Superman 2025 - Themes of James Gunn's DC Universe Reboot

16 December 2024
James Gunn’s Superman (2025) is more than just a cinematic reboot; it’s a mission statement. 

The film marks the dawn of the DC Universe’s Chapter One: Gods and Monsters, and it carries the weight of generations—of films, comics, and cultural expectations. 

But Gunn isn’t aiming for spectacle alone; he’s channeling the essence of Superman as both a modern myth and a timeless symbol. In a landscape dominated by flawed anti-heroes and fractured ideals, Gunn’s Superman seeks to reconcile the contradictions of a godlike figure raised on a Kansas farm, embodying compassion in a world hardened by cynicism.

Superman 2025 - Themes of James Gunn's DC Universe Reboot


The Alien and the Boy from Smallville: Reconciling Dual Identities

At the core of Gunn’s Superman is a timeless dilemma—Clark Kent’s struggle to reconcile his alien birthright with his Smallville upbringing. This isn’t just a thematic thread; it’s the backbone of Superman lore. Gunn reaches into the DNA of the character, drawing on Grant Morrison’s All-Star Superman (2005–2008), which captured Kal-El as a benevolent god, and Superman: Birthright (2003–2004), Mark Waid’s exploration of Clark as both reporter and savior.

In Superman (2025), Gunn restores the humanity that made Clark Kent resonate for generations: the farmer’s son, the quiet boy raised by Jonathan and Martha Kent, whose moral compass was forged in Smallville’s wheat fields. It’s in this tension—between the omnipotent last son of Krypton and the humble journalist at the Daily Planet—that Gunn finds emotional truth. The Fortress of Solitude, traditionally depicted as a Kryptonian cathedral of knowledge, mirrors Clark’s external struggle with his alien lineage, while the Kent farmhouse becomes the anchor for his humanity.

This dynamic asks a profound philosophical question: can someone be truly human when they are fundamentally “other”? Clark’s compassion, his sense of justice—these are not despite his alien nature but because of it. He is both observer and participant, constantly torn between his role as Earth’s protector and a man searching for belonging. Gunn’s Clark is not jaded like Zack Snyder’s; he is hopeful yet reflective, a younger man wrestling with the weight of two worlds.

Superman’s identity isn’t a mask—it’s a synthesis. Gunn underscores that Kal-El’s real power lies not in flight or heat vision but in his ability to choose kindness in a world that tests it at every turn.


Heroism Reimagined: Truth, Justice, and the New American Way

Peter Safran, co-CEO of DC Studios, describes this Superman as “kindness in a world that thinks of kindness as old-fashioned.” This line isn’t hyperbole—it’s a challenge. In Gunn’s vision, Superman is a reflection of the man we aspire to be, not the man we fear we are. The modern superhero genre, from Marvel’s morally grey Eternals to Snyder’s own deconstructionist Man of Steel, has leaned heavily into fractured ideologies of power. Gunn’s Superman is a rebuke to the cynicism that has made heroes less aspirational and more relatable.

In comics like All-Star Superman, Kal-El accepts his role as a figure of hope—an ideal for humanity to strive toward. Gunn’s Superman embodies this ethos, resurrecting the iconic phrase, “Truth, justice, and the American way.” But Gunn reframes this for a 21st-century audience. The “American way” is not blind patriotism but a universal striving for equity, compassion, and moral clarity. Superman does not save the day because he can, but because it is the right thing to do. In this light, Gunn positions Superman as a counterpoint to modern anti-heroes—Batman’s rage, the Authority’s moral ambiguity, and Luthor’s distrust of power.

This exploration of heroism is particularly relevant in today’s fractured landscape. Gunn revives Superman as a “blue-collar god,” a man who chooses to stand among humanity rather than above it. His Clark Kent is not the distant icon of Donner’s 1978 Superman nor the reluctant messiah of Snyder’s Man of Steel; he’s the quiet hero who looks for the best in people—even when they cannot see it in themselves.

The inclusion of figures like Lex Luthor sharpens this conflict. Inspired by Lex Luthor: Man of Steel (2005), Gunn’s Luthor isn’t a cartoon villain but a man who fears Superman’s power precisely because it challenges his vision of human achievement. Luthor is humanity’s darker reflection—arrogant, distrustful, and self-serving. Where Superman chooses altruism, Luthor chooses ego.

A Return to Legacy: Balancing Myth and Modernity

Gunn’s Superman is not a reinvention—it’s a restoration. The decision to draw heavily from All-Star Superman, alongside Fleischer Studios’ iconic 1940s shorts, signals a deliberate return to the roots of Superman’s mythos. Gunn understands that Superman’s longevity comes from his ability to adapt without compromising his core ideals.

This film is not an origin story. Clark Kent steps into Gunn’s DCU as an already established hero—a young man in his mid-20s, grappling with his place in the world but far from naïve. This choice allows Gunn to explore Clark as both a journalist for the Daily Planet and a symbol for Metropolis. The bustling newsroom becomes an important metaphor: it’s a place of truth and accountability, where heroes like Lois Lane fight battles with words as fiercely as Clark fights with fists.

Superman’s supporting cast—Lois, Jimmy Olsen, and Perry White—grounds the myth in modern reality. Gunn treats Lois Lane as more than just a love interest; she’s Clark’s intellectual equal, a fearless journalist whose pursuit of truth mirrors Superman’s pursuit of justice. Rachel Brosnahan’s casting ensures that Lois will be as sharp and “fiercely intelligent” as her best comic incarnations.

By introducing heroes like Mister Terrific, Hawkgirl, and the Green Lantern Guy Gardner, Gunn also expands Superman’s world. These characters reflect a universe already in motion—a DCU where the gods and monsters are not confined to isolated origin stories. Yet, Gunn resists turning Superman into an ensemble piece. At its heart, this is Clark’s story. Gunn’s decision to keep the film’s title simple—Superman—is a declaration: this is the definitive version of the Man of Tomorrow.


A Return to Hope: Superman as Cultural and Philosophical Rebirth

Superman is, at his core, the ultimate aspirational figure—a hero who reminds us that hope is not a weakness but a superpower. In a time when superhero narratives lean into darker, morally ambiguous territory, Gunn’s Superman serves as a cultural corrective. It’s a return to optimism, a reminder that the best heroes don’t save the day because they have to, but because they choose to.

Gunn understands that Superman is not just a character; he’s a cultural symbol. Born in the late 1930s, amidst the Great Depression and rising global tensions, Superman emerged as a figure of hope for a struggling world. He was—and remains—a myth for the modern age, an answer to humanity’s fears of its own fragility. The world of 2025 is no less fractured, no less in need of that hope. By embracing Superman’s kindness and moral clarity, Gunn reframes heroism as an act of defiance against cynicism.

The film’s connection to All-Star Superman is particularly significant. Morrison’s Superman is aware of his mortality and his responsibility to leave the world better than he found it. Gunn’s Superman shares this ethos: his Clark Kent doesn’t just fly through the sky; he works, he loves, he struggles. By doing so, he reminds humanity of its own capacity for greatness. Superman’s strength isn’t just in his superpowers but in his ability to see the potential for good in people—even when they can’t see it themselves.

The inclusion of Krypto the Superdog may seem whimsical, but it’s deliberate. Krypto is more than comic relief; he’s a symbol of unconditional loyalty and love—another reflection of Clark’s humanity. Gunn’s use of these elements reaffirms his commitment to blending the mythic and the personal, the grand and the relatable.

The film’s title—stripped down simply to Superman—is another statement. This is not a legacy story or an origin tale. It is definitive, a cultural reset for the character and the franchise. Superman is not a god above us or a monster to fear; he is a man striving, as we all should, to do good in a complex and often unforgiving world.

In Superman (2025), Gunn does more than introduce the DCU; he delivers a manifesto. By reframing Clark Kent’s humanity as his greatest superpower, Gunn reminds us that even in a world of gods and monsters, kindness, truth, and hope remain timeless ideals worth fighting for.


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About the author Jimmy Jangles


My name is Jimmy Jangles, the founder of The Astromech. I have always been fascinated by the world of science fiction, especially the Star Wars universe, and I created this website to share my love for it with fellow fans.

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