For those who know me, you know I’ve been a DC fanboy for as long as I can remember. As a film critic and entertainment journalist, I’ve championed DC for decades, even when the films themselves have been far from perfect. I simply love these characters. Even when a movie didn’t fully work, I could almost always find something worthwhile that made me comfortable recommending it to others. The quality has certainly varied over the years, but there was usually something to appreciate.
I remember seeing Batman & Robin in theaters multiple times when it was released. Is it a good movie? Absolutely not. But it’s campy, ridiculous fun, even if Batman and Batman Returns are superior in almost every single way. The original Superman and Superman II starring Christopher Reeve remain iconic classics. Meanwhile, Superman Returns and Man of Steel both have their share of flaws, but they took creative risks and attempted to tell stories that stood apart from one another. Whether you loved or hated those films, they at least had distinct identities.
James Gunn is a filmmaker whose work I genuinely admire, and alongside Peter Safran, I was optimistic about this new era of DC. That said, I’ve never viewed Gunn as someone who consistently delivers great films. I loved the first Guardians of the Galaxy, disliked the second, and was more positive than most on the third. I never connected with Peacemaker, but I found The Suicide Squad to be an enjoyable, if uneven, comedic adventure.
Last year’s Superman wasn’t a film I loved, but I appreciated parts of it. David Corenswet was an excellent choice to play Superman. While I personally still prefer Henry Cavill and Christopher Reeve, that’s simply a matter of taste, not a criticism of Corenswet’s performance. Rachel Brosnahan was terrific as Lois Lane, and Nicholas Hoult eventually won me over as Lex Luthor. I wasn’t particularly invested in many of the supporting characters, and the overall story never completely worked for me, but my review ultimately landed right on the edge of being positive. It was never a movie I would tell people to completely avoid.
That brings me to Supergirl.
This is the first DC film in a very long time where I genuinely found almost nothing to enjoy.
The movie feels completely soulless, almost as if it were assembled by artificial intelligence rather than crafted by filmmakers with a singular vision. The plot is paper-thin, the pacing is erratic, the editing is sloppy, and characters are introduced and discarded so quickly that it’s difficult to become invested in anyone. Everything feels scattered, underdeveloped, and emotionally hollow.
I’ve seen many people praise Milly Alcock and Jason Momoa’s performances, and I honestly don’t share that opinion. Do they give everything they can with the material they’ve been handed? Absolutely. But there’s simply not enough there for either performance to leave much of an impression. They’re trying to elevate material that never gives them the opportunity to shine.
What disappoints me even more is that I love Craig Gillespie’s work. Yet almost none of his filmmaking personality is visible here. The energy, visual style, and character-driven storytelling that define his best films are nowhere to be found. Instead, Supergirl feels like a movie that passed through too many hands, leaving behind something that lacks a clear creative identity.
Ironically, the strongest creative fingerprints on this film belong to James Gunn. You can see his influence throughout the film: the ragtag group dynamic, Kara’s similarities to Star-Lord as an emotionally damaged protagonist masking pain with sarcasm, the reliance on a soundtrack to inject personality into scenes, and recurring Gunn trademarks like abused animals and children imprisoned by villains. Those elements have worked before because they were supported by memorable characters, sharp writing, and genuine emotional payoff. Here, they simply feel like familiar ingredients without the heart that once made them effective.
Yes, Krypto is still adorable, but a cute CGI dog isn’t enough to carry an entire film. The soundtrack doesn’t help matters either. I found the acoustic rendition of Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle” to be completely distracting and oddly out of place during the fight sequence in which it plays. Rather than enhancing the moment, it pulled me out of the movie. It almost felt as though the filmmakers originally had a different song in mind but couldn’t secure the rights and settled on this instead.
What makes Supergirl so disappointing isn’t that it’s different from what I wanted. I have always admired DC for taking creative swings. The problem is that this swing never works. It lacks compelling storytelling, memorable characters, emotional weight, and a clear artistic voice. For someone who has defended DC through its highest highs and lowest lows, that’s perhaps the biggest disappointment of all.
After sleeping on the film, I am truly in awe of how bad Supergirl is. I keep seeing people say, “There’s no way it’s worse than Madame Web or The Marvels,” but I genuinely think it is. Those movies aren’t good, but at least they have moments that are entertaining or memorable. Supergirl doesn’t even have that. I was bored within the first ten minutes, and it never recovered for me.
It’s clear that this new era of DC is the universe James Gunn wants to build. In many ways, it reminds me of the early days of the Snyder era, when the DC films were largely driven by Zack Snyder’s vision. The difference is that Snyder’s plans were constantly interrupted by studio interference, with Warner Bros. repeatedly changing course in hopes of finding a formula that would satisfy both critics and audiences. Sometimes those pivots worked, and sometimes they didn’t. Gunn, on the other hand, appears to have the creative control that Snyder never truly had.
While this new era of DC clearly isn’t for me, I genuinely hope Warner Bros. commits to Gunn’s vision and sees it through. That’s ultimately what frustrated me most about the Snyder era. The studio never fully committed to the filmmaker they hired. If you’re going to hand someone the keys to an entire cinematic universe, then let them build it. Not every project is going to be a hit, and not every creative decision is going to appeal to everyone. That’s the risk you take when you back a singular creative vision.
From a business standpoint, that doesn’t mean writing blank checks forever. Set reasonable budgets, establish expectations, and give the creative team a defined runway. If multiple projects underperform financially, then it’s fair to reevaluate the strategy. But changing direction every time one film stumbles almost guarantees an inconsistent franchise.
I’m probably never going to connect with Gunn’s version of DC, and that’s okay. Clearly, many others already do. But let’s not pretend this approach is fundamentally different from the SnyderVerse. Both are filmmaker-driven interpretations of DC. The biggest difference is that, so far, Gunn has been allowed to execute his vision without the level of interference Snyder experienced.
I sincerely hope audiences connect with Supergirl more than I did because I genuinely want DC to succeed. I want this new universe to flourish, even if it ultimately isn’t made for me. But after decades of finding something to appreciate in nearly every DC movie, Supergirl is the first one that left me with almost nothing to hold onto.
Grade: 3/10
