Like many stories about the omnipotent, Supergirl confronts Superman’s problem head-on. Namely: how to tell an interesting story about a character for whom everything comes easy?
And, as in many other similar stories, the most appetizing and self-evident solutions Supergirl the findings, unfortunately, are also the hardest for the public to digest.
You’ve seen it before: the almighty is strangely saddled with artificial problems that somehow turn god-like powers into a curse. A super-powered hero inexplicably becomes too weak to defeat his street foes, making the stakes seem real.
Or that almost omnipotent paragon of power who decided to isolate himself from humanity in order to create pathos. Or simply wanting to strip her of her power, since life can apparently only be enjoyed by the weak and mortal.
In fact, it’s such a common problem that it might have been best addressed in an early 2000s webcomic. minus. Following the adventures of an equally omnipotent being, minus doesn’t dwell on how supposedly difficult it would be to be faster than a speeding bullet. Instead, he pokes fun at the way writers default to this idea to make their stories work.
“Supergirl” hits theaters Friday and follows on from last summer’s successful “Superman” reboot. Actress Millie Alcock plays Superman’s cousin Kara Zor-El, who embarks on an interstellar adventure with an unusual companion. CBC’s Jackson Weaver shares his review of the latest DC superhero film.
“When it comes down to it, normal human life is the way to go!” exclaims a very human child one stripemaking fun of this common stereotype by trying to convince himself that flying would be terrible.
Then Minus flies on a cloud above their heads and goes off into the distance. The rest of the kids are running around holding hand-drawn clouds. Because, of course, being super would be incredible. Any morality that says otherwise is a contrived answer to the Superman problem.
As you may have guessed, Supergirl not exactly a groundbreaking answer to a question that has plagued Superman writers since the iconic superhero’s earliest days. The problems start from the first minute of the film, when we watch Supergirl (Millie Alcock) try her best. Hancock impression. Waking up with a hangover and playfully lopsided sunglasses, Superman’s younger and older cousin embarks on a self-destructive pub crawl across the galaxy.
It is an adventure born of a deep break with humanity. In her mind, the only way to cope is to physically isolate herself from everyone who cares about her, as well as from Earth’s yellow sun that gives her such powers.
Soon after, this wounded woman reluctantly takes in the protection of a wounded girl: Ruthie (Eve Ridley), a mortal but fierce warrior given the film’s only semi-effective backstory.
Armed with an incredibly valuable sword forged by her father (and no, we’re not asking why swords are so coveted in a story about laser beams, hyperdrives and superpowers), Ruthie seeks revenge for the murder of her family by interstellar bandit Cream (Matthias Schoenaerts).
Meanwhile, the endlessly generic “bad for the sake of being bad” villain does just that. Aside from Brad Pitt’s strangely recurring habit of eating other people’s food, his only memorable traits are the ball bearings built into his face and his willingness to poison Supergirl’s superdog, Krypto.
Luckily for her—and for the plot—the antidote is hanging around Cream’s neck. So, with all the ingredients of a long Logan, Uptown girls And Terminator 2 As is tradition, Supergirl reluctantly takes custody of Ruthie during the interstellar journey. And through caring for children, she learns that true happiness comes when she refuses voluntary loneliness. Roll the credits and cry.
First of all, it’s good. The world building and set design are generally effective, even if Supergirl often resembles distinctly browner Guardians of the Galaxy repaint.
The acting is also admirable, especially Alcock’s fantastically caustic Supergirl and Ridley’s endearingly stubborn Ruthie. Even Schoenaerts somehow turns the aggressively gray Cream into something more convincing than the walking boulder he was written to be.
And at least Jason Momoa seems to be having fun as the demonic biker god Lobo – although he’s in and out of the larger plot with all the implications of Stan Lee’s cameo in the MCU.
Unfortunately, this is both the end of Supergirl’s strengths and an example of its main problem: the amateurish writing and direction make the film feel equally pointless and inert.
Disappointing direction
Written by first-time screenwriter Ana Nogueira and directed by action newcomer Craig Gillespie, it’s honestly shocking how aimless the sequel to the eclectically energetic DCU film 2025 is. Superman is.
Even those who didn’t like the morally simplistic tenor of that film’s Boy Scouts could see that it achieved its goal of balancing out the cartoonish joy of the classic. Superman stories directly related to his (now controversial) ideals of universal acceptance and opposition to xenophobia.
Supergirl does the opposite. Moreover, it fails to define its protagonist at the most basic level of storytelling. Nogueira’s script feels like a bucket of action movies thrown together without any understanding of why they work, while Gillespie’s sluggish, anti-action direction bogs it down even further.
For example, there is Supergirl’s self-imposed exile, motivated by dissatisfaction, which the film barely explores. The backstory in the middle of the film only slightly enhances it, but at the same time does more to introduce the franchise’s version of Superman’s origin. Lobo checks the box for adding a fan-favorite name, but his character is so inconsequential that he could be removed without changing the story at all.
We also get the standard superhero motivation—Supergirl strongly advises Ruthie not to kill, lest it scar her for life—without providing any in-universe context for what trauma or experience shaped that belief.
And that’s not to mention that one of the most powerful beings in the universe becomes chronically unable to win bar fights against street thugs whom BatmanDamian Wayne could do it without breaking a sweat.
The film also does nothing to address or subvert the reality of women being devalued or undervalued. Aside from one unanswered question about why a 23-year-old girl is Super-Girl and her cousin becomes Super-Man, it throws out what could have been an interesting theme.
These are all standard storytelling crutches, common enough to not be successful. Supergirl horrible. But they make it even worse: boring.