Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman Returns

Before Man of Steel was a gleam in Zack Snyder’s eye and we had any idea how the DCEU would look, and certainly before we had any idea of who Kevin Spacey and Bryan Singer really were offscreen, Superman Returns was at best a divisive movie. To some it was a charming throwback to the Donner era; to others, a gluttonous mess of a vanity project for Singer with no respect for the comics. There are not too many genuinely divisive comic book films; by that I mean, when you think about it, how many movies in the genre have an opinion right down the middle? Certainly not something like Batman v Superman, where although it has many fans, the divide is something like 80/20 against. The closest one can recall might be the Ang Lee Hulk movie, where even though I can admire it for personal reasons, admit it was a noble failure. But that’s the key difference between something like that and Superman Returns, released in the summer of 2006 to much fanfare by critics but met with bewilderment from a nonplussed public.

For all their faults, with most bad superhero movies one can say “Eh, I didn’t care for it, but at least they were just trying to entertain us.” I don’t know if that’s true for Superman Returns. While one must separate the artist from the art, Bryan Singer’s motives are inextricably linked to the making of this film, and Kevin Spacey’s camera-mugging performance is unfortunately a sinister window into what he later was revealed as. The film was supposed to be the start of a new era for Superman, but instead ended up being the last vestige of the old guard. Indeed, it’s the last part of the Christopher Reeve blu-ray collection, with 1978-2006 inscribed on the cover like an epitaph on a tombstone where Superman cinematically dropped dead. Its failure led to a complete reboot and overhaul of the series, leading directly to the DC Extended Universe. Would its success have changed DC movies otherwise? Might we have gotten Justice League a decade earlier? We’ll never know, but taken on its own merits, it’s fascinating to explore just what Superman Returns meant at the time, and what it has turned into now.

After five years away from Earth to search for the remains of his home world Krypton, Superman returns to his adopted planet. But he finds, in his absence, that the world has moved on without him. Lois Lane is (almost) married with child and is receiving the Pulitzer for an article she wrote entitled, “Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman;” Lex Luthor has been released from prison and is up to his old schemes involving a grab for land; even old Ma Kent has moved on and is engaged to neighbor Ben Hubbard, or at least she was before her scenes from the film were deleted. Superman feels more alien than ever and is without a place on any planet; he can’t return home, can’t find a way to fit in again on his adopted world. But when the city needs him, the Last Son of Krypton rediscovers his calling and finds his place amongst humanity by figuring out his purpose, where perhaps he is needed most and indeed does truly belong.

The film was distinctly a part of the era it was made in (Clark’s hairstyle in particular could exist in no decade other than the ‘00s), and yet it feels like a part of the past, a throwback to a bygone era, which it is. Like Superman himself, both an outsider to Earth and a stranger to his native Krypton, Superman Returns aimed to belong to the modern pantheon of comic book blockbusters while simultaneously resurrecting the Donner/Reeve series. But it couldn’t be both. Where it failed was in that it was so completely, utterly not what the audience of 2006 wanted. In the wake of both 9/11 and the silver-screen reinventions of Spider-Man, X-Men and Batman for a new age of fans, audiences wanted Superman to complete the square, and be reintroduced in all his glory in a thrilling new film series. And in what is largely one of the ONLY instances, ever, in which an audience was open to a reboot and not a sequel to a comic film, Singer made a capstone to Superman 2 from 25 years previous that didn’t really fit in the same universe, bewildering viewers everywhere. What was this? He wasn’t comic Superman, that was for certain, but he also wasn’t really the Reeve Superman, either. For instance, how did Clark get Lois pregnant if we’re following that continuity (spoilers, for a 12-year-old flick)?

Either way, audiences were positively starving for a Superman reinvention along the likes of Batman Begins and Casino Royale– as indicated by how successful both those were- and were left sorely disappointed, with WB realizing the massive error they had made after the fact, and trying to course correct to diminishing returns ever since. Christopher Nolan may always have insisted on his Dark Knight series being standalone, but had that trilogy not been the only game in town, a Superman reboot done right might have started the DCCU (or the DCEU, whatever) earlier than Marvel with Iron Man. It might’ve changed the game, and we might never have seen Ryan Reynolds’ hideous portrayal of Green Lantern, might not have gotten Man of Steel or Batman V Superman at all, might have even seen George Miller’s aborted Justice League project as a result. Who knows? The implications are vast.

My own opinion on the film is immaterial, but I will say I have never had such a strange reaction to a picture before. I initially was disgusted with it, came to admire its charm and overlook its shortcomings, started to like it, and then hated it even more in hindsight when I see what the film resulted in in its wake. Lest you think I’m being unfair on that last point, I’ll say what it resulted in immediately was a not very good Superman movie. The movie itself is frustratingly close to being good. One would not call it a Shakespearian failure or anything nearly so melodramatic; perhaps a Nixonian failure might be more apt? As Oliver Stone put it in his biopic, “Greatness was within his grasp…” The failures are made even more wince-inducing because they’re not for lack of ability. They’re deliberate, selfish choices from the director on-down that spoils the entire enterprise.

The film sets up a beautiful, compelling premise: what if Superman left for five years and then returned to the world, after 9/11? How would everyone, including Lois and Lex, react? There are so many things you could do with that idea, and the movie does absolutely nothing with them, squandering its own potential and betraying its principles. You could make a billion dollars with that one idea done right. But the premise is merely there to set up Lois’ 5-year-old son, and nothing more. Even that plot point is not explained, like a lot of other things. Richard White is introduced as a pilot, just so there can be a plane scene later on. Lex makes a grab for land, so that we can have a big kryptonite continent later, not so that we can do anything with his character. Things just happen, for no discernible reason, and it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

Is Superman Returns the worst superhero movie ever made? No, I wouldn’t say that. But it is the most un-like the comic source material of possibly any comic book movie out there. Even with the worst adaptations, you have to figure somebody at least read the original comic it was based on, and then details got lost along the way. Superman Returns, on the other hand, makes it painfully obvious Bryan Singer has never read a Superman comic in his life, nor his writers either (He probably also never read an X-Men comic, but that’s another topic). But wait, you might say, what about other, debatably worse endeavors, like the franchise-destroying Batman & Robin, the 1997 cinematic punching bag that’s everyone’s favorite trump card for this question? Well, if you look at that, someone clearly read their back issues before campiness overtook the proceedings. Mr. Freeze’s entire backstory is lovingly taken from Paul Dini’s rendition from the animated series, for one thing. There are many obscure character references from the comics, such as Jason Woodrue and Alfred’s long lost brother Wilfred; and even the costumes evoke the lore, such as Robin wearing the Nightwing symbol. Somebody did their homework, in other words.

Now contrast that with SR; characters are created whole cloth and add nothing to the story, such as James Marsden as Perry White’s spoiled nephew (and Lois’ fiancee) Richard; and their twerp son, Jason, sporting distressingly long hair that would send even 2000’s era Ashton Kutcher to the barbershop in horror. Basic details that someone with even a passing interest in the mythos could correct you on are done wrong, like the colors of Superman’s costume, the size of the S, and the neckline being too high. Even Lex Luthor has no resemblance to his comic counterpart at all, with Singer immediately defaulting to a get-rich-quick land scheme, and making up a half-baked plotline where Lex swindles a widow to become a millionaire, to avoid deviating from fidelity to the Gene Hackman version in any way. In fact, if one looks at the movie as a whole, all you would need to do is watch the first two Superman movies to have every last thing you’d need to know about the character to CREATE this movie, let alone watch it. Nothing from the comic that isn’t already in the Reeve films is in here, and that’s a damn shame. In fact, seeing as how Ma Kent, doing her best Aunt May impression here, was killed off in Superman 3, I doubt Singer even saw the later sequels!

Is there anything good about Superman Returns? Well, sure. Just like Batman finding out someone’s mother is named Martha, if we look hard enough, there’s a little bit of good in everybody. The idea for the story, again, is not bad, and would’ve been perfect to reintroduce Superman to a new generation while already establishing his backstory for us. It was the execution, where the very theme presented is totally ignored, where it’s a complete dud. The performances are not great- forget Kate Bosworth, and Spacey is clearly just picking up a check before he can do real-life evil upon others- but Brandon Routh does seem to give it his all. He seems to understand Superman somewhat, but lacks the gravitas and is unable to give him the fullness that a proper portrayal should have. I don’t think he’s exactly aping Reeve as some suggest, but I also don’t think he had any shelf life, and by no means should have been reused for another go-round. The simple reason, I’m sorry to say, is that he’s not that good of an actor. You could throw Daniel Day Lewis the same script, and the movie would at least have been ten times as interesting and Superman a very different character. Here, he just falls completely flat.

Superman should have a twinkle in his eye, convey enormous hope and optimism, and believe in the goodness in everybody. That’s something you can walk into an acting job with and it’ll come across in the body language. Here, Routh’s Superman doesn’t really mean or stand for anything, and his facial expressions are lifeless and just seem to convey, “I’m an actor in my first big role, help.” Line readings like: “It’s… not easy, being who I am, keeping secrets,” just sound incredibly painful in his delivery and make you feel bad for the poor guy. I mean, not as bad as for us that we didn’t get a great actor who nailed the role of Superman, but still. I would have just sent him to some acting classes, and had Mark Waid or Alex Ross just explain Superman to him for an hour; but Singer quite obviously did neither and just threw him in like a deer in the headlights due to his superficial resemblance to Reeve. Some claim that other directors have done this, notably Stanley Kubrick or David Fincher, ie, seeing the actors as props no more vital than the furniture and part of an overall machine, and not trying to direct great performances out of them. The difference is, Singer is no Kubrick, and Superman Returns sure as shit isn’t 2001: A Space Odyssey. There’s not much to say about the other actors at all, other than they look very, very awkward and confused to be there, such as Sam Huntington as a bizarre ’50’s throwback Jimmy Olsen, and Parker Posey as Lex’s live-in prostitute (kidding- kind of).

Superman doesn’t have a lot to do in this movie, and people complained he didn’t throw a single punch. To the point where they did an over-correction for Man of Steel, and all he did was punch people to the exclusion of saving anybody. Here, he at least saves people and doesn’t break anyone’s neck, but I don’t know if that’s credit the filmmakers deserve. The film badly needs more action that isn’t of the “disaster” variety, and it has a lot of dramatic parts, but they’re out of place, and would be more at home in Dwayne Johnson movies where the stock hero has no powers to utilize. The sinking ship scene is great, but has nothing to do with Superman, instead seeming like a leftover of the Poseidon remake. He doesn’t “do” anything after saving the initial plane other than lift the kryptonite continent, which slowly becomes the size of a bathroom by the end of the power lift with no explanation given. There is no indication anyone outside of the characters introduced in the Donner films exists in this universe, at all, so one doubts if it even could be part of the DC multiverse. It takes away from the wholeness of Superman as a franchise, and in a way demeans it; makes him seems exactly as boring as some of the general public complains he is when unaware of his fantastic rogues gallery, or in comparison to Batman. Yeah, I’d think Superman is boring too, if all I had to base it on was his movies.

There are some times a set piece does work though, and the music, while at times a bit wince-inducing when it comes to certain motifs, is overall magnificent and almost improves upon John Williams’ original. I’m thinking of a scene where the two work in concert perfectly: when Superman sees Lois again for the first time after five years on the Daily Planet rooftop. They go flying together, and it’s a deliberate callback to the first film, still romantic, only this time it’s sad, this time it’s mournful. The score matches it in full with a new love theme, before finally crescendoing into a variation on Williams’ original “Can You Read My Mind” in all its majesty, matching the glory of a man who can soar above clouds. It’s one of the few scenes Singer captures perfectly, as he encapsulates his theme into a few minutes without ever being overt: you can’t go home again, as you will never recapture the fleeting joy of what made something so special the first time around. It’s nostalgia. Ironically, he should have looked to that very message for the fate that would befall his entire movie, but I digress.

This scene also leads to the film’s best exchange, where Superman apologizes for leaving and tells Lois he’ll always be around, which gets a callback at the very end, and sets up the best line for later. When telling Lois why he left, she explains that Clark suggested that maybe he left without saying goodbye because it was too painful for him. “Maybe Clark’s right,” he replies, although she doesn’t believe him. Near the end, when he has to jump out of Richard’s personal helicopter to face an unknown fate, Lois urges him not to go, as he could die. And in Routh’s absolute best line reading and acting, he smiles at her, very gently and sweetly and sadly, somehow saying it all with a look, and says, “Goodbye, Lois,” before he jumps out to go anyway. I truly love that scene, I must say. That’s Superman, or at least as close to the mark as they get. But it’s a good scene, no matter what movie it’s in.

There is an analysis from 2011 on another site I read that encapsulates the best of this movie perfectly; since the site was since deleted, I have no idea where it came from, but if you recognize this analysis let me know and I’ll cite proper credit. But to paraphrase, this movie is perfect in the portrayal of Superman and Lois and what they mean to each other. Superman longs to be accepted, and Lois not only accepts him, she tethers him to humanity, shows humans at their best, and genuinely exceeds his perceptions. To Lois, Superman is a walking, living validation of everything she fights and strives for as a reporter. He is the hope she has for goodness in the world, personified. When they find each other again at the end, Superman finds his place in the world, Lois finds her passion for truth and justice renewed. All is well, for they are complete and whole. That’s not word for word, but the general idea, which I admit is a great thought, even if I give more credit to the writer than anything intended in the movie. I don’t think that’s exactly how they leave them at the end here, nor do I think the interpretation even occurred to Singer or the writers, but it’s a good one!

It’s remarkable how much of a definitive ending Singer set up this film to be. Like, there is no room for a sequel whatsoever. Superman defeats Lex for good. He divests himself of his Kryptonian heritage once and for all to discover a place for himself on Earth where he truly is needed and belongs. And, in finding he has a son, the film has perfectly set up the series to end here on a warm and fuzzy note and not continue, ever. Where was the son plotline supposed to go exactly? That’s a franchise ender. It’d be one thing if Superman was married to Lois; since she’s already with Richard, he can never be with her and the kid without breaking up their family, which he’d never do. If they ignore that dynamic, where’s the kid/Lois supposed to fit in, besides Superman still stalking them at their home with his X-ray vision? There’s nowhere to take it.

It’s almost a perfect trilogy in terms of theme with the first two Reeve films, if you accept the last one will be necessarily crappy I guess. Throughout the three, Superman struggles with Luthor/his place on Earth/his loyalty to Krypton. All three are tied up by the end. It would have made a great ending back in 1983 or even as recently as 1998 one might presume, but not for a series with so many false starts and stops. The biggest letdown is, we never got to see a film Superman that adapted the Post-Crisis Byrne era. We went from a Pre-Crisis based series (Reeve), to this, to an adaptation of the New 52 for the next generation (Man of Steel). Oh well, we’ll always have Lois & Clark, I guess. “Wrong!” say others, like Luthor yelling in the child’s face. This film just kind of exists in an ether, neither fish nor fowl, never sure of what it wants to be but hoping it’ll be accepted, much like Kal-El in the story.

But worst of all, it betrays even its own themes and the message it tries to set up. Perhaps WB wanted to ‘Harry Potter’ it up a bit and things got lost in the shuffle, we’ll never know. But it never answers the very question it poses, or should I say it answers it in the sloppiest, most unsatisfactory way possible. The central question is, obviously, does the world need Superman? And we never find out. We never get any insight into the minds of the public or citizens of Metropolis at all; we never even know how they felt when he left, beyond Lois. They immediately seem happy he’s back, everyone loves him, nothing is even asked to be forgiven so it all seems good. Yes, they clearly did miss and need Superman, because no one rejected him! It’s a lazy, pointless way to avoid answering the central conceit, so that Spacey can mug the camera in his white winter coat some more. If there had been any kind of a struggle, any kind of sense the public resented Superman, their heavy heart when he appears to sacrifice himself at the end might carry more weight. But wouldn’t you know it, another movie came along to do that exact same thing a few years later, and if that movie isn’t called Batman v Superman Dawn of Justice, my name isn’t Martha!

For all its faults, BvS was kind of thorough, if one could call it that, in that we saw all the talking heads throughout questioning Superman’s place in the world and mistrusting him. Whether you agree with it or found it stupid, it at least set up that version of Bruce Wayne’s point of view so you could understand why he’d hate Superman enough to begin with, if for no other reason than sharing the public’s view through sheer inertia. This makes it feel earned at the end, when both Bruce and the world don’t realize what they’ve had until it’s gone, and mourn Superman and are ashamed of themselves when he dies. I thought it was spectacularly wrong-headed to kill him off, but if they were going to do it, it at least felt like they set up the theme in the correct way. Which again, if you stretch it real thin, is that there’s a little good in everybody!

In this movie, the same attempt ends with a thud, Superman sacrifices himself in some kind of Christian allegory before falling to Earth with his arms outstretched, and has seemingly croaked. But he gets better, rushes the movie to its denouement, and then winks at the camera in a final shot so uninspired that everyone must’ve left the theater let down. Superman’s “death” is so sloppily thrown in here, possibly by a mandate to include a nod to the Death of Superman story, like how there was seemingly a DC clause that every time Superman is introduced to the public in any media, he must be saving an experimental space plane (See Bryne’s run, Lois & Clark, the animated series, Birthright, Secret Origins, Smallville, this movie, and on and on)!

Anyway, another problem with the story is the lack of responsibility everyone takes. When Supes “dies,” Lois isn’t ashamed of her behavior in the least, even though she’s sort of responsible for his predicament by flagrantly putting herself (and her child) in harm’s way. Luthor gets no kind of comeuppance for his actions, seemingly to just set up his “crowd pleasing” performance for a sequel (ugh). He doesn’t even get the shit kicked out of him when Superman is powerless on the iceberg, which is such a bummer, as they were at least evenly matched for a one-on-one fight. Superman doesn’t even seem like he’s going to take responsibility for his own kid, as after he’s done giving him a soothing homily and flying off to John Williams’ score, he’s likely going to just leave him to Richard to raise. But I guess they didn’t want to hurt Richard’s feelings too much, lest he find himself wearing the pants of a cuckhold. Either way, whatever themes they strived for (blah blah, vaguely Christ-like imagery, something something) are entirely unearned. Lois decides that yes, she does need a Superman in her life, but so what? We already knew that about her anyway, and in fact the theme was supposed to be that if you can’t go home again you have to move on, but nobody seems to do that. The whole film is an exercise in nostalgia that doesn’t practice what it preaches, but positively revels in the mistakes its characters makes, so it’s hard to judge on even filmic merits as a result.

It’s also worth getting into the things that went on behind the scenes that now make this film less desirable in hindsight with each passing day, or at least tip someone over the fence they were straddling on from the side of daisies to the side of dog crap. The less said about Kevin Spacey the better, but this film was the start of his increasingly “smug” period, where each film he was in catered to the supposed star status that he had built for himself, where we’re supposed to think, that Kevin Spacey, he’s a national treasure (If you don’t believe me, check out Baby Driver)! My point is, there are other actors we may not care for, but the films they were in rarely stopped dead just to showcase an actor’s imagined earned status and reveled in it. A good example might be Tom Cruise; we know what we’re getting with him, so those that don’t care for his particular eccentricities (running, grinning, other characters remarking how good looking he is) just avoid his flicks entirely. Spacey is forced on us in several scenes that stop the movie dead, and it’s entirely inappropriate here because he was just a known actor that was Singer’s friend, not Laurence fucking Olivier. Think along the lines of Jim Carrey getting several showcases for his comedic talents as The Riddler in Batman Forever; but Spacey is not Carrey, and is not funny, appealing, nor even a good actor here. He does the character a disservice by phoning in the role, and then wasting needless screen time. But mainly because it’s Lex Luthor, you know, the greatest criminal mastermind of our time.

Luthor is supposed to be a cold, calculating bastard, a man ruined by his own ego to the point where we witness his vanity and self-destruction all at once whenever he just enters a scene. When written best, Lex should be heartbreaking to watch, because we know deep down he really does want to do great things for humanity and has the potential; but his desire for personal glory and urge to hurt others overrides those emotions. Luthor should be played with just a degree of humanity and vulnerability so that we can understand he is all of us at our weakest and most human; not a caricature who doesn’t get his coat dirty even in an action scene. Here, Spacey just plays Kevin Spacey taking the baton from Gene Hackman. He’s not even playing Gene Hackman!

It’s deeply unpleasant to watch when we know we’re looking at an accused predator, but he misses even the most basic mark, playing more Boris Badinov than anyone else, complete with his own Otis and Miss Tessmacher pastiches. I could understand if he was just a working character actor who got caught with his pants down later, but here he is playing not Lex but capital KEVIN. GODDAMN. SPACEY. The film seems to insist, shut up and love him. The love we “should” have for him seems tied up in his creepy uncle persona, and it’s problematic. We don’t even see Superman fight back during the shivving scene, nor Luthor get his just desserts, as I guess they didn’t wanna work the national treasure too hard. Although, I guess if Luthor is all about ego and vanity it’s not a bad portrayal; Spacey just isn’t in on the joke. Perhaps we could go back and have Christopher Plummer refilm all of Luthor’s scenes, and that might make it a-ok?

As for Singer, depending on when this pops up, he’s due for a day of reckoning in the court of public opinion any time now. But putting all that aside, irregardless of who he is, he made this movie for the wrong reasons. A true vanity project in every sense of the word, Warners trusted him based on X-Men, and goofed enormously. Even they themselves likely knew it when they saw the blood in the water, or writing on the wall. Singer was, in his own words, a huge fan of the 1978 Richard Donner film; he just wasn’t a fan of the comics, and it shows. I have my faults with Chris Nolan, but I at least got the sense that he read Year One, Long Halloween and a few others, and tried to adapt the Batman from the comics the way he’s been since 1986. Close enough, I’ll take it.

By contrast, it’s painful, in hindsight, to watch hopeful geeks asking Singer at Comic Con/Wondercon panels circa 2005 promoting this movie, how he might incorporate this or that from the comics into the mythos; and he clearly has no idea what they’re talking about. But worse, he tried to pretend he did, and pandered. An immediate example I remember is him forgetting Kal-El was Superman’s real name, and then putting it off like a joke as if we should just trust him. Another is how, in the secrecy involving the production, WB sent out a misleading set photo of Spacey looking menacing as Lex in an expensive business suit, giving the impression they were adapting the evil billionaire role from the comics. It’s small things, but they hurt, like a broken promise. There was such a hunger to see the comics version on the screen, and I remember the general reaction upon this movie’s release being more “shellshocked” than anything. Disbelief that after six tries we STILL didn’t have a new portrayal; profound disappointment at a wasted opportunity.

One wonders what might have happened had they gone ahead with the 2004 JJ Abrams-written version that was to star Matt Bomer (and be directed by Brett Ratner or McG, but I’m leaving that part out). At the very least, it couldn’t have been worse, as it was a true reboot, and this version resulted in a done-in-one franchise anyway. At most, the whole DC cinematic landscape might’ve been different. Say the Bomer version succeeded. Even if Nolan was a stick in the mud and refused to loan his Batman out to another series, we could have had Bomer leading a Justice League after The Dark Knight Rises with a Batman that didn’t contradict the Nolan trilogy, if not Christian Bale actually playing him. Meaning, if the Superman series ran concurrent, DC could’ve actually BEAT Marvel to Avengers and had the first team-up movie. As it was, they were continually trying to play catch-up because of the Superman Returns snafu.

All the complaints they got later on came from setting up their DCEU improperly and rushing it, but what else could they have done? They had to wait a small amount of time for Superman Returns to cool off before they rebooted yet again, and they merely had the misfortune of betting on the wrong horse when they went with Man of Steel. There’s no telling what a Bomer/Abrams set of films would’ve looked like or how it would’ve been received, but all I’m certain of is that a half-decent Superman reboot, with the charm we know an actor like Bomer could’ve brought to it, might’ve at least been accepted enough by audiences that there would have been no need for a complete universe re-do and overhaul. They might’ve just gone ahead with Justice League with a recast Batman and Superman, and said all the movies since 2005 count. We’ll never know, but the stench of this movie was so great that Warners seemed to feel the need to treat the audience for PTSD before they proceeded, and they went too far in doing so to their detriment. It’s just a fact that there was absolutely no cinematic universe to be built upon with Superman Returns, and the panicking studio made other mistakes in a bid to not repeat the past. Oops, I guess.

So did this movie mean anything to me, and by extension, does it mean something to other people? I don’t know. I have often felt like an outsider, and this movie definitely hints at that kind of portrayal of Superman, but I don’t know if it’s the best fit for him. I know I badly wanted a new Superman movie at that time in my life, I wanted to believe a man could fly, as I’m sure most people wanted as well in the fairly immediate post-9/11 world. And this movie just wasn’t it. So it feels more like a betrayal than anything else. The movie probably made as much money as it did based on the promise it seemed to offer with the synopsis, and the inexplicably positive reviews, before people caught on to what it really was. Singer has complained that he was trying to make a romantic movie about what happens when old lovers come back into your life (one hopes he was referring to lovers over the age of 18, especially when they come back), and then The Devil Wears Prada stole his audience. That’s not taking ownership though, of how he kind of screwed the franchise from the start with a total misinterpretation of what the audience desired from a Superman movie. Yes, we want a sweet romance with a good message, sure, as long as you do it right and stay true to the characters. And he did neither.

So while the world will ALWAYS want and need a Superman- even if they don’t know it- they certainly did not want or need Superman Returns. Those who love it seem to do so despite its flaws, and I guess that’s the ultimate bitter takeaway. But I wonder, am I overthinking this? Well, yes, but that’s a given. In this case, am I fueled mainly by feelings of thwarted betrayal, both by Singer to Superman and by Spacey, whom I used to admire as a great actor? Am I the spurned jealous lover, who needs to realize that you can’t go home again, especially with comic book superheroes adapted for a brave new world? I may very well be, but I think if that’s the case, everybody else consuming these properties didn’t get the memo either.