It’s no surprise I’d be doing a Superman (2025) review. I have loved Superman for a very long time, so I knew I’d be diving head-first, reading no reviews beforehand, into this feast. 

A (Not So) Brief History

My history with DC comics stretches back far. I recall rifling through my large wooden toybox one day when I was supposed to be cleaning my room (procrastination ran deep from a very early age). At some point, it was 7 O’clock at night and I was so deep into this toybox that I could see beat up duplicate issues – my dad didn’t need and would give to me – of comics at the bottom of it. Prior to this moment I was satisfied with begging my dad to bring down a comic box so I could go through them and just look at the cover art. I always loved anything that had Lizards or Dinosaurs. Anyway, the one that struck me was an image of Batman, his face covered in rats drowning. 

Something about that made it feel like this wasn’t something I was supposed to be seeing. I was at the ripe old age of 7 and this looked quite adult. That was the issue that got me to pull all of them out of the box, but it was the next two issues that had me even more interested. Two sequential issues of a large muscle man beating the shit out of Batman  – I had no clue who Bane was at the time. THAT is when I noticed the numbering. I feverishly put them in order, splayed across my toy-addled floor were 8 or 9 issues of the Knightfall arc of Batman/Detective Comics. I even started reading some of them, so long as there weren’t what I would call at the time “too many words on the page.” 

It was my biggest foray into comics outside of being obsessed (to a point where I’ve completely destroyed it) with my copy of Strange Tales #88 due to the giant Kaiju fighting one another. It cemented the idea of comics being interesting to me, even if I barely read them. I would call myself a superhero fan for years to come despite rarely ever actually reading comics on the regular. 

I didn’t truly begin reading DC until nearly a year into my newly discovered love of comics. I remember, once again, putting off cleaning my room in high school, this time I was 16 or 17. At that point it was Peter David’s Incredible Hulk that brought me back, and boy did it. But I’ve talked about that before in my review of Outlaw Nights, though with David’s recent passing, I feel I should probably write a separate article celebrating just how deep my love for his work runs. 

Peter David, funnily enough, was also the gateway to deciding to spend more time in DC’s world. It was a combination of Aquaman and Supergirl (as well as Grant Morrison’s run on JLA) that had me start collecting DC regularly. I was still all-in on Marvel, through and through, but it was a twist in DC becoming a big part of my reading.

Moving to Seattle and meeting a few die-hard DC fans were what turned the tide from me being all on-board with Marvel and jumping ship into the DC world. My friend and classmate, Phil Thomas (yes, his name is Phillip Michael Thomas—no, he’s not the guy from Miami Vice), allowed me (more forced me) to read his issues of Batman/Superman as well as a few issues of Power Girl and Supergirl. While I enjoyed them, I wasn’t hooked yet. He then let me read Green Lantern: Rebirth, and that began tipping the scale quite a bit. The art was phenomenal, the writing was interesting. It had everything going for it and I was all about it. 

Then my co-worker and friend at the time gave me an onslaught of comic books: JSA by Geoff Johns, more Green Lantern, Infinite Crisis, 52. I feverishly read them for a week straight and that, my friends, is when I was all about DC. From there I would go back and read Crisis on Infinite Earths, Mark Waid and Geoff Johns’ run on The Flash. I would meagerly attempt to collect the rest of Peter David’s Supergirl, on and on and on.

My comics waned after I left Seattle and came back to Portland, but I never stopped saying I was all about DC. I would attempt to start collecting again but it didn’t finally come back until a couple years into my stint in Georgia. Now I’m back and collecting again!

Talk about Superman, dude…

So when I say I came into this new Superman movie with baggage, I mean it as a compliment. I wasn’t bringing skepticism—I was bringing decades of hope, disappointment, and that stubborn comic fan optimism that this time, they might get it right.

Man of Steel wasn’t dreadful, but it had enough issues my mind couldn’t put to bed. Chief and foremost among them was that the writing didn’t make Cavill feel like Superman. He looked perfect, he had the right mannerisms, build, acting chops, etc. But there was so much missing. Superman wouldn’t ruin someone’s life forever because he got too handsy with a waitress. He wouldn’t jump out of the way when there is a building about to be smashed into, and he certainly would find a way to stop someone from killing a bunch of people. So Snyder’s version was simply out even before the travesty that was BvS.

I went into Superman (2025) cautiously optimistic. Trailers were fun and upbeat and gave me that Superman feeling. After years of being let down or just… tired out by modern superhero movies, there were lingering suspicions. The opening few scenes didn’t exactly calm my nerves, either. The pacing felt rushed—dense in that trying-to-cram-a-universe-down-your-throat way that has sunk plenty of cape flicks in the past decade. But then a scene between Lois and Superman landed, and I felt myself exhale. Not just because it was a well-written exchange, but because it was the first moment the film gave itself—and us—room to breathe.

From there it soared

Let’s get this out of the way: this is a dense movie. There are a lot of characters, a lot of storylines, and a lot of DC lore being introduced or seeded. This thing is jam-packed. And while that could easily have turned into a chaotic mess, Gunn threads the needle better than expected. There’s a confidence to the way it all unfolds—as if he knows exactly how many issues of backstory we’ve all subconsciously absorbed over the years. For some people, that density may feel overwhelming. But for me? It was invigorating. Like being back in the thick of the Infinite Crisis era, flipping from title to title, catching threads of a larger story being woven in real time.

Every character introduced here felt like they were part of a larger whole. Mr. Terrific. Guy Gardner. Hawkgirl. The Engineer. This isn’t just world-building for world-building’s sake—these characters feel like they matter. They’re not background noise. They each carry the weight of future stories, future consequences. And honestly, that’s something I’ve missed. The interconnectivity of comics that doesn’t feel forced—it’s a sprawling ecosystem. A place where legacies are built and passed on.

Of course, there will be viewers who say this is supposed to be a Superman movie, not a backdoor pilot for ten spin-offs. And look, I get it. But I don’t agree. This is a Superman movie. It’s about what he stands for, how he carries the hopes of others, and how his presence inspires. His relationships—with Lois, with humanity, even with his fellow heroes—are the emotional spine of the movie. And Clark’s compassion isn’t just a personal trait. It’s contagious. That’s kind of the whole point.

The cast? Spot-on across the board. There’s no one actor who dominates the film, and that’s actually a strength. They all fit together like gears in a machine. From the hardened charm of Hawkgirl to the sarcastic irritation of Guy Gardner, every performance felt right. There’s a harmony to the ensemble that makes the world feel alive. It’s the kind of casting you’d expect more from a well-oiled TV show three seasons deep—not a blockbuster introducing half a dozen major players.

And let’s take a moment to talk about Lois Lane. Because while Superman’s character defines the moral compass of the film, it’s Lois who grounds it in emotional reality. The actress nails the tone and rhythm of Lois Lane in a way that feels lifted straight from the best pages of the comics. She’s confident without being abrasive, sharp without being cold, and genuinely compassionate without ever losing her edge. More than Margot Kidder, more than any other take I’ve seen on screen—this was the comic book Lois Lane I’ve loved for years. She’s essential to making Superman work as a character, and here, she absolutely does.

The action is solid throughout, but the standout for me was absolutely Mr. Terrific’s big fight. Without spoiling too much, it’s got the fluidity and control of Yondu’s arrow meets the precision of a Swiss watch. It’s inventive, stylish, and—most importantly—character specific. I’ve always thought Mr. Terrific had huge screen potential—with my heavy reading of JSA, where this version came about—and it was deeply satisfying to see that confirmed.

Lex Luthor is another highlight. He’s not the wacky businessman with a wig. He’s not a mustache-twirling mad scientist. He’s something more… grounded isn’t the word, but it’s not not the word, either. He’s more insidious, and this is the most capable he has ever felt on screen. The film leans into Luthor as a manipulative, xenophobic demagogue, and it works a little too well. It feels timely without being preachy, and it gives Superman something vital to push against: not just evil, but fear masquerading as reason.

And yes, we need to talk about Krypto. Gunn’s clearly found his new Baby Groot or King Shark, and I’m not mad about it. The dog is adorable. Also terrifying. Also very, very cool. Every moment he’s on screen is a delight, and if Gunn wants to give him his own animated shorts on Max, I’ll be there Day One. I’ve got no shame in admitting I’m a sucker for superpowered dogs—or non-superpowered dogs, let’s be honest.

So what was wrong with it?

If I had one lingering criticism, it’s that the first act could’ve used a bit more breathing room. I imagine some of that was the cost of a shorter runtime, but it made for a slightly uneven start. That said, once the movie finds its rhythm, it doesn’t let up. The pacing smooths out, and the film becomes something that feels both familiar and new.

That’s it?

Yeah, dude, what do you want me to say? I really liked it!

Final Thoughts

In the end, Superman isn’t trying to be a gritty reinvention or a self-serious epic. It’s a hopeful, weird, busy, emotional love letter to the DC Universe—and to the idea that maybe, just maybe, the age of heroes is ready to start again. It embraces its comic book roots without apology. It’s a movie that believes in goodness, in legacy, in weirdness. That kind of sincerity is as punk rock as it gets.