Skip Navigation

Uh-oh, kryptonite!

Jason seems to like Superman Returns, but I’m pretty sure the collective “meh” arising from my cinema was audible from space. It weren’t no Batman Returns, I’ll tell you that much.

Yes, I just said that.

My problem isn’t so much with the film, although I wish Singer had spent all that time directing X-Men 3 instead of having Ratner fill in, it’s with Superman himself. Infinitely powerful, invulnerable, and suffering no moral dilemma besides his recurring “gosh Lois is pretty, but she doesn’t love me, she loves the other me” sob, how is anyone supposed to relate to him? Spider-Man is cut from the same cloth, to be sure, but I begrudge him less because he can’t fly.

Give me the X-Men, give me Batman, give me the Hulk, give me the Punisher. Give me weak, flawed people who can’t save everyone; people who suffer through their own inner demons, fighting for good, fighting for love, fighting for vengeance, fighting for their own sanity. Give me people I’ll shed a tear for when they die.

Not to give too much away, but I wish Superman had died at the end, Lois pounding his chest as young Jason strokes the red and gold emblem of his suit. It would’ve been… better.