What's After the Blog?
Reviews
Superman (2025) Review – Does James Gunn’s Hopeful Reboot Soar or Stumble?
James Gunn’s Superman (2025) mixes corn‑fed idealism, political edge, and canine chaos. We dig into the blockbuster’s performances, themes, visuals, and polarizing reception to decide whether this is the Man of Steel the DCU needs right now.
July 15, 2025
“Golly.”
—Clark Kent, moments after being pummeled through three Metropolis rooftops
Superman (2025) arrives with the weight of a universe on its broad, red‑trunked shoulders: it’s the first chapter of James Gunn’s brand‑new DCU, the heir to nearly half a century of Kryptonian cinema, and the film meant to prove that superhero blockbusters can still feel fun. Does it succeed? Let’s dig into the details, the discourse, and the dog.
Clocking in at a brisk yet packed 2 hours and 9 minutes, Superman (2025) carries a reported production budget of around $225 million—before marketing dollars catapult the figure even higher. The film bowed to a rousing $217 million worldwide opening ($123 million of that stateside), marking the strongest solo‑Superman debut on record and sending a clear signal to studio execs that the DCU’s commercial heartbeat still thumps loudly. Critical consensus, however, is more complex. Rotten Tomatoes currently logs an 85 percent freshness rating (audience approval sits even higher at 95 percent), while Metacritic’s weighted score hovers in the low‑to‑mid 70s—respectable, if not quite euphoric. Those numbers reflect a broader split: for some viewers, Gunn’s wide‑eyed optimism and meta‑humor represent a welcome course‑correction; for others, the movie’s break‑neck pacing and tonal swings feel like another too‑busy superhero cocktail.
Rather than re‑rehash rocket ships and Kansas cornfields, Gunn drops us three years into Superman’s public life. In the opening minutes, we learn he has just averted an armed conflict between a powerful Eastern‑European nation and its weaker Middle‑Eastern neighbor—an unsanctioned feat that earns worldwide admiration and suspicion in equal measure. This single act sets three narrative gears turning. First, tech‑billionaire Lex Luthor, seething with jealousy, launches a full‑spectrum assault on Superman’s credibility and corporeal safety. Second, a quartet of state‑backed metahumans—Green Lantern, Mister Terrific, Hawkgirl, and Metamorpho—arrives on the scene under the tongue‑in‑cheek banner of “The Justice Gang,” both allies and foils depending on the hour. Third, a 24‑hour propaganda blitz erupts, seeding doubts across the globe about whether one alien should ever hold such unilateral sway. These threads intertwine into a heady cocktail of realpolitik and Saturday‑morning serial fun.
David Corenswet’s Clark Kent embodies the wholesome idealism many fans missed during the darker Snyder years. His dialogue is peppered with “gosh” and “golly,” yet Corenswet sidesteps parody by grounding Clark in earnest Midwest humility. Rachel Brosnahan matches him beat for beat: her Lois Lane flirts, investigates, and interrogates, often in the same scene, and one middle‑act face‑off—a genuine journalistic grilling of Superman’s foreign‑policy ethics—crackles with romantic and ideological tension.
Nicholas Hoult, meanwhile, struts through LuthorCorp’s neon corridors as a GQ‑cover oligarch whose swagger barely conceals a festering inferiority complex. His vendetta is personal, political, and profoundly petty; he weaponizes social media smear machines and nanite‑enhanced thugs with equal zeal, convincing half the planet that Superman is an existential threat.
The supporting bench is deep. Nathan Fillion’s bowl‑cut Guy Gardner slices every scene with chaotic bravado, Edi Gathegi’s Mister Terrific delivers both the brains and the deadpan one‑liners, and Isabela Merced’s Hawkgirl brings aerial gravitas. Yet the film’s stealth MVP is Krypto the Superdog—a caped canine whose exuberant rescues and tail‑wagging heroics provide the story’s most poignant moments. When Clark admits, “He isn’t even a good dog, but he’s out there alone and scared,” the line lands with an emotional honesty that clarifies what Superman stands for: no one gets left behind, not even misbehaving mutts.
Superman’s creators, Siegel and Shuster, wrote their 1938 hero as an antifascist champion of the powerless. Gunn embraces that legacy by pitting the Man of Steel against modern disinformation campaigns, militarized detention centers, and swaggering strong‑men who crow about national sovereignty while invading their neighbors. The film asks whether extraordinary power should operate above national borders—or be yoked by them. Yet the script never descends into didactic gloom; Superman’s sunny stubbornness functions as a rebuttal to cynicism, insisting that compassion and accountability can, and must, coexist.
Visually, Gunn leans into comic‑panel boldness: Metropolis glows in hyper‑saturated blues and reds, while the climactic skirmish inside an antiproton river shimmers like liquid aurora. The glossy aesthetic occasionally borders on plastic, but it also reclaims primary‑color pop exuberance. On the sound front, composer John Murphy sprinkles hints of John Williams’ classic theme without leaning on nostalgia too hard. A closing‑credits blast of “Punkrocker” by The Teddybears (feat. Iggy Pop) seals the film’s playful grin.
Within 48 hours of release, think‑pieces sprouted like Kryptonian weeds: garnering everything from a “ripping good yarn” to a “snarky, overstuffed debacle.” Such whiplash underscores how Superman has become a Rorschach test for what modern audiences want from superhero cinema: soaring ideals or gritty realism; comedic banter or solemn myth. The divide is likely to widen as box‑office numbers climb and social‑media debates rage on.
What’s indisputable is impact. Superman (2025) has reignited water‑cooler chatter around the character, pushing both dedicated comic readers and casual moviegoers back to the source material—and straight to our own What’s After the Movie page, where quizzes, cast bios, easter‑egg timelines, and links to outside resources (from Rotten Tomatoes to Fandango) offer deeper dives into the world of the film.
If you believe blockbusters have grown too grim and cynical, Gunn’s take will feel like a sunlit flight across Smallville cornfields—complete with dog hair in the cockpit. The film’s tonal whiplash and narrative sprawl may test patience for viewers craving tight focus, but its beating heart, unabashed sincerity, and timely social commentary make it a big‑screen experience worth seeking out. Catch it in a theater while the crowd is still whooping for Krypto; even the Man of Steel’s bark‑happy sidekick deserves a roar of approval.
What's After the Movie?
Not sure whether to stay after the credits? Find out!
Explore Our Movie Platform
New Movie Releases (2025)
Famous Movie Actors
Top Film Production Studios
Movie Plot Summaries & Endings
Major Movie Awards & Winners
Best Concert Films & Music Documentaries
© 2025 What's After the Movie. All rights reserved.