Supergirl isn’t a bad film per se – certainly nowhere near the trainwrecks of the DCEU’s worst films. But it’s a fatally bland experience. A terrific lead performance and compelling themes carry it some distance, but not enough to evade its conflicting aesthetic choices and tired story.
Love or hate James Gunn’s Superman, it kick-started the new DC Universe with astute confidence. It embraced its comic book origins and celebrated kindness as a key virtue of Superman, leaving a lasting impression. Supergirl, the second entry in the DCU, is a noble attempt at thematically and stylistically mixing it up. Unfortunately, the final result feels more like different ingredients chucked into a blender than a recipe in its own right.
Kara Zor-El (Milly Alcock of House of the Dragon) is the cousin of Superman (David Corenswet). Like him, she survived the destruction of the planet Krypton. However, unlike Superman, Kara witnessed her family and species’ desperate, ultimately futile, attempts to rebuild following Krypton’s obliteration. Thus, when she is sent to Earth as a teenager, she becomes cynical and depressed – someone who’d rather drink her woes away instead of following her cousin’s example.
Travelling the universe on her 23rd birthday, Kara just wants to get plastered and distance herself from all but her dog Krypto. Trouble nonetheless finds her in the form of the vengeful Ruthye (Eve Ridley), a teenager whose family was murdered by notorious space pirate and trafficker Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts). Kara is initially apathetic to Ruthye’s plight – not her circus, not her monkeys. But when Krem steals from her and poisons Krypto, Kara joins Ruthye on her murderous quest – a journey that will force Kara to confront her inner demons.
In an adaptation of the classic Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow comics, director Craig Gillespie and team opt for an edgy look and feel for the picture. Dark lighting, rugged set pieces and muted colour palettes populate the screen, albeit not to the same bleak extent that plagued many DC Extended Universe movies. The bright, whirlwind craft of James Gunn’s Superman only appears on occasion here. It’s an understandable choice that reflects the characteristic differences between Kara and Superman, with the latter showing up periodically via video calls in clumsy but well-meaning attempts to connect. Kara is pessimistic and defeatist – traits born from her witnessing the deaths of her family and race. She saw the worst of the fallout from Krypton’s end, something Superman was shielded from.
Pair this with Ruthye’s own destructive goals, and the film lays solid groundwork for themes of grief and accepting the past. The characters’ feelings are validated and actualised through flashbacks and interactions with one another, but the picture champions the idea that we can still be good people even in our darkest moments. That same hopepunk energy that made the film’s predecessor so refreshing is still present; it’s just buried beneath the heroines’ sorrow. Grief is a common theme in storytelling, but exploring its dimensions in the midst of such a visually contrasting backdrop – perhaps to subtly showcase the light and dark within a person – gives this film some meaningful weight. It’s fitting that this first chapter of DCU films (subtitled Gods and Monsters) is dedicating so much time to the humanity of its protagonists.
Unfortunately, despite its admirable thesis statement, the film is largely unrefined. The clashing visuals and tones, while artistically intriguing, leave the picture feeling confused. It’s as if someone meshed together the aesthetics of Mad Max: Fury Road and Guardians of the Galaxy – a hybridisation that sounds interesting in theory, but generates tonally and visually scattershot sequences. The wacky, even at times childish, humour doesn’t mesh well with the dystopian, industrial mise-en-scène, and the otherwise grounded themes feel at odds with the goofier moments and character designs. Jason Momoa plays an alien mercenary who looks as if he’s stepped off the cover of a heavy metal album, yet spews a cacophony of blunt, immature quips. In trying to be both gritty and playful, without allowing space for the two to harmonise, the film ends up feeling awkwardly flavourless.
Hit-and-miss filmmaking and a predictable story do no favours. Erratic editing makes the movie difficult to follow at times, with many of the otherwise cool action scenes losing momentum due to an overreliance on cutaways that sometimes last less than a second. At best, it removes the action’s kinetic intensity and, at worst, it’s a flimsy attempt to disguise the poor CGI. Heavy greenscreen and digital effects stick out like a sore thumb, especially when the actors stand in centre frame. The odd imaginative setpiece stirs engagement, such as a fight scene in a space bus involving teleportation, and bursts of colourful imagery – the film does a lot with the concept of red, yellow and green stars. But it’s a been-there-done-that narrative on the futility of revenge, executed with inconsistent craft.
Supergirl’s opposite personality to Superman does a lot to help her stand out. Her suppression of anguish and mask of apathy conceal a good heart clouded by hurt. Giving her a foil in the form of Ruthye is a smart choice, too, that elevates the potency of the chosen themes. But many of the other characters are vehicles for the generic story, existing purely because the plot requires sidekicks and a bad guy. Krem, with his scene-chewing antics but utterly one-dimensional presence, makes early MCU villains look intricate and nuanced.
If there’s one constant, it’s Milly Alcock’s charismatic performance. The rest of the cast is sadly a mixed bag – Corenswet is charming, Momoa is hammy, and Ridley does her best despite clunky dialogue – but Alcock is tremendous. Juggling a recklessly carefree persona with a shrouded sense of justice and a quiet yet harrowing vulnerability, Alcock captures the role’s rich dimensions, stunningly bringing the character arc to life with her tenacious command of the screen. It’s a shame that her efforts are trapped within such a mild, redundant story, even by blockbuster standards, never mind superhero movie standards.
Supergirl isn’t a bad film per se – certainly nowhere near the trainwrecks of the DCEU’s worst films. But it’s a fatally bland experience. A terrific lead performance and compelling themes carry it some distance, but not enough to evade its conflicting aesthetic choices and tired story. One can appreciate the picture’s ambitions, and there’s some fun to be had for the right audience member. But it’s a shaky continuation of the DCU, and future entries will need to be louder in their convictions and bolder in their executions.
Supergirl is playing in cinemas across the UK from June 25.
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