Superman (2025)

It requires metahuman skills to keep rebooting and refreshing a comic book character that was created in the 1930s. Writer-director James Gunn does it with Krypto. When a gasping-for-life Clark Kent/Superman (David Corenswet) is dragged to his secret crystalline home to be revived, Krypto the dog saves not just the superhero from an alien planet but also Gunn’s film. Bow-wow, wag-wag, Krypto gets the applause each time he flies in for a timely rescue. He also gets the laughs with his overenthusiastic greetings, his jumps and his boundless energy. Truly, a doggie version of almost killing with love. Amidst a whole lot of confusing metahumans, some good, some bad, an assortment of black holes and universes that include a pocket universe, and powers that provide sci-fi and CGI experts with lucrative employment, Gunn brings in one more aww-inspiring moment – an alien infant that must be rescued from CGI fire by Superman, good metahuman Mr Terrific (Edi Gathegi) and Krypto. With Krypto slobbering all over the infant, the cuteness quotient shoots up.

Superheroes have one job: they save people. This job profile is fairly uncomplicated. It does not discriminate between the people being saved, as long as they don’t deserve to die. As long as they’re innocent, in one way or the other. American superheroes have forever used this macro profile — of focusing on all of humanity, the universe, the past, the future — as a front for their micro aversions and distinctly apolitical identities. It’s easier to put the ‘petty disputes’ within a planet in perspective when all-time baddies like Thanos and co. threaten mass extinction. At best, our dark friend Batman mined the more systemic problems; politicians have been his adversaries more than once, but he has no time for politics itself. Creators and screenwriters have often shied away from contemporary cracks in favour of big pictures and bigger fish to fry.

I really don’t want to bring up Zack Snyder. His films cause me physical pain. But even I have to admit there’s a grim conviction somewhere in all that humourless, quasi-mythological imagery. His films, which include Man of Steel, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice and Justice League for DC, stand for something, even if I can’t stand them. James Gunn’s Superman stands for nothing except a desire to please. It’s the aesthetic and philosophical opposite of the Snyder Superman films. Underlit greys and browns give way to pleasing whites and blues. There’s a scruffy dog. David Corenswet’s Clark smiles more in his first scene with Lois than Henry Cavill did in three films. There’s a persistent goofiness that I’m sure will drive Snyder acolytes crazy. It’s more watchable, and yet, almost weightless, lacking a sense of definition and purpose.

Clark Kent (David Corenswet) has been leading the dual life of a journalist and Superman for the past three years. To save the world, he is forced to confront Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult), a tech genius and xenophobe, whose sole intention is to destroy Superman because the world must bow down to intellect over physical prowess. Over the years, the superhero universe has become increasingly grim, and you can almost sense James Gunn’s annoyance with this trajectory. He gets Superman’s classic red trunks back for a reason - a reset. His hero radiates optimism, which explains why the caped saviour never gives up, even though he spends most of the movie getting beaten to a pulp. Gunn’s Superman is younger—aware of his power but still discovering his purpose. He turns a new page by stripping the character of its modern trappings and reuniting it with its roots – the comics. Though an alien from Krypton, Superman is a righteous superhero, an ultimate saviour, who must bear the weight of humanity’s survival.