James Gunn’s Superman review: cosmic brawls, stray dogs, and a kaiju-sized heart

Superman stands on the moon, Krypto by his side, eyes fixed on a small blue planet that holds every fragile heartbeat he chose to protect. James Gunn gives him a new pulse, one that stumbles, laughs, holds stray dogs close, and builds a family with loud allies and quiet moments. This version of the Last Son of Krypton feels less like a cold symbol and more like that friend who stays even when the galaxy begs him to leave.

This review breathes in feels first, recap second. Spoilers live here because each choice deserves to be felt rather than just reported.

What side of the Force am I on? Oops, wrong franchise. But if you need to know, I stand with the Superman who picks chaotic humanity over cosmic domination, the one who carries every scar as proof of love, the one who rises without crushing what lies beneath him.

A pulse that feels both messy and alive

James Gunn paints a Superman who smiles through kaiju dust and carries every rooftop scream in his chest. He walks into battles glowing with anime energy, each punch echoing like a stadium cheer rather than a silent blow in a vacuum. And that nod to The Suicide Squad? About hitting the eye of the kaiju? Genius! A chaotic move that feels hilarious and epic at the same time.

The Last Son of Krypton enters the story already tangled in humanity’s noise. He laughs with Lois, exchanges sharp looks with Lex, and stands still long enough to notice every child staring at the sky. The film transforms cosmic threats into personal challenges, each giant monster turning into another reason to stay close to Earth rather than float above it.

Gunn fills every corner with small rebellions, stray jokes, and soft glances that matter more than any explosion. Instead of sculpting a distant god, he shapes a protector who collects each voice as fuel. The Man of Steel rises because he feels everything and carries each heartbeat as part of his own.

Questions sharper than kryptonite

Lois slices into Superman’s walls with her questions, each one brighter than a spotlight and sharper than kryptonite. Her interview with him moves beyond romantic tension and shapes the moral spine of the story. Each question lands like a quiet challenge, pushing him to see the value in small, imperfect moments and to embrace the weight of each decision.

Their dynamic feels electric and layered, growing through real conversation rather than staged confessions. Lois builds her story with force and independence, moving through the world with fierce clarity. She stands beside him as an equal, not as a guide or moral compass, but as a powerful presence who claims her own space and shapes her own legacy.

Lex moves across the screen like a gamer trapped inside his obsession. He treats power as a set of moves to perfect and people as pieces to rearrange. Watching Lex push each scheme forward feels like staring at a storm inside a glass, beautiful and terrifying in the same breath.

Every conversation crackles with tension and warmth, every stare carries a silent story. Superman stands between these two forces, absorbing each word and each blow as another reason to stay and keep choosing the messy, impossible love Earth offers.

Dogs, scars, and the family you pick

Krypto jumps into the story with a spirit that feels both wild and tender. He moves with the heart and behavior of a real dog, full of loyalty and chaos in equal measure. Krypto embodies every unspoken promise Superman makes to Earth, a promise to stay close, stay messy, and stay real.

The Justice "Gang" stands as a constellation of loud souls and quiet glances. Mr. Terrific shines with quick wit, Hawkgirl anchors every moment with gravity, and Green Lantern steadies the emotional pulse. They breathe as chosen family, each one proving that love grows stronger through shared failures and late-night confessions.

Superman gathers every scar as a badge of belonging rather than a curse. His journey steps away from dominance and moves into the slow, vulnerable work of becoming part of something greater. He leans in with Krypto beside him and a new family rising around every broken wall.

Peacemaker and the world around Superman

Peacemaker appears on a TV screen, talking about Superman with chaotic humor. This quick cameo feels like a playful interruption from a world that treats superhumans as casual headlines rather than distant legends. Peacemaker enters the scene to remind us of a loud, unpredictable and chaotic part of this shared universe, adding a sharp edge to the background noise around Superman.

This small moment builds texture without distracting from the Man of Steel’s personal journey. It shows a world that accepts superpowered beings as part of everyday conversation, blending cosmic scale with casual chaos.

A spirit echoing the 70s comics

James Gunn brings in a Superman who carries the playful weirdness and emotional depth of the 70s comics. That era shaped Superman as someone who drifted between cosmic threats and deeply human insecurities, someone who saved entire planets in the morning and still wondered if he truly belonged among humans at night.

The film pulses with the same energy. Kaiju clashes and anime-style choreography mirror the wild cosmic adventures that filled those pages, stories where Superman fought giant space creatures and dealt with bizarre science experiments. At the same time, each quiet pause and rooftop question calls back to the emotional honesty those comics loved to explore.

This Superman glows with bright colors and psychedelic tension, feels small when holding a child or a stray dog, and feels limitless when standing in front of a monster. The balance of loud, colorful chaos and quiet moral introspection creates a bridge between those classic stories and the messy, modern heartbeat Gunn builds on screen.

A moonlit heartbeat that stays

In the moonlit mid-credits moment, our hero stands beside Krypto, looking at Earth as a fragile collection of late-night lights and rooftop confessions. Each scar glows like a small lantern rather than a mark of defeat. He accepts every flaw and holds every fragile laugh as part of his own pulse.

This Superman feels messy, tender, and endlessly loyal. Gunn builds a world that does not ask for a flawless savior but embraces a guardian who keeps showing up, even when every instinct suggests leaving. The film breathes with warmth and cosmic color, balancing giant kaiju clashes with soft gestures and crooked smiles.

Superman rises as the friend who stays through every impossible night, who holds each sunrise as proof that love survives in every small, defiant breath. He does not conquer Earth. He belongs to it, and it belongs to him in return.

Rating with a touch of flair: 5 moonlit dog howls out of 5 unstoppable heartbeats.