In Superman (2025), Clark Kent is already a known figure in Metropolis—a respected journalist by day and the planet’s most powerful protector by night. When he intervenes in a foreign conflict early in the film, the act triggers global unease and a strategic media backlash led by Lex Luthor, who frames Superman as a dangerously unchecked force. Things escalate when Luthor secretly unleashes Ultraman—a genetically engineered doppelgänger designed to mimic Superman’s powers and sabotage his image.
This is the most grounded a guy in a cape has felt in years. And not in the “brooding antihero” way that’s been trending since the early 2000s. No, Superman under James Gunn is different. It’s hopeful without being corny, sincere without slipping into parody, and somehow makes Clark Kent feel like a real person you might actually want to grab a coffee with—if he weren’t, you know, busy saving the planet.
From the opening scenes, there’s a quiet confidence in the storytelling. Gunn knows Superman isn’t compelling because he’s powerful. He’s compelling because he chooses kindness, again and again, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
The humor’s there, but it doesn’t shout. It lands with that dry, observant beat Gunn does so well—more “knowing smile” than laugh-out-loud gag reel. It’s a subtle tonal shift, and a welcome one. You never feel like Superman is the punchline, or the straight man in someone else’s joke. He’s allowed to be earnest, and in 2025, that somehow feels radical.
The humor in Superman lands not with punchlines, but with character. There are no winks at the audience, no awkward meta gags. Instead, the jokes come from the truth of the people on screen—Lois’ sharp banter, Jimmy Olsen’s well-meaning blunders, Clark’s quiet self-awareness. It’s restrained, clever, and confident. It never undercuts the emotional beats, which gives them room to breathe.
Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor is magnetic. He brings a sinister precision to the role—cool, calculating, and always three moves ahead. This isn’t the loud, chaotic villain we’ve seen before. Hoult plays him with eerie control, like a man who’s rehearsed his world domination pitch a thousand times in front of the mirror and means every word. He’s not just evil. He’s believable—and that’s what makes him dangerous.
You can feel the tension every time he shares the screen with Clark, because even without powers, Luthor has a way of making Superman feel small. He’s the kind of villain who makes the audience lean forward, not because he’s terrifying, but because he’s terrifyingly right in his own mind.
Visually, the film strikes a graceful balance between modern energy and golden-age charm. The suit looks iconic, the flying feels tactile, and the action scenes are used sparingly but meaningfully. When things get big, they feel earned. Gunn isn’t trying to overwhelm you with spectacle—he’s drawing you in with story, and the payoff is far more satisfying because of it.
But where Superman really soars is in its emotional storytelling. Gunn doesn’t just show you what Clark can do—he shows you why he does it. And that quiet, consistent moral compass never feels boring. It feels brave.
James Gunn’s Superman is a reminder that optimism can still hit hard. It’s not flashy for the sake of it. It’s not cynical or self-referential. It’s just honest—and that might be the boldest thing of all.
This is a Superman who inspires. Not because he’s perfect, but because he chooses to care, again and again. And in a world full of noise, that kind of story still matters.
A shorter version of this review by Elizabeth Best was originally written for SuperQuickReviews and has been republished here with full permission.
In her spare time, she likes long walks down the makeup aisle and performing in Brisbane theatre. You can follow her adventures on Instagram and TikTok @thebeautypalate.
