Theater, seat F20

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