When I watched Superman (2025) for the second time, I watched it with my family. My father is the reason I got into Superman and DC Comics from a young age. Ever since then, it became a family ritual that my father and I would watch the latest film featuring the Man of Steel. After the movie, I asked my father on the ride home what he thought of Gunn's rendition. He smiled and told me, "It's good, but I still like that one film where he had a son, he was so human there."
I chuckled at this comment because he would always bring up Superman Returns (2006) whenever I talk about the character. I still vividly remember watching Zack Snyder's Man of Steel in the cinemas, and he would mention Returns at every chance. I did not understand why my dad loved this film so much. The online discourse for this film has been indifferent at best and downright hostile at worst. For this alone, as I was a child in the internet age of Nostalgia Critics and Cinema Sins of the world, I've avoided rewatching this for a long time. My father's casual remark and my rejuvenated interest in Superman got me into revisiting all the previous Superman films to see how they hold up to my nearly completed prefrontal cortex college cinephile brain.
Superman (1978) showed me the incredible first leap into the superhero genre. Revisiting Man of Steel (2013) made me appreciate its ways of retelling the myth in the 21st century through Snyder's unapologetically grandiose vision of the character. Then, Superman (2025) reaffirmed my love for this latest contextualization of Superman in a world of inescapable conflict manufactured by the billionaire class and the military-industrial complex.
With all that leading up to this rewatch, Superman Returns (2006) was incredibly surprising to me with how sincere it is in not just showing Superman's lasting legacy as a symbol of hope, but also the deep melancholy of Kal-El's alienation in his return to a world that moved on from him.
This film works on a metatextual level for me because of how thoughtful it is at establishing its connection with the Donnerverse while at the same time making it fly to uncharted territories. The premise alone of Superman returning to Earth after 5 years was enough to irk a lot of people, as they felt it was uncharacteristic for their idealized version of Superman to leave in the first place. This kind of consumer mindset takes away the experience of seeing stories that challenge and reaffirm the mythos of our beloved characters.
I love that this film took its time reintroducing us to the world as this film's Superman, played by Brandon Routh, navigates it along with us. As complained by the general audience with its long runtime, the film took its sweet time showing how Metropolis has moved on from Clark Kent and Superman, especially through Lois Lane. This narrative decision is in sync with its metatextual theme of reaffirming Superman's legacy in the world, as this came out in 2006 after a decade and so's the development hell of bringing back Superman to the silver screen. What was Superman's place in the post-9/11 2000s superhero films that mostly embraced the angsty grit and edge of the decade's cultural zeitgeist? The answer was to embrace its sincerity with maturity, as the film also reminded me how Sam Raimi was able to achieve a similar tone to make his Spider-Man trilogy stand out amongst all the black leather and spandex.
This sincerity comes through in the film’s retrofuture aesthetic and tone. I was shocked to learn it was shot entirely in digital, as it captures the textured, analog feel of its world with remarkable warmth. I found myself hitting the screenshot button every time a frame made my jaw drop, whether it was the majestic shots of space flight or the simple yet effective mise-en-scène in its smaller, more intimate scenes.
Brandon Routh is an incredibly underrated Superman actor, not simply playing Clark Kent and Superman, but channeling Christopher Reeve’s iconic portrayal while making it his own. He captures the heart and soul of a familiar Superman, adding a unique touch of humanity to his performance. This is Superman at his most vulnerable and most human, not just physically but, more importantly, emotionally. Routh embodies the beautiful irony of Superman’s alienation, the very quality that makes him humanly relatable.
This Superman’s humanity wouldn’t resonate without the people around him. I want to give my flowers to Kate Bosworth, who has been unfairly criticized for her portrayal of Lois Lane. The claim that she looked “too young” to play a mid-to-late-thirties Lois never took me out of the film; she not only looked like she stepped straight out of the comics, but also infused her performance with the grief and resolve of a seasoned Lois Lane. This made each scene between Clark Kent / Superman and Lois pack an emotional punch. Clark and Lois are as inseparable as peanut butter and jelly, which makes their current distance all the more painful. Now living separate lives, they’re caught in the bittersweet reality of their incompatibility. Superman’s decision to leave Lois with his son has complicated their history even further, especially now that she’s moved on into a healthy relationship with James Marsden’s character.
"You wrote that the world doesn´t need a savior.
But every day I hear people crying for one".
Before I give my praise to this film’s Lex Luthor, it must be said: I want Bryan Singer and Kevin Spacey to rot behind bars for the rest of their lives for their vile, destructive behavior. That out of the way, it pains me to admit that this Lex Luthor channels the camp of Gene Hackman while preserving a menacing edge in his ruthless pursuit of land (and his obsession with killing Superman). Contrary to the naysayers, I find a villain who’s essentially a vicious landlord more relevant than ever. People still understate how the control of land remains at the root of our class struggle. This earnest depiction of evil is all the more fitting for Superman, as he has and always been intentionally written to be the champion of the oppressed.
I love how the film handled Jason, the secret child of Superman and Lois Lane. This could have easily gone wrong if not delicately woven into the story. Jason ties everything together in a neat bow, bringing the Superman Donnerverse full circle. Through his son, Superman no longer feels alone, as Jor-El’s parting words return to him in his own role as a father. Yet it remains bittersweet: this loneliness can’t be fully healed, as Superman can no longer raise him within his son’s new family. Is it a shame we never got more of this drama, with the planned sequel canceled? Absolutely. But Jason serves as the film’s emotional core, adding both weight and tension to the conflicts between our main characters.
Lastly, the music is just magical and really elevated the sequence to reach incredible emotional heights. Like Gunn's Superman (2025), they managed to revitalize the John Williams score to make this film worthy of having it. The film had a lot of moments where the music and the visuals took care of the storytelling without dialogue and there were moments that it brought me to tears like how they gave the original love theme a new bittersweet meaning as its now used in a confrontation between Lois Lane and Superman's formal reunion.
I feel this film was ahead of its time. The audience in 2006 wasn’t looking for an introspective take on the character yet. They groaned and called for more action and gravitas, which likely paved the way for Man of Steel and its creative choices. There’s so much to love here that I’d honestly rank it as my second-favorite Superman film, just behind Superman (2025). And on some days? I might even call it my favorite.
Maybe my dad was onto something all along. This is, at its heart, a father-and-son film, and that makes it all the more cathartic for me. I keep thinking about 2006, when I was Jason’s age and you were Clark Kent’s, and how it must have felt for you to watch this beside me.
I love you, Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t always been the best son. Thank you for raising me, for introducing me to Superman, and for showing me what heroism looks like in real life. Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to tell you, out loud, how much I appreciate you, the way I can so easily put it into words here.
