Superman (2025) Review - A Brighter Tomorrow Begins
There is a moment early in Superman – James Gunn’s bold new launch of the DC Universe – where the familiar strains of John Williams’ immortal march swell under a sunlit sky, and you realize this isn’t just another reboot. It’s a statement of purpose. It’s a reassertion of what a superhero movie can be.
The world didn’t necessarily need another Superman movie. We’ve had boyish charm and awe with Christopher Reeve, steely alien introspection with Henry Cavill, and television’s many takes from George Reeves to Tom Welling to Tyler Hoechlin. But this one dares to ask: What if we believed again – not just in Superman, but in what he stands for?
A Universe in Full Color
What strikes you first isn’t just the colors – it’s the confidence. Gunn directs Superman like he’s been waiting his whole life to do it. From the opening sequence, the film embraces a full-throttle comic book aesthetic, complete with vibrant production design and a kaleidoscope of eccentric characters. It’s the kind of movie where a man in a red cape can fly alongside a space cop and a bird woman without ever breaking the spell.
What could’ve felt overstuffed with Peacemaker, Green Lantern, and Supergirl cameos all announced well in advance and partially designed to tee up the next three entries in the DCU… doesn’t. And that’s because Superman knows where to keep its heart: in the story of Clark Kent.
This version of Clark, played with disarming sincerity by David Corenswet, isn’t a deity trying to pass for human. He is human. Or rather, he’s someone raised by good people to believe that kindness is a strength, not a liability. Gunn's screenplay doesn’t just nod toward empathy as a virtue – it centers it. And in 2025, that feels downright radical.
The Return of Optimism
It would’ve been easy – lazy, even – for Gunn to take potshots at the DCEU films that preceded this new universe. He doesn’t. In terms of its depiction of Superman, this is no scorched-earth reset. Gunn’s Superman feels like a dialogue with the previous era, not a rejection of it. He’s not embarrassed by the material. He embraces the cape, the curl, the catchphrases, and yes, even the camp.
Some audiences will resist this, but Gunn knows that sincerity often gets laughed at before it’s accepted. And he knows that the only way to make Superman matter again is to remind us why he always did: he makes people want to be better.
The action sequences are bombastic and playful, full of clever choreography and visual flair. But they’re not the heart of the film. That lies in its smaller moments – Clark talking with his parents on the farm, Lois Lane pushing past cynicism to recognize the real story, or Superman hovering in the sky, asking for trust instead of demanding it.
A Cast With Character
Corenswet’s Superman is a marvel of restraint. He smiles like someone who means it. He doesn’t posture. It’s a far cry from the tortured demigod of Zack Snyder’s films, and not because it’s “better,” but because it’s different – and necessary. His performance evokes the decency of Reeve without mimicking him, and the moral weight of Cavill without the melancholy.
Rachel Brosnahan’s Lois Lane, meanwhile, is a revelation. She’s whip-smart, tenacious, and grounded, and the chemistry between her and Clark is subtle but undeniable. The film wisely gives her agency beyond being just the love interest; she’s a narrative partner in this new world, not a passenger.
Then there are the supporting players: Nathan Fillion’s Guy Gardner is every bit the obnoxious Green Lantern he’s supposed to be – brash, hilarious, and just short of unbearable. Edi Gathegi’s Mister Terrific keeps his cool throughout and ends up playing one of the most notable supporting roles. And don’t even get me started on Krypto the Superdog. He’s hardly the most obedient dog, but he’s still the goodest boy through and through.
These additions could have overwhelmed the film, turning it into a mere prologue for a shared universe. But Gunn threads the needle. The world feels lived in, not forced. These characters don’t distract from Superman’s story – they orbit it, reflect it, and hint at the ideological tensions to come.
The Power of Belief
At its core, Superman isn’t just a story about a powerful man. It’s about what we choose to value. In a media landscape saturated with ironic distance, cynical antiheroes, and grim dystopias, this movie dares to ask: What if the most rebellious thing we could do right now is believe in kindness?
That’s not to say the film is naive. There are shadows here – questions of trust, of belonging, of how much power is too much. But it answers them not with brute force or nihilism, but with faith in people. And faith in good storytelling.
Because ultimately, Gunn seems to understand what so many modern blockbusters forget: a superhero film isn’t just spectacle. It’s myth. And myths only work if we feel them. If we believe, even for a moment, that a man can fly – and that he’d use that gift to help us.
A New Dawn
By the time the credits roll (and after a fun little post-credits stinger), we haven’t simply watched a launchpad for a new franchise. We’ve witnessed a philosophy. Gunn’s Superman isn’t just a reset – it’s a reclamation. A reclamation of joy, sincerity, and color.
It’s also a reminder that franchises like the DC Universe don’t have to choose between fun and depth, or between world-building and storytelling. They just need vision and heart.
With Peacemaker making his full DCU debut in a month, Lanterns premiering early next year, and Supergirl poised as this film’s direct sequel a year from now, there’s reason to hope that this new DC Universe might just stick the landing where others have stumbled.
Because as this film reminded me, the most punk rock thing any of us can do in 2025 is embrace kindness and positivity.