This Superman movie punches fascists

The world's greatest superhero finally gets a film that can imagine a better tomorrow

I’m usually pretty thoughtful when I write about movies, yeah? But I wanna try something, if the court allows. Let me experience the thrill that a YouTuber must feel when they post one of those hyperbolic video reviews. You know. The kind with a thumbnail of some guy’s wide-open maw and wild eyes, overlaid with all-caps text that reads, “THANOS WENT WOKE!”

So, may I? Thanks.

Director James Gunn’s “Superman” is the best Superman movie. It is an easy top-three DC Comics film. It might … might … be the first comic book movie that wants to be a comic book first and a movie second.

Gosh. That felt amazing. Like shotgunning a Sierra Mist.

Alas, I am cursed with more thoughts and a little shame, so let’s take this live-action cartoon very seriously.

“Superman,” in theaters this weekend, doesn’t just make the case for its hero’s relevance. It humiliates what he’s fighting against. Every beat of the story declares fascism and cruelty illegitimate. Secret prisons, genocide, corporate greed—these are things that the bad guys do. And you know what Superman does to bad guys. Mmhmm. He punches them. Man’s been cold-cocking Nazis for almost 90 years.

This film gleefully, earnestly asks: Why stop now?

OK, pause. I don’t mean to imply that “Superman” is self-serious or scolding. Day-Glo colors and big, dumb gags come at the audience like a firehose. Actually, I hesitate to attempt a plot a summary, simply because there’s so much going on. Plenty of folks will find that a flaw.

Yet, more than any comic book movie I can think of—and I’ve seen ’em, brother—“Superman” feels like flipping through the source material. It’s a random issue of “Action Comics” plucked out of a cardboard box. Gunn drops the viewer into this new universe butt first. The film begins with prologue text, perhaps a wink to “Star Wars.” We join our hero on the other side of some perilous cliffhanger, just like an old adventure serial.

This Metropolis is already populated by Kryptonians, Green Lanterns, and weird little guys in pocket universes. There’s no time to explain most of it. Look, Metamorpho’s here! You love Metamorpho. Everyone’s favorite shapeshifting element man. Hey, he’s turning into a hammer, and he’s smashing a tank. Don’t sweat the how or why; there’s so much more yet to see. If you think there are too many characters in “Superman” but never lost sleep over whatever the fuck a Greedo is, I don’t wanna hear it.

You know, your best friend, Metamorpho.

Christopher Reeve? Heroic, but his “Superman” movies put me to sleep. Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent was so handsome that I questioned my sexuality back to straight just so I could watch him and question it a third, gayer time. Our new blue, David Corenswet, has all of that, plus he’s sweet, silly, struggling, and sometimes a stick in the mud. That’s the guy! He has a dog in a cape. C’mon.

I just felt so much watching “Superman.” The kid clutching a stack of four-color pages stapled down the side felt hopeful. The guy who’s lived in the world long enough to see some changes he’d like to make felt weepy. That’s what the cape and the trunks are for, aren’t they? Since 1938, this character’s been about wish fulfillment. Leaping tall buildings, sure—but also taking down wife-beaters, corrupt senators, and Hitler.

Davis Corenswet in “Superman.” (Photo: DC Studios)

Gunn’s “Superman” is a political film for a political character, and I mean that in the broadest sense. It’s certainly not agitprop bankrolled by a major media conglomerate. It’s not fanfic for people with #resist in their Bluesky bios, either. Lois Lane (played by Rachel Brosnahan) doesn’t hit the like button on a post that says “Fuck ICE” and get suspended for violating the Daily Planet’s social media guidelines. Superman doesn’t yell “Free Palestine.”

(Well … well, you’ll just have to watch it.)

Instead, Superman fights an insecurity-driven mogul who scapegoats the ultimate immigrant.

Superman fights a self-serving demagogue.

Superman fights a genocidal regime bent on exterminating a nation of brown people on America’s dime.

Superman fights unaccountable, violent entities that disappear innocent people into secret prisons.

Superman fights nameless soldiers and tech bros who clock in and cheerfully carry out cruelties against their neighbors.

Seeing our greatest pop culture hero oppose these forces, unequivocally and with fire pouring out of his eyes, weakens them in our imaginations. It animates the parts of our mind that can imagine their defeat. It offers a clear-eyed ethic about how to move in the world.

Not to say that Lex Luthor, played by Nicholas Hoult, is merely a bald(er) Musk or a palette-swapped Trump. Gunn’s not doing parody, even if it’s light work to map the film’s antagonists onto our own powerful ghouls. (Anyway, Lex came first.) Hey, if you’re looking for subtlety: I’d suggest not seeing a comic book movie.

Here’s the thing. I don’t think “Superman” is a miraculous lever of social change. This is a summer blockbuster tangled in corporate profit and intellectual property rights. But there’s use in popular art that stares folks in the eye and asks: Do you get it yet?

If millions of people see a movie where fascists, billionaires, and cops destroy everything they touch, and then immigrants, journalists, and working class farmers save the day, hey. Up, up, and away.

One rad thing

Last week, I had a minor surgical procedure on my hand (I could not be more fine) and really leaned into convalescence as a recreational pursuit. Over the course of one bandaged day, I devoured every episode of the new FX/Hulu comedy “Adults.”

Go binge all eight episodes. Laugh along to the exploits of five Gen Z housemates. Bask in the narcotic bliss of thinking, “See! I’m not old yet.” I’m particularly fond of Episode 3, where friend collector Anton (Owen Thiele) accidentally becomes besties with a serial stabber plaguing the neighborhood. (Stream it on Hulu.)

Outbox

Vogue’s July cover profile of Anne Hathaway delivers several phrases that I immediately copy-pasted so I wouldn’t forget to mention them. “Hounds of hell.” “Spooky action.” “Proprioception.”

The magazine linked up with Hathaway to promote director David Lowery’s upcoming A24 film, “Mother Mary.” Hathaway stars as a pop star collaborating with a fashion designer played by Michaela Coel. We’re promised weirdness and songs co-written by Charli XCX. It doesn’t have a release date yet, which pisses me off.

The anecdotes in this story do potentially glamorize a difficult—maybe toxic?—production environment. Normally, I hate that shit, but I love Anne Hathaway, and I trust her judgement.

“It felt like shooting Apocalypse Now,” says Lowery of a pivotal sequence near the end of the film. “At one point Annie broke down and said, ‘I have to apologize, because I think what’s going to come out of me will hurt you.’ And Michaela took her hands and said, ‘I love you, I trust you,’ ” Lowery recalls. “We were in various stages of that for about a week, shooting that scene.”

Various lil’ jewels stud the narrative: Coel and Hathaway going to techno clubs in Cologne, fawning celebrity quotes, the promise of a show-stopping Iris van Herpen dress in the film. Hathaway also talks a lot about learning to open up her body in dance training, which writer Maya Singer parallels nicely with how the actor lives an additive life. It made me want to open up my own life. And my thorax!

Read the story here.

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Over at A Story For Another Day, this rumination on director Gregg Araki’s “Totally Fucked Up”—and the reality of love vs. our notions of it—spoke to me. Read it here.

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My new one-sided enemy is every internet pedestrian who writes like Jean Teasdale and moans about em dashes and A.I., and how you can pry horizontal punctuation marks out of their cold dead hands. Exhausting! However, Jacqueline Novak wrote a playful celebration of the em dash on her Substack, and it’s OK when she does it. Read it here.