Superman (2025) Review - James Gunn’s Man of Steel Swoops In to Save the DCU

After seeing James Gunn’s interpretation of Superman, I am glad to say good riddance to Zack Snyder’s reign of dark, hard-to-see, gritty “realistic” movies. For a long time, the Snyderverse seemed to be the only hope for DC to break into the mainstream, but they always fell short. The issue with Snyder’s films was the fact that they were always so grim and gloomy compared to Marvel’s free-spirited, comedic, action-filled fun (and star power). Sure, the point may have been to show how this world is “dark,” but who wants to see a superhero movie like that? Superheroes were meant to be stories of fantasy, escapism, and aspiration.

Gunn dives headfirst into embracing the science-fiction, fantasy world that Superman inhabits. Creating an otherworld filled with vibrant colors, a slight 60’s aesthetic, and regular alien invasions that have to be stopped by the Justice Gang (the Justice League still in its startup era, complete with scattered furniture and a single computer in the Hall of Justice). At any moment of the film, you could pause, and it would look like a panel from a comic book. Practical effects and CGI alike are tools used to create visual works of art that bring the Silver Age of Superman comics to the silver screen. Superheroes are not forced into our world, but we are immersed in the fantastical world of Metropolis, letting us know that this is a movie that is ultimately meant to be fun while paying homage to the source material. 

When the trailer showing Clark Kent/Superman’s (David Corenswet) interview with Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) was first released, there were a few commentators quick to point out the way Corenswet alters his cadence and body language when going from Clark Kent to Superman was a similar choice that Christopher Reeve made during his iconic run in the ‘70s. He sits up straighter, his voice is deeper, and he generally looks more confident than Clark Kent, but instead of simply serving as a cover for Superman, Corenswet plays them as one and the same.

What won me over right away was the fact that we open with a brief textual exposition, immediately invoking the feeling of flipping through a comic book or

graphic novel, even down to the font, which was delightfully bright and bold while still complementing the snowy landscape where we open the film. Colors are much more saturated, allowing for everything to stand out and literally light up the screen. Even in scenes that take place at night or in dimly lit settings, there is constantly a light source that illuminates the actors and highlights the colors that they are wearing.

Costume designer Judiana Makovsky leans into the campiness that has always been inherent in the design of superhero costumes. The Superman suit is a refreshing break from the trend of superhero costumes always needing to look like a weird combination of military-grade uniforms and Nike sportswear. Instead of darkening the blue and red color scheme of the suit, each part is highlighted (but not too much) in a way that immediately pulls your attention to Corenswet every time he enters a scene. The costume leans away from trying to appear smooth by adding some texture as well. There are visible panels and geometric seams on the suit, which give it a sci-fi appearance but don’t appear to be made of anything overwhelmingly solid or hardy like Marvel supersuits, and the cape looks curtain-like in the way that it billows in the wind as Superman takes flight, creating a cool flourish. 

It’s also nice to see superhero costumes that aren’t ridiculously right. It adds up to a practical look in the sense that these costumes appear lived-in, resulting in these heroes looking more natural. This aesthetic continues in the costumes of the Justice Gang as well. Guy Gardner/Green Lantern (Nathan Fillion), Michael Holt/Mister Terrific (Edi Gathegi), and Kendra Saunders/Hawkgirl’s (Isabela Merced) outfits similarly appear very tangible, almost animated in the best way possible. Lois Lane is one of the few characters who mostly dresses in darker colors such as blacks, browns, and earth tones, which makes sense given her roots as a “punk rock” kid. It’s also a great contrast to the brighter color scheme of Clark Kent/Superman.

Moving away from costumes, the cinematography deviates from what is typical of action movies. Rather than constant hard cuts between characters during fight scenes, the camera actively moves around either in a 360-degree motion or from the perspective of another character. The best use of this dynamic camera work comes when Mister Terrific and Lois venture to rescue Superman from the pocket universe where Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult) is holding him prisoner. Terrific keeps Lois safe in a force field while he fights off soldiers attempting to keep them from accessing the portal to the pocket universe. Instead of a rapid-fire series of quick cuts at various angles showing Terrific kicking and punching bad guys inexplicably coming at him one at a time, we are placed in the position of Lois herself. Throughout the whole ordeal, we observe Terrific from a distance, but by staying inside the force field, we are immersed in the center of the action. 

Identity is a major theme of the movie, but instead of a push-pull between Clark Kent and Superman, it’s between Clark’s identity as a human v. alien. At the very beginning of the film, when Superman recovers from injuries in the Fortress of Solitude, Superman Robot #4 (Alan Tudyk) requests that the message from his Kryptonian parents play to soothe him as they assess the extent of his injuries. The message is delivered in Clark’s native Kryptonian language (because why would an alien race be speaking English in the first place?), which he translates to himself as he is carried to a stretcher. The message starts to glitch towards the end, which Clark explains is due to it being damaged in his ship upon arriving to Earth.

At first, the message appears to be a last farewell from loving parents reluctantly sending away their only son to another planet in hopes of a better life, but after being stolen by Luthor and translated by linguists, the message becomes something much darker. It turns out that Clark’s biological parents sent him to Earth because they viewed the inhabitants as “simple” and would therefore be easy to rule over, his father encouraging him to do so “without mercy.” His mother even urges him to “take as many wives as [he] can” so that he could repopulate the Earth with a new generation of Kryptonians.

When Clark hears this message, he is still wearing his suit and presenting himself as

Superman, but once he looks around and sees the looks of fear, betrayal, and disgust on people’s faces, everything falls apart. In that moment, he is no longer Superman nor Clark Kent, but he feels himself being labelled and reduced to an alien sent to destroy Earth rather than protect it. Corenswet channels Lena Headey during her famous Walk of Shame in “Game of Thrones,” staring straight ahead as the angry crowd surrounds him. His suit is still covered in dust and ash from an earlier battle with a kaiju unleashed by Luthor to distract him. Superman never acknowledges the crowd, even as one person throws a metal can at his head, quietly walking into the lobby of a building before allowing himself to feel the weight of this revelation.

The film frequently plays with blurring the lines between Superman and Clark Kent, the divide becoming nonexistent during his interview with Lois. During Lois’s questioning, we see that Clark/Superman is imperfect; He grows frustrated when being confronted with the recklessness of his diplomatic interference, he tries to come up with punchy soundbytes, and he tries to turn some questions back on Lois. But for all his flaws, he genuinely wants to do good for the planet he has come to know as home. 

Another standout performance of the film that is not nearly spoken of enough is that of Nicholas Hoult’s chilling yet grounded interpretation of Superman’s arch nemesis. Hoult is no stranger to taking on dark or villainous roles, from the damn near sociopathic Tony Stonem in “Skins” to fellow rich asshole Tyler in “The Menu.” Hoult’s Luther hides behind his money and walks through danger without a care in the world. When walking into the Fortress of Solitude, he doesn’t flinch even as sharp debris flies in his direction while the Engineer (Maria Gabriela de Faria) attacks the Superman Robots. 

However, fitting with the rest of the movie, Hoult still maintains a sense of humor. After taking Krypto hostage, Superman angrily bursts into his office, interrupting a meeting and ripping the door off its hinges in the process. Luthor is hilariously unbothered, simply taking another sip of coffee while Superman flips his desk over and his girlfriend Eve (Sara Sampaio) films the disastrous confrontation on her phone. 

On the other end of the spectrum, Luthor is the epitome of terrifying indifference. In the film’s darkest scene, Luthor loads a pistol with a single bullet and engages in a scarily fast-paced game of Russian Roulette with a pro-Superman civilian as he questions Superman about his true intention for coming to Earth. With Superman weakened from Kryptonite exposure, Luthor heartlessly shoots the man in the head without a second thought. It’s no question that Lex Luthor is meant to be a stand-in for the tech billionaires of today who endlessly pursue wealth, power, and prestige by profiting off of warfare, controlling the media, and unnecessary involvement with government powers while disregarding the ways that they are putting innocent lives at risk. 

Hoult has a talent for finding the emotional core of even the most evil characters, and Luthor’s is his deep-seated insecurity, which he openly admits to feeling at all times. He wants to be recognized for his intellect like Einstein and Tesla before him, while resenting Superman because he feels as though it is unfair that he was born with power,s while Luthor had to find ways to make his own. Unfortunately for Luthor, as soon as his involvement in international conflict is revealed, everything he has built crumbles around him. As he watches every news station report on his illicit activities, Hoult’s bright blue eyes tear up, and the supervillain Lex Luthor is reduced to a sad little man.

I don’t say this often, but this is a superhero film that is practically perfect in many ways. Most of all, it does what many other similar films have failed to do: genuinely inspire hope. The scene that drives this point home is one where Superman is absent. The people of Jarhanpur are on the brink of war, and a group of children is seen putting something together. As soldiers attempt to scatter the crowd, the children hoist up a flag with Superman’s “S” painted on and begin calling for him. The adults begin to join in, the call becoming less of a cry for help and more of a chant showing their refusal to give up hope. 

Superman is not and should not just be viewed as a vehicle to launch an action movie career, but he is meant to show the ways in which we can continue to persevere and do good in dark times when everything around us seems to be telling us to give up or give in. There is this earnest optimism and heart that has so long been missing from the current slew of DCEU films. Sure, there may be critics who try to argue that this film is “preachy” or guilty of not being subtle in its commentary on the complexity of the human condition or condemnation of government corruption and capitalism, but the time for subtlety is over, and the time for outright condemnation and inspiration is now.

Written By J.D. Valdepenas

Brewing Empathy Through Film: An Interview with Gabriel Noble, Writer/Director of A Cup of Tea

In an intimate, candid conversation full of empathy, insight, and mutual understanding, filmmaker Gabriel Noble opens up about the journey behind their debut short film, A Cup of Tea, a layered portrait of grief, community, and the humanity behind headlines. The project, born out of adversity, became not only a personal triumph but also a work that stirs collective reflection on justice and healing.

Recently graduated from Stony Brook University with a Master's in Fine Arts majoring in Film and TV Writing, Gabriel joined the conversation, still recovering from burnout and illness. Yet despite the fatigue, what emerged was a moving discussion about filmmaking as both a creative and emotional act of resilience.

Turning Isolation Into Art

Securing funding for A Cup of Tea was an early and defining challenge. Gabriel turned to the crowdfunding platform Seed & Spark with no prior experience. “I had to do it all on my own from filming the pitch to setting up the campaign page,” they explained. “It was exhausting. Once we launched, it became this constant anxiety. You’re just watching the numbers.”

Although the campaign began strongly, momentum stalled after two weeks. Gabriel was on the verge of giving up when a college friend stepped in with an unexpected act of generosity: a $10,000 donation. “His mom had passed away and left him money,” Gabriel said. “He wanted to use it to support other people’s dreams. Without him, this film wouldn’t have happened.”

The emotional toll didn’t stop at money. “Not a lot of people even knew I wanted to be a filmmaker,” they admitted. “My parents were supportive, but it felt like I was alone most of the time.”

But that very sense of solitude, the emotional and creative weight of feeling unsupported became the thematic bedrock of the film. “The characters are isolated, grieving. That was exactly how I felt at the time. I just leaned into that.”

Directing from the Heart

For Gabriel, A Cup of Tea was more than storytelling; it was soul-bearing. When asked which scene was the hardest to direct, Gabriel pointed to a central moment of confrontation: two parents arguing at a coffee table, consumed by grief over the loss of their child.

“I’ve never lost a child, and I don’t even want kids,” they said. “So how do I direct actors who are parents in real life?”

The answer came in emotional honesty. During two Zoom rehearsals leading up to the shoot, Gabriel asked the actors to reflect on their real lives: once on their happiest moments as parents, then on the hardest. “By the time we got to set, that emotional groundwork was already there. My job was to trust them.”

A Cinematic Eye - Even Before Film School

Though they hadn’t yet begun grad school, Gabriel already had a strong visual sensibility. “I didn’t know about the rule of thirds or traditional framing concepts,” they admitted. “But I’ve always understood how an image can carry emotional weight.”

Cinematographer Rikki Porter played a crucial role in executing that vision. “She got what I was going for, sometimes better than I did,” Gabriel said. “That’s my biggest advice to any filmmaker: find a DP you can talk to, who speaks your language. It’ll change everything.”

One sequence stands out as Gabriel’s favorite: a quietly devastating birthday scene. “It was in the first draft, I knew it had to be the centerpiece,” they said. “The camera slowly pushes in on Shannon’s face as everyone sings. No dialogue. Just her expression.”

They shot the film in a single day, a decision Gabriel now calls “insane.” By the time they reached the birthday scene, everyone was exhausted. “But I needed one more take. I asked the team to trust me. And when we got it, my producer said, ‘That was so cinematic.’ Watching it still gives me chills.”

Do you need film school to make a film? “Absolutely Not,” Gabriel said. “Every film is film school. Making this short taught me everything from managing a set to trusting collaborators.

There were so many pieces of equipment I didn’t understand. I just asked people questions. Watching them operate things with confidence was so educational.”

They laughed, “I think Tarantino said that first. But I live by it.”

A Story Born on the Block

The inspiration for A Cup of Tea came from Gabriel’s neighborhood. “There’s this woman who lives on my block, always sitting quietly on her stoop. She’s not on her phone, not reading just sitting, existing. That image stayed with me.”

In 2022, amidst the lingering trauma of the pandemic and the social unrest following the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, Gabriel enrolled in a screenwriting class. The final assignment was to write a 12-page short.

“I kept thinking about the aftermath of the protests,” they said. “What happens to the parents who were thrust into the spotlight? They’re grieving, and suddenly they’re also public figures. That contradiction stayed with me.”

Gabriel, influenced by dialogue-driven films like Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, wrote a piece that thrived on tension and subtext. At first, they weren’t going to direct it. “A mentor told me, ‘This is your story, you have to direct it.’ And I’m so glad I did.”

Evolution and What’s Next

Since completing A Cup of Tea, Gabriel’s perspective on filmmaking has grown. “Grad school expanded how I think about visual storytelling,” they said. “I still love dialogue, but now I’m drawn to darker material, thrillers, mysteries. The next short I’m working on is way different in tone.”

They’re adamant about not being boxed into one genre. “Sidney Lumet is a huge inspiration; he did Dog Day Afternoon, The Wiz, and courtroom dramas. That’s what I want: range.”

Gabriel is already beginning work on their next short film, which will explore gun violence in America. “I'm entering the funding process again,” they said. “So stay tuned.”

Building the World Through Space and Color

Set design played a pivotal role in shaping the emotional tone of A Cup of Tea. Though the team originally searched for locations in Brooklyn, they ultimately shot in Harlem near 125th Street. “I needed a house that felt lived in, something passed down through generations,” Gabriel explained.

The location they found already had depth. “Romina, the homeowner, had so many artifacts and textures in the space. We barely had to dress the set. The melanin, the plants, the warm tones it all just fit.”Color was crucial. “I didn’t want the film to be too dark. It’s about grief, but it’s also about hope. The lighting and palette of warm oranges, greens, and natural textures reflected that balance.”

What Conversations Should A Cup of Tea Spark?

As our conversation wound down, I asked Gabriel what they hope audiences take away from A Cup of Tea, especially in terms of race, justice, and healing.

“I want it to spark conversations about why this keeps happening,” they said. “Approaching the story through a natural, humanistic lens helps audiences see these people, these parents, as more than just headlines. They’re human. They're grieving. And they’re trying to move forward.”

Ultimately, Gabriel hopes the film stands in solidarity with those who've suffered unimaginable loss. “It’s about honoring the victims and the families left behind. I want people to remember that grief doesn’t disappear once the cameras do. And I hope the film helps people keep fighting for justice.”

A Cup of Tea - and a New Chapter

Gabriel may be just beginning their journey, but A Cup of Tea showcases that they are a natural storyteller or something like that.. It’s a mature, resonant film that leaves a lasting impact not only because of what it says, but because of how it says it.

As they prepare to enter a new phase of storytelling, one thing is clear: Gabriel’s voice is one that audiences and the industry should be paying attention to.

A Cup of Tea is now available to stream on Vimeo.

Written by Chloe Kaleah Stewart

We Can’t Follow the Spotlight Forever: The Last Showgirl and Expectations of Female Performers

In 2022, the sensationalized relationship between actress Pamela Anderson and Mötley Crue’s Tommy Lee became a victim to the limited series biopic wave of television. The series focused on the stealing and leaking of their honeymoon sextape, with a highlighting of the man who did it (Seth Rogan) as well as its impacts on both Anderson and Lee (Lily James and Sebastian Stan, respectively). The show went on to receive high accolades, mainly from the lead performances. Rogen, Stan and James received Primetime Emmy Award nominations for their portrayals and the overall was nominated for “Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series.” 

The issue, however, is the fact that Pamela Anderson, main character of the true story being told, did not approve of the project.  Pam and Tommy was made without the permission or aid of Anderson in the slightest, which she confirmed in her own Netflix documentary in 2023’s Pamela, a Love Story. 

This regressive representation of Anderson as a sex symbol from the 1990’s is a direct reflection of the contents of the show, in which she, her body, and sexuality are exploited for the media once again without her consent entirely. Since the release of the show, Anderson has become a feminist icon of the mid 2020’s; she embraces a bare face at fashion and film events, she released a plant-based cookbook, and simply has a newfound agency for herself. She made her return to acting in the 2022 Broadway production of Chicago, and following the release of her documentary, Gia Coppola sent her the script for The Last Showgirl. 

From the director that brought us critical Tumblr text Palo Alto in 2013, Gia Coppola was the writer and director of this film. A common critique to this Coppola nepo-baby’s auteurism is her “style over substance” approach. Beautiful frames are composed to accompany a script that only seems to scratch the surface of what it could say. In the case of The Last Showgirl, Coppola interestingly keeps the edges of the frame blurry, with her subject being the only aspect in focus, typically in the center of the frame. Even when the narrative tries to tell us otherwise, the showgirl is always the center of attention from Coppola's gaze and the audience's perspective.  

 We are introduced to Anderson’s “showgirl” via an audition. She stands center stage, with a bright light illuminating her as she fumbles through her audition. Firstly, she lies about her age and it's obvious.  She quickly follows up with a clarification that she hasn’t “auditioned in a while.” It is an unfortunately perfect introduction to Anderson’s character, who we come to learn is Shelly. Before this audition, Shelly was still dancing with Le Razzle Dazzle, an old-fashioned Las Vegas showgirl neo-burlesque. Alongside Shelly are her younger counterparts: Jodie (Kiernan Shipka) and Mary-Anne (Brenda Song). Eddie, portrayed by Dave Bautista, is the owner and manager of Le Razzle Dazzle and has been for many years. We get inside to their entire dynamic when the girls and Eddie are all having lunch with Shelly, including Annette (Jamie Lee Curtis), who was a former Le Razzle Dazzle dancer and now works at the casino as a cocktail waitress. It’s immediately obvious that this way of life isn’t sustainable in the slightest, with Annete unable to retire and must continue attempting to sell her looks and body for a living, yet is losing hours to the younger servers in her establishment. Jodie still shows a youthful form of optimism for her future, promising to learn French with Shelly and retire in Las Vegas. 

It is at this lunch that Eddie breaks the news that the show is finishing in two weeks. Jodie and Mary-Anne begin to audition for raunchier and modern shows, and Shelly proves herself to be still stuck in the romantic fantasy of the past. Having been a showgirl with Le Razzle Dazzle for the last twenty to thirty years, she clings to her dreams of being a true dancer. She dreams of the ballet, and the vintage glitz and glamour of life that she was promised. However, Shelly pushes through, and in a time of doom, she has no one to face but herself, dressed and decorated to the max. 

This idealized version of her past self isn’t only prominent to her, but to her estranged daughter, Hannah (Billie Lourd), who visits Shelly to let her know that she is now graduating college with a degree in photography. When Hannah decides to watch the show and see exactly what life her mother chose to live over herself, she throws shame into the face of Shelly. We also see the slight mother-daughter dependency that Jodie has grown to have for Shelly falling apart, when Jodie realizes that the life she chose is not and will never be acceptable to her family and she is truly on her own.

All of the showgirls are, unfortunately. Shelly can’t get a date or fix the relationship with her daughter, Jodie is without her family, and Annette is on the verge of homelessness. This brutally honest display on the life of a performer is what makes the technical choices made by Coppola stand out. The times change and the spotlight moves to highlight the next big thing. The next beauty standard, the next thing that's considered hot. Sex is selling more and more, and Shelly refuses to grasp it. In addition to that, as the director tells her in the audition, the talents that Shelly may have displayed in her earlier career have no space in the current age of performance. 

However, what else is there for these women when the spotlight moves off of them? Are they meant to just continue to adapt to something outside their standards? Are they meant for a life of maltreatment by the industry that promised them stardom and dreams come true? The film also calls into question the audience’s participation in the sensationalizing of these women. By the rules of the camera, we are not allowed to see anything but these women. 

Although Pamela Anderson took agency of her own life, making her own documentary with her son and writing a cookbook about the new life she’s adapted, she still finds herself a victim of the nostalgic romanticism of who she once was, or presented as to the public. Becoming an actress was never in her path, and certainly the sex-symbol status was something out of her control. Her past remains something in the spotlight, with newer generations watching shows like Pam and Tommy and older generations having the image of her 90’s persona ingrained in their mind for something that was completely out of Anderson’s control.  The spotlight itself sits outside the hands of the stage, and the sad reality is that until it moves on to someone else, the show must go on in any way it can. 

Written by Ana Marks