James Gunn’s Superman Might Be Too Silly to Survive

James Gunn’s Superman is trying to be a fresh start, but to me it already feels like a movie built on borrowed nostalgia and broken assumptions.

And yes, I get why it’s happening. The Snyderverse, for all its visual power and mythic ambition, collapsed under the weight of corporate interference—not creative failure. Batman v Superman was gutted in the editing bay. Justice League was hijacked mid-production and Frankensteined into a quippy mess by Joss Whedon. What should’ve been a singular, operatic trilogy became a cautionary tale in how not to manage a franchise. If Zack Snyder’s Justice League taught us anything, it’s that there was a real, cohesive vision underneath the chaos—one that was bold, emotionally resonant, and wildly underserved by the studio.

So yes, I understand why the DC Universe needed a reset. But what we’re getting in its place? I’m not convinced it’s the right call.

Everything we’ve seen so far about Superman (2025) screams Silver Age throwback. Superman robots. Krypto the Superdog. A tone that veers from grounded to goofy without warning. Lex Luthor, played by Nicholas Hoult, seems to be channeling the energy of a Bond villain with a Reddit addiction. The visuals are bright. The performances look arch. Alan Tudyk is voicing a robot sidekick in the exact cadence he used for K-2SO in Rogue One—and that was cool then, but here it feels like a recycled gimmick in a world already overloaded with forced whimsy.

This isn’t about hating fun. I love absurdity. I grew up on The Three Stooges, Monty Python, Ghostbusters. But when that absurdity is disconnected from the emotional weight of the story—when it feels like it’s there just to pay tribute to the comics you read as a kid—it loses all impact. Gunn clearly has affection for the Silver Age, and I respect that. But nostalgia can’t carry an entire film. It’s not a story engine. It’s a vibe. And vibes don’t last past opening weekend.

Gunn has said this won’t be an origin story. Superman is already established. He lives in a world where Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, and Mister Terrific already exist. That’s great on paper—no more “learning to fly” montages or repetitive coming-of-age arcs. But dropping him into an already bizarre, robot-filled, alien-populated, morally exaggerated universe doesn’t make him relatable. It makes him feel like a wax statue plopped into a Saturday morning cartoon.

And Superman, of all characters, needs relatability. He’s not Batman. He’s not snarky or edgy or broken. He’s good. Earnest. The ultimate immigrant story. And making that character work in the 2020s isn’t easy—but it also doesn’t mean you have to make him silly. Hope doesn’t have to be campy. Strength doesn’t have to be flashy. But everything we’ve seen so far from Superman (2025) seems to conflate sincerity with style. As if putting a brighter filter on things makes them more meaningful.

Even the emotional tone feels scattershot. In the trailer, Clark is screaming in anguish, getting beat down—but he’s also supposed to be indestructible. So are the stakes real? Is he vulnerable? Or is this just performative drama layered over sci-fi noise? Krypto is confirmed to be in the movie. The Superman robots are confirmed. And Tudyk’s robot, in particular, sounds like a walking punchline from a different franchise altogether. These aren’t deep cuts—they’re distractions.

And this is where it gets frustrating. Because I want the movie to succeed. I want to love this version of Superman. I want to be surprised. But the foundation feels off. Instead of concrete laced with truth and vulnerability, it feels like something mixed with nostalgia and good intentions—but not much else. And nostalgia, as we’ve seen time and time again, doesn’t hold under pressure. It cracks. It warps. It fades.

James Gunn is a great writer. He knows how to find humanity in chaos. The Suicide Squad, Guardians, Peacemaker—they’re filled with flawed weirdos you grow to love. But Superman is not an underdog. He’s an icon. And iconography is a very different beast to tame. You can’t just layer old comic book vibes over a character like Clark Kent and expect it to hit the same emotional notes as Rocket Raccoon working through his trauma.

And yeah, maybe part of this is generational. I’m a Xennial. Born in 1982. Raised in the chaos of the ’80s, shaped by stories that were weird and fun but always anchored in something that felt real. That’s why the Christopher Reeve films still work. That’s why Snyder’s Superman resonated with so many people despite the noise. They tried to say something deeper about the character. I’m not sure Gunn’s version is doing that. Right now, it feels like cosplay with a $200 million budget.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope there’s more substance here than the trailers suggest. But if Superman (2025) is really the movie that kicks off the new DCU, it better stand for more than bright colors and robot sidekicks. Because if not, we’re just replacing one flawed era with another—and calling it progress because the palette changed.