At my early screening of Superman, writer-director James Gunn gave a short introduction for his highly anticipated superhero movie. While the Guardians of the Galaxy films were about his love for cinema, he said, this one was about his love for comic books. And Superman, for better and for worse, fulfills that statement in every possible way.
Superman is a comic book come to life in every sense of the word: visually bombastic and narratively indulgent to the point of near-overstimulation. From the very first frame of the wildly colorful and tooth-achingly earnest comic book epic, it’s clear that Gunn’s love for Superman is so abundant that it threatens to overflow. It shows in the niche Easter eggs (hypno-glasses! robots!) that are littered throughout the movie. It shows in the alarmingly large ensemble, which includes no less than four other superheroes and a handful of worldbuilding cameos, in addition to the regular Superman supporting players. It shows in the surprising amount of emotional heft that Gunn gives every scene with Krypto, the super-dog that had never previously been depicted on the big screen for fear of being too cheesy a concept. But most importantly, it shows in how nakedly earnest the movie is.
