★★★

It’s hard not to feel for Henry Cavill on watching James Gunn’s revitalised Superman, freshly rendered, as it is, in the sort of bright hues that have proven anathema to the character since 2013. As other turns attest, Cavill has charisma and charm aplenty but sprawled terribly across a decade of moribund self-indulgence. His last turn, a bum note cameo in Dwayne Johnson puff project Black Adam, was meant to herald production on a long-gestated Man of Steel sequel. Alas, it was but ill conceived clickbait and soon followed by Cavill’s unceremonious shelving. His replacement is the younger, less seasoned but more baby-faced David Corenswet. On this debut alone, we might hope for a more dignified run. Gunn’s Superman is quite notably flawed but at least knows its raison d’etre: to entertain.

The film’s style is familiar. It’s Gunn’s penchant for pulp that powers proceedings, guiding a narrative set snugly at the intersection of crowd pleasing populism and omnipotent geekery. On the former count is broad humour, a cute super-powered dog and mewling alien baby. In the latter lies a half dozen unexpected cameos, winning callbacks to John Williams and Hans Zimmer in a stirring score from Johnny Murphy and David Fleming, and nerdy nods to fan favourite comics and bygone in-jokes. Devotees are hard to please and this review offers no insight as to how Gunn’s Superman will go down with the best versed of fans. As for the masses, likability contends with ensemble overcrowding and a certain aimlessness to the whole. Those less invested in the eight decade long antagony linking Superman with Lex Luther might well find the latter’s motivations somewhat petty.

It is, nonetheless, a judicious call that sees Gunn skip through the Clark Kent origins story, a witty opening sprawl cutting to the chase by cutting through the chaff. Further detail is thread through Gunn’s script with nuance that feels admirable in a film that also includes a punch up to Noah and the Whale’s ‘5 Years Time.’ As we open, Clark Kent is already a bespectacled – they’re hypno-specs, apparently – and unreliable reporter for The Daily Planet. He’s already loved up with Lois Lane and already known the world over as America’s premier caped vigilante. It’s not easy to pull off blue tights and oversized panties but Corenswet nails it.

He’s also, as things begin, just lost a fight for the first time. Three minutes earlier, specifically. It’s neither here nor there who he was fighting – an immediately forgettable foe – but it is notable how refreshingly fallible Corenswet’s Superman proves to be. Certainly so after years of Cavill’s dull impenetrability in the face of heavy punching. Corenswet’s Kryptonian bleeds, bruises and often screws up. He suffers too from insecurity and something of a savour complex. 

What’s more, the film enjoys greater humanity than was ever the case under Zach Snyder’s stewardship, courtesy of an approach to heroism in which every life counts. Corenswet frequently goes out of his way to rescue innocent souls from falling buildings and giant alien feet, even pausing to save a squirrel in one nimble footed set piece. Such moments prove infinitely more impactful than the requisite city-pocalypse that lands with a predictable thud come the final act.

None of this to say that the film is entirely devoid of DC’s now trademark pomposity, albeit in its own particular guise. Take the weight of franchise origination carried by the film. One longs for the days when a superhero film could blockbuster on its own terms without need for broader world building. Superman is chockablock with other so-called ‘metahumans’ and cannot help but set up next year’s Supergirl.   This closing two hours full of superfluous canon additions and overstuffing. 

What’s more, Gunn lands a country mile from unsubtle in his external reference points for the film, with transparent inspiration drawn from only the front pages of current affairs. A conflict in the Middle East? Misinformation? Immigration phobias? Social media bots? All present and correct. Superman has no meaningful comment for any of these matters, instead risking the appearance of smugness in its righteous handling. As Cavill found to his super-peril, walking the walk is never quite enough on its own. Reference is not relevance alone. There’s fun to be had here but going the distance will want for more.

T.S.