Superman: The Movie (1978)

Where my Superman retrospective begins with... uh... one of the most discussed movies ever...

With James Gunn’s Superman about to fly into theaters… okay, I’ll stop the puns… it seemed like a good time to go back to the beginning. Well, back to the cinematic beginning, that is—of America’s very first pop culture icon and the origins of modern superhero movie culture, which has seen its fair share of ups and downs since 1978.

Once I started typing, however, I realized Richard Donner’s original Superman: The Movie is one of a handful of classic films that has been discussed endlessly in print and media over the years. The troubled production, the warring producers, Donner being fired halfway through shooting the second one… Brando… all the tabloid behind-the-scenes fodder for this film is ingrained in my consciousness forever.

And the film itself—iconic to the point where certain discussions bear no new fruit. Going over the plot and traditionally reviewing Superman: The Movie is a fool’s errand. At this point, it’s like trying to find a new angle on The Godfather, or bringing something new to the table regarding Jaws. The space has been explored, and we’re reaching the corners of the conversational universe surrounding these iconic '70s films.

So rather than attempt a fresh analysis of Donner’s classic, it feels better to take a more casual approach—a more personal reflection on a movie that’s been present for my entire life. Like so many kids my age—those of us teetering on the border between Gen X and Millennial—I saw Superman: The Movie after seeing (and loving) Superman II. The sequel was omnipresent on TV when I first became conscious of television and storytelling, and it wasn’t until a few years later that I finally saw the original.

Superman: The Movie does not totally work. It has flaws—glaring flaws—but the wholesomeness of the direction and the way everything sings beautifully in rhythm through the middle ninety minutes has carried the film to iconic status.

The early scenes on Krypton are very cool. Brando may not have memorized a single line, and he might say “Krypton” funny, but he knew his gravitas would be more than enough to pull off Jor-El. Everything about this opening Krypton sequence works well—even if the introduction of Zod and his crew sort of disappears for the rest of the movie—and when we crash-land in Smallville with baby Kal, Geoffrey Unsworth’s cinematography softens. The edges glitter with diffuse golden light in Smallville, creating this wonderful, idyllic vision of rural America.

And then teenage Clark shows up, and… what in the hell happened here? This isn’t entirely Jeff East’s fault. The decision to dub his dialogue with Christopher Reeve totally steals any chance East had at delivering a solid performance. What’s left is a teenage Clark who seems pouty and distant and wooden—because it’s clearly not his voice emanating from these scenes. I do think him punting the football is awesome, though.

Whatever wonkiness the movie suffers from in these earlier sequences dissipates the moment Christopher Reeve appears on screen. There has never been someone more built to play a character than Reeve, and that applies to both Superman and Clark Kent. No other iteration of this character has paid much attention to Kent, but Reeve does everything in his power to make Kent seem nothing like Superman—at least as far as humanly possible.

Other films seem to skirt past any attempt to make Clark Kent someone other than Superman in glasses. I get it—the idea that nobody would recognize him is one of the more absurd leaps of logic we must simply accept as a culture to enjoy a certain story—but Reeve’s attempt is delightful. The way he slumps his shoulders, narrows his eyes, looks at the ground, the way he stutters… when he is Clark Kent, Christopher Reeve is playing a different character.

Superman’s first heroic act—saving Lois from the dangling helicopter—is still a terrific action set piece, and the very obvious “set” aspect of the scene makes it all the more charming in 2025. And then, the montage of Supes saving the day all over town. There is nothing better than the montage of our hero stopping crimes and saving citizens.

Gene Hackman is tremendous as Luthor, as are Ned Beatty as Otis and Valerie Perrine as Miss Teschmacher. The villain trio is unmatched, which makes it a bummer in the second one when Beatty and Perrine are sidelined forever.

The back half of this movie feels more like a James Bond film at times, but the vibe works with Superman in the mix too. As for the reversing-the-world bit? It still doesn’t work. It’s never worked. But what does work in that moment is the pain and anguish Superman feels seeing Lois dead in her car. The face he makes is burned into my brain permanently:

The passion in this moment carries you through the extended scenes of all the damage caused by Luthor simply going in reverse, and it’s over before you’ve had a chance to really consider the absurdity. No matter—Reeve sells the moment.

As messy as Superman: The Movie is at times, the three leads of the film are so iconic and so perfect for their respective roles that they carry us through any missteps. It is also fascinating to consider the road these Reeve movies traversed over the next decade, and how the oddities across all the films—and the way they seemingly deteriorate from film to film—make this one of the most interesting sagas in cinematic history.