The pressure on Superman (2025) is ridiculous. Not “can it make money?” pressure. Existential pressure. Studio-defining, franchise-resurrecting, fanbase-dividing pressure. This isn’t just a reboot—this is a desperate Hail Mary pass from a studio that’s spent over a decade crashing every vehicle it’s tried to steer. The DCEU didn’t fizzle out quietly; it imploded in real time, fueled by a decade of executive chaos, uneven storytelling, and a Snyder-led vision that split audiences straight down the middle like Moses parting the Red Sea with a camera crane.
And yet, even now, there are fans clinging to what came before like it’s gospel. They want Henry Cavill back. They want their moody, operatic deconstructions of superheroes who snap necks and sulk in cornfields (hell, I do too!). They do not want James Gunn giving Superman a dog and a smile. But here’s the thing: DC Studios didn’t really have a choice. In their mind they couldn’t fix the DCEU. So they had to burn it down. The problem is, now that they’ve done it, they’ve got to prove the reboot was worth the gasoline.
Which brings us to the box office. The budget on Superman is reportedly around $225 million—closer to $375–$425 million when you tack on marketing. That means it needs to make around $450 million worldwide just to break even, and probably closer to $600–$700 million to make the bean counters feel good about this whole reboot experiment. Anything less than that, and the knives are going to come out fast. Because Superman isn’t just a movie. It’s a goddamn proof of concept.
And now we’ve got the usual suspects online screaming about how the movie needs to make $900 million to be seen as a real success—because that’s what Man of Steel would’ve made “adjusted for inflation.” Look, I’m sorry, but that argument is absolute nonsense. Adjusting for inflation is a fun parlor trick for Oscar season retrospectives. It means nothing in the modern box office reality. You can’t compare 2013 to 2025 like it’s apples to apples. The theatrical market isn’t the same. Streaming exists. Audience behavior changed. Entire distribution models collapsed and rebuilt themselves during a global pandemic. Trying to measure success now using decade-old economic yardsticks is like trying to tune a Tesla with a wrench from a Model T.
But here’s where it gets interesting. The opening weekend projections for Superman are solid—$115 to $135 million domestic, with another $100+ million internationally. That’s a $200+ million global opening, and honestly? That’s damn respectable in 2025, especially with superhero fatigue breathing down everyone’s neck. It might not blow the doors off the box office, but it plants the flag. It says, “This isn’t the old DC anymore.”
Still, that might not be enough to win over the audience that’s still pissed about Cavill getting the boot. The critics are split, too. Most are into the optimistic tone, the lighter touch, the return of a Superman who actually likes people. Others say it feels too safe, too surface-level, not mythic enough. Personally? I thought it worked. I’d still prefer a Man of Steel 2, but Corenswet sold me. He is Superman. And Superman is supposed to inspire people. But again, I’m just one voice. And Warner Bros. isn’t looking for vibes. They’re looking for results.
What people also tend to forget is that the money doesn’t stop flowing once the theatrical run ends. Superman is going to hit digital in a month. Physical media probably drops in the fall. And if Warner Bros. plays their cards right, that’s just phase two of the profitability push. Because make no mistake—this movie is built for merchandise. And the face of that merch campaign? A flying dog named Krypto.
You can already feel it coming (and in some ways it is already here). The plushies. The animated shorts. The cereal box tie-ins. DC wants Krypto to be their Baby Yoda—cute, loyal, endlessly marketable. And honestly, it might work. The character is funny, likable, and kids are going to eat him up. If Krypto hits, Warner Bros. is sitting on a merchandising goldmine. That revenue stream alone could soften the blow of a less-than-blockbuster box office run. And that’s not even counting the collectibles, streaming licensing, or the inevitable spin-offs.
So yeah, the box office matters. But it’s not everything. Not anymore. What matters is momentum. Superman (2025) needs to prove that this new DC Universe is worth sticking around for. That it can tell stories people actually want to see. That it doesn’t need to rely on Batman to sell tickets. And if it pulls that off—even modestly—it might just buy enough goodwill to keep Gunn’s grand plan alive.
Hollywood After Dark 