Let’s get something out of the way right now: that new Superman trailer isn’t the “first full trailer.” That honor already belongs to the so-called “teaser” from December—which ran a generous 2.5 minutes and introduced us to James Gunn’s rebooted DC Universe with all the bells, whistles, and nostalgic fanfare you’d expect. But semantics aside, the trailer that dropped yesterday has reignited a conversation that refuses to die: are we just repainting the past with brighter colors and calling it new?
Because let’s be honest—this thing looks a lot like Man of Steel. And Batman v Superman. And yeah, the colors are less moody, and the tone is lighter (mostly), but once you scratch the surface, the themes are the same. Government oversight. Foreign intervention. Lex Luthor pulling strings behind the scenes. Superman caught between saving the world and being policed by it. Déjà vu, anyone?
And you can see it all over the internet right now. Fans are clocking the visual parallels—Superman framed against the sun, Lex weaponizing alien tech, Lois Lane grilling Clark like she’s hosting Meet the Press. It’s not subtle. Even my buddy MoviesThatMaher—the guy who kicked off the whole #ReleaseTheSnyderCut movement—called it out. He said it feels less like “Let’s try something new” and more like “I can do that better.” Which, for anyone still emotionally invested in the wreckage of the Snyderverse, feels like a backhanded slap.
It’s like being told for years that your favorite Superman was wrong, too dour, too complicated, too mythic—and now, suddenly, we’re seeing that exact same Superman story, just with a sunnier Instagram filter and a different actor. If Man of Steel and Batman v Superman were the cinematic equivalent of heresy, then why is James Gunn walking the same theological path?
It’s the same thing Disney did with The Force Awakens. They needed to bring Star Wars back after the prequels left fans feeling burned and disillusioned. So they wrapped the comfort of A New Hope in shinier visuals and new characters, but made damn sure it hit every beat you remembered. Familiarity sells. Nostalgia reassures. And most importantly—it lowers the stakes. You don’t have to reinvent the wheel when you can just repolish the rims.
But here’s the difference: The Force Awakens knew it was a remix. It leaned into it. Gunn’s Superman is trying to have it both ways. It’s playing like a clean slate while quietly sampling the exact same chords Snyder used, hoping you won’t notice the key change. And look, maybe that’s the smart play. Superman, as a film property, is bruised. He’s had more failed reboots than Batman’s had Batmobiles. The Donner films gave us gold. Then came the decline. Superman III? Trash fire. Superman IV? The less said, the better. Superman Returns tried to recapture the magic and instead felt like watching someone try to dance in a museum—technically impressive, but stiff and lifeless.
Then came Man of Steel. A bold, brooding reinvention that dared to ask “what if Superman was real?” The kind of real that comes with geopolitical consequences and moral ambiguity. It made money. It made noise. It made people mad. And then Batman v Superman doubled down on the deconstruction, only to get gutted by a studio too worried about runtime to realize it had cut out the movie’s actual brain. What we got in theaters was a fragmented mess. The Ultimate Edition? A revelation—but it came too late.
The DCEU was dead on arrival. Its biggest crime wasn’t ambition—it was incoherence. And that incoherence reached its climax in 2023, when WB released four straight flops in a single calendar year. Shazam 2, The Flash, Blue Beetle, Aquaman 2—a slow-motion disaster, each one more ignored than the last. It wasn’t just a franchise in freefall. It was a franchise that knew it was already a ghost.
So now it’s Gunn’s turn at bat. He has to revive Superman—not just the character, but the brand. And to do that, he’s playing it safe. He’s giving you the familiar, wrapped in the language of something fresh. He’s echoing Snyder without saying his name. He’s using the same dramatic tension—godlike power vs. human fear—but with a wink and a hopeful score.
And yeah, it looks good. It feels good. David Corenswet is charming. Rachel Brosnahan is sharp. The cast is stacked. But if we’re going to praise this new Superman for tackling questions of global politics and public fear, then we owe Snyder an apology. Because this is his playbook. Gunn is just running cleaner routes.
None of this is to say the new movie won’t work. It might be great. But let’s not pretend it’s some radically new vision when it’s clearly a retread with a better marketing plan. And if Gunn’s take is really that different, then why does it feel so familiar?
That’s the danger with legacy characters. The moment you try to “fix” them, you’re inevitably wrestling with the ghosts of all the versions that came before. And Superman? That guy’s got a graveyard full of ghosts. Gunn’s job isn’t just to make you believe a man can fly—it’s to make you forget that you’ve seen this flight path before.
Hollywood After Dark 