When DC Studios’ co-CEO James Gunn took to YouTube three years ago to announce plans for turning around the comic company’s cinematic universe, he gleefully went straight for the hardcore nerdbait. Yes, he and his partner in corporate-I.P.-resetting Peter
Safran would be tackling the usual legacy suspects, including a new Superman (which turned out quite nicely, thank you very much) and eventually, a new Batman. But everything else Gunn mentioned in terms of their initial “Gods and Monsters” phase suggested they were more interested in exploring the fan-favorite margins than simply milking previous moneymakers to death. Deep-cut characters like Booster Gold and the Creature Commandos were namedropped. Offbeat X-meets-Y premises (what if True Detective starred members of the Green Lantern corps? What if a Game of Thrones-type saga was set on Wonder Woman’s Amazonian island?) were teased. Most new regimes would have kicked off a 2.0 era with nothing but sure things. Gunn went hard in the paint for a rebooted Swamp Thing.
There was one upcoming project in particular that perked up the ears of regular D.C. readers. Tom King’s eight-issue Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow from 2021 was the sort of limited series that reminded you just how powerful superhero stories could be. It took a character that was often reduced to eye candy in a cape or, worse, a punchline, and dropped her into a cosmos-spanning story about revenge, genocide, and the need to protect not just the innocent but the concept of innocence itself. It was nominated for an Eisner award, and frankly, it should have won. You can hear the admiration in Gunn’s voice as he flashed to a panel of Bilquis Evely’s artwork during his announcement. And Milly Alcock’s cameo as Kara Zor-El, cousin to the Man of Steel, at the end of Superman suggested they’d lean into that book’s version of her as a messy, interstellar party girl in a cape.
They do, and if nothing else, Supergirl will make a case to casual moviegoers that the character deserves to be treated as more than a “super-family” footnote. No offense to fans of the 2015 TV show or the 1984 movie, both of which have their merits. But this interpretation of the twentysomething with an iconic S on her chest feels far more nuanced and complicated than past screen versions. And thanks to Alcock’s deft performance, a script from Ana Noguiera that properly fleshes out Kara’s redemptive arc, and director Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya) knowing when to go heavy and when to stay breezy, this Supergirl is given enough space to distinguish herself from her far more famous relative. “He sees the good in people,” she says at one point, when asked about her do-gooder cousin. “I see the truth.” Some of the edges from the source material have been sanded down, but the movie gives you enough drama — and trauma — to make the line feel like more than just supersized pathos.
One of the young women at the center of this blockbuster is faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and can down a toxic amount of shots in a single binge. Kara is celebrating her 23rd birthday with an epic pub crawl on a distant planet with a red sun, which neutralizes her powers and thus means she can get properly wasted. The other is named Ruthye (Eve Ridley). She’s 13 and has just experienced an unimaginable tragedy, courtesy of a rat bastard named Krem of the Yellow Hills (Rust and Bone‘s Matthias Schoenaerts). He and his roving group of brigands have slaughtered her family.
Ruthye has shown up at a tavern where Supergirl happens to be sampling the local spirits and dancing to Wet Leg’s “Catch These Fists” — nice to know this banger is a jukebox staple even in the farthest corners of the galaxy — with a pitch to all assembled. Whoever helps her kill Krem, she says, can have her father’s exquisitely forged sword. Some local ne’er-do-wells decide they’ll just take the saber from this teen. Kara isn’t fond of men simply taking things. Even without her super-strength, she can still kick an entitled, alien douchebag’s ass.
Supergirl may have helped Ruthye get her family heirloom back, but she isn’t interested in getting involved in someone else’s vendetta. “Not my monkeys, not my circus,” is her hungover response to joining the kid’s crusade. But when Krem returns to the scene of his crime, wounds her dog Krypto, and steals Kara’s spaceship — well, now it’s personal. So the duo go off in search of this outlaw, bopping from one planet to the next in search of this murderer. Along the way, they’ll encounter tech pirates, a host of extras who appear to have been recruited straight out of the Mos Eisley cantina, several nasty creatures, and a bounty hunter named Lobo.
Yeah, that Lobo. Longtime comic aficionados may remember that period in the late 1980s when dark, brooding, violent antiheroes were all the rage. Lobo was introduced as a villain before later being recycled as a sort of parody of those over-the-top types; he was soon embraced as the embodiment of edgy, wisecracking badasses sans irony and became a huge fan favorite. On the page, you could describe him as “What if Wolverine from the X-Men joined the Hell’s Angels?” Onscreen, the character comes off more like, “What if Jason Momoa fronted a Mercyful Fate cover band?”
The former Aquaman has been given a second chance to be part of D.C.’s Cinematic Universe via this stogie-smoking hulk, and to say this blatant nod to fan service is the film’s weak link would be putting it lightly. King had apparently considered using Lobo in Woman of Tomorrow and jettisoned the idea. Now you see why he did. Momoa plays up outlaw-biker-from-hell caricature as faithfully as he can, and there will be a portion of the audience who will be ecstatic that the “bastich” of yore has been introduced into this franchise, with the suggestion of further appearances in future films. The rest of us can only roll our eyes and grit our teeth.
Thankfully, the focus stays on the woman in the title and her young ward, and it’s their bond — as well Kara’s attempt to keep the youngster from being tainted by endless cycles of retribution — that keeps Supergirl emotionally grounded even when its heroes are flying past nebulae. The emphasis on the toll that eye-for-an-eye vengeance takes, not to mention Kara being haunted by memories of her world being destroyed, make this feel like more than just another superhero romp; Alcock has a knack for suggesting deep psychological scars without resorting to soap operatics, a skill that she honed on her brief turn in the GoT spinoff House of the Dragon. She’s also a fine physical comedian, which comes in handy when the movie frequently opts for the funny over the fury. Gillespie seems to have taken a few cues from his boss by adding a nudge-wink Guardians of the Galaxy vibe to the whole affair, as well as a few borrowed bits of Mad Max-ish dystopia and a grab-bag of stock sci-fi elements.
A lot of this will certainly seem familiar, maybe even overly familiar in places. A few appearances by David Corenswet’s Superman keeps reminding you, as if you’d ever forgotten, that this is just one chapter in what will be an ongoing plan to keep fans investing in overarching, multi-franchise storylines and consistently buying tickets. And those who love King’s book may wish that the film went into the less blockbuster-friendly, more challenging aspects of his Supergirl masterwork. But this movie proves that you can take something that might seem esoteric or strictly-for-the-heads and make mass entertainment out of it without selling out completely. No one thought Superman was a fluke. But if Gunn & co. can keep maintaining this kind of quality and respect for the D.C. stable of side characters while digging into deeper, thornier terrain like this and still adding an element of fun, this whole 2.0 era might actually make you believe a franchise reset can fly.
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