James Gunn’s Superman (2025) has officially arrived, and subtlety was clearly left behind on Krypton. This is a Superman movie that bursts onto the screen with confidence, color, and chaos, daring audiences to keep up. Whether viewers love it or feel overwhelmed by it, one thing is undeniable: this film refuses to be ignored.
After more than a decade of grim DC storytelling, Gunn pivots hard in the opposite direction. Gone is the somber, joyless mood that once defined the franchise. In its place is something vibrant, eccentric, and unapologetically rooted in comic-book DNA.
Rather than revisiting Superman’s origin story for the umpteenth time, the film assumes you already know the basics. Kal-El is here, he’s established, and the world has been living with superpowered beings for a very long time. Gunn wastes no time explaining rockets, farms, or glowing green rocks.
This version of the DC Universe feels ancient and crowded. Metahumans are woven into history, politics, and culture, and Superman exists within a society that both depends on him and deeply mistrusts him. The result is a setting that feels fully lived-in—sometimes thrilling, sometimes exhausting.
David Corenswet steps into the role of Superman with a performance that balances strength and vulnerability. His Man of Steel is powerful without being distant, confident yet emotionally exposed. There’s an earnestness to him that feels refreshingly sincere.
As Clark Kent, Corenswet dials back the exaggerated clumsiness of earlier portrayals. Instead, his awkwardness feels human and relatable, like someone still trying to figure out where they fit in a world that expects perfection. It’s a quieter take that works surprisingly well.
Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane is sharp, relentless, and fearless. She’s not there to be rescued or sidelined; she’s constantly pushing the story forward. Her chemistry with Corenswet crackles, driven by wit, mutual respect, and just enough tension to keep things interesting.
Their dynamic feels modern without losing what makes the pairing iconic. Lois challenges Superman’s ideals, questions his role in society, and refuses to accept easy answers. Brosnahan’s performance grounds the film whenever it threatens to spin out of control.
Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor is a standout. This isn’t a cartoon mad scientist or a cold corporate villain. Instead, Hoult plays Lex as a hyper-aware narcissist who thrives on attention, influence, and perception.
This Lex doesn’t need to conquer the world—he just needs to control the narrative. He manipulates media, public opinion, and digital outrage with unsettling ease, turning Superman into a lightning rod for fear and resentment. It’s one of the film’s sharpest and most contemporary ideas.
The supporting cast is stacked with DC deep cuts. Nathan Fillion’s Guy Gardner is abrasive, smug, and intentionally irritating—a Green Lantern who feels like a walking headache. His presence adds humor but also tension within the superhero ranks.
Isabela Merced’s Hawkgirl brings a ferocity that contrasts nicely with Superman’s restraint, even if her screen time is limited. Meanwhile, Edi Gathegi’s Mr. Terrific emerges as a quiet scene-stealer, offering intelligence and calm amid the chaos.
Comic fans will immediately recognize the influence of All-Star Superman. Gunn openly embraced the work of Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely, and the movie wears that inspiration proudly. From visual composition to thematic choices, the influence is unmistakable.
That said, this isn’t a straight adaptation. Gunn borrows ideas, moods, and philosophies rather than specific story beats. The result feels like a remix—familiar but unpredictable.
The Fortress of Solitude is a prime example. Instead of a sterile monument, it feels personal and cluttered, packed with artifacts and nods to Superman’s long history. It’s the kind of set fans will dissect frame by frame.
Gunn also draws from stories like Superman for All Seasons, Kingdom Come, and Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?. These influences inform the film’s emotional core rather than its plot mechanics.
At its heart, the movie treats Superman as a symbol rather than a solution. His greatest struggle isn’t physical—it’s ideological. He’s trying to do good in a world that increasingly views goodness with suspicion.
That skepticism is fueled by fear, misinformation, and Luthor’s calculated manipulation. The film mirrors real-world anxieties about media narratives and public outrage, making Superman’s optimism feel radical instead of naive.
The movie doesn’t shy away from political undertones. Superman’s identity as an outsider—an immigrant raised on Earth—becomes central to the story. Gunn frames this aspect with clarity and conviction.
Rather than softening the message, the film leans into it. Superman’s belief in compassion and coexistence is presented as something worth defending, even when it’s mocked or attacked.
Of course, ambition comes at a cost. Superman (2025) is dense—sometimes overwhelmingly so. The film introduces new characters, factions, concepts, and crises at a rapid pace, especially early on.
Some subplots feel underdeveloped, and not every supporting character gets room to breathe. Hawkgirl, in particular, feels like she’s pushed into action before the audience truly knows her.
Still, once the film finds its rhythm, it becomes easier to enjoy the ride. Gunn’s talent for blending humor with spectacle shines through in the action sequences.
The set pieces are energetic and inventive, often punctuated by small, human moments. Superman saving a helpless animal mid-battle or reacting awkwardly to public praise adds warmth and levity.
And then there’s Krypto. The super-dog is chaotic, adorable, and occasionally disruptive—but undeniably fun. His presence perfectly encapsulates the film’s embrace of comic-book absurdity.
Visually, the movie is a feast. The color palette is bold, the costumes are unapologetically bright, and Metropolis finally feels like a city worth protecting.
Audience reactions have been split but passionate. Some hail it as the most faithful cinematic Superman in decades. Others argue it tries to do too much, too fast.
Even critics who take issue with the pacing agree on one thing: this film feels alive. It’s daring, expressive, and emotionally sincere in a genre that often plays it safe.
Ultimately, Superman (2025) revolves around choice. Not what Superman can do—but what he chooses to stand for when the world pushes back.
Gunn’s film suggests that kindness is not weakness, optimism is not ignorance, and doing the right thing still matters—even when it’s unpopular.
This isn’t just another reboot. It’s a declaration of intent. Messy, ambitious, hopeful, and loud, Superman (2025) marks a turning point for DC—and maybe for superhero movies as a whole.
Love it or feel buried by it, one thing is clear: the Man of Steel hasn’t felt this bold—or this busy—in a very long time.
Superman (2025) may not be a perfectly streamlined superhero film, but it is a confident one. Its mix of hope, chaos, and sincerity makes a clear statement about who Superman is meant to be—and why his ideals still matter. If this is the future of DC, it’s a future that’s unafraid to take risks.