A cultural commentary on “Superman”

When people picture the earliest version of Superman, they might imagine a simple, naive hero. The all-American boy with a strong jaw and cleft chin, whose strength is matched by his innocent, rustic idea of justice. But that doesn’t tell the full story of his origin. 

To understand the 2025 film, Superman, we need to start at the beginning. 

In 1938, Superman debuted in “Action Comics #1” as the archetypal hero, displaying immense physical strength. Fascinatingly, “Action Comics #1” is set in a dark and morally corrupt world—not a simplistic one at all. 

The late 1930s were a time of intense uncertainty and darkness. Superman was born a year before WWII started and at the tail end of the Great Depression. In this first appearance, he takes on injustice in a few short stories: 

• He saves an innocent woman about to be wrongfully executed for murder by barging into the mayor’s home, 
• He saves a woman from a “wife-beater,” 
• He saves Lois Lane from gangsters 
• And he uncovers a corrupt senator. 

The comic closes by describing him as “A physical marvel, a mental wonder, Superman is destined to reshape the destiny of a world.” 

In short, the first Superman comic represented hope in a dark time, not the light in a time of hope. Superman finds himself in a world where women are wrongfully executed for murder, men beat their wives, the Mafia runs free, and corrupt senators take bribes; when the world was still recovering from an industrial-scale war and on the precipice of another.

The modernist, American boom Superman

Then, there’s a shift. In the post-WWII boom of the 1950s and beyond, the American Dream flourishes. Superman protects from the threat to a mostly idyllic American lifestyle. Fighting bad guys—“supervillains”—rather than rooting out corruption from within, becomes the focus.

The first Superman movie hit the theaters in 1978 and starred Christopher Reeve. It taught powerful lessons of identity and responsibility, focusing on Clark Kent’s (Superman’s) backstory and upbringing. 

“You are here for a reason,” his adopted human dad tells him. He’s taught the way of humility, love, and self-sacrifice. From humble beginnings in “Smallville,” Kansas, he makes the hero’s journey to Metropolis (a fictional city similar to NYC).

In the 1978 movie, clear-cut bad guys and good guys emerge. Lex Luthor is an evil, wealthy genius who will kill people for his own gain (specifically, sinking all of California so he can open new beach resorts). 

The same goes for “Superman Returns” (2006), a later film that continues the earlier series but with different actors. Superman: The Movie and Superman Returns are exemplary cases of a movement in art and ideas called modernism. Ideals of goodness, justice, and progress are championed at face value.

The postmodern “Man of Steel”

Contrast this with postmodernism, where ideals like this are broken down, portrayed ironically, and deconstructed. Man of Steel, starring Henry Cavill, was released in 2013 and exemplifies this new cultural philosophy. 

In Man of Steel, Superman’s adopted human father, Jonathan Kent, tells him to hide his powers at all costs. Rather than teaching him humility and responsibility, he communicates that power like his must never be used or discovered. 

Jonathan Kent dies in a tornado, ensuring Superman doesn’t save him so he can hide his powers. Clark then wanders the earth searching for meaning. 

Superman is portrayed as sexy, guilt-ridden, violent, moody, and morally confused. He ends up killing the bad guy, Zod, to save humanity in a long, drawn-out, grand-scale fist fight. 

A central theme in later DC movies, including Zack Snyder’s Justice League, is how many people are killed on the sidelines by Superman’s fights with bad guys. He punches Zod through a skyscraper, killing hundreds of people without a second thought. 

Postmodernism questions ideas of justice, goodness, and progress, ultimately concluding that reality is intrinsically meaningless. Throughout Superman’s history, he was shown saving innocent people from disaster with his powers. In Man of Steel, he’s not shown saving people—just violently battling the bad guys. 

Cultural commentators have noted that Gen Z and Gen Alpha are turning away from the exhausting, endless cycle of deconstructing all things noble. Where are they turning to? Metamodernism, which refers to a constant oscillation between “modern enthusiasm and a postmodern irony.” It takes the deconstruction into account but nevertheless submits to bald-faced optimism and hope. 

The metamodern, 2025 Superman

Now, we finally arrive at “Superman,” which was released on July 7th of this year. Directed by James Gunn and starring David Corenswet, it received highly positive reviews from audiences and critics alike (93 percent and 84 percent positive, respectively, on Rotten Tomatoes).  

“Superman” represents Metamodernism perfectly. Life, justice, and humanity-affirming ideals are pursued and taken at face value by Superman. 

At the same time, without telling the audience directly, “Superman” acknowledges postmodernism in the background. The film does this by maximizing the modernist sensibilities to the point of ridiculousness (but without being sarcastic). 

Here’s an example. When fighting a hundred-story monster in downtown Metropolis, Superman goes to great lengths to save a dog. Adorable, and fair enough. Then, he saves a crowd of people. Then—in a stroke of Metamodern perfection—he pauses to save a squirrel. 

He’s disappointed when other heroes kill the monster. He says they should have put it in “an intergalactic zoo,” or “at least euthanize it in a less painful way.” Take that, postmodern Superman. 

Superman’s mission to save, rather than fight, comes into focus. 

Superman bumbles a little through the movie, caught in international politics and social media detractors. The film seems to pull inspiration from all Superman genres and times, except for Henry Cavill’s postmodern portrayal. But there’s more depth to the story. 

(Spoilers ahead. To avoid them, skip down to Metamodernism and the gospel.) 

The message of Superman

At the center of the plot is a message from his alien parents from Krypton. In his space pod, they left him with a holographic message, exhorting him to serve and care for the people of Earth, but the second half of the message was damaged. Superman takes great comfort and purpose from the encouragement of his long-dead alien parents. 

Lex Luthor steals the message and repairs the data. In the second half of the message, Superman’s biological, alien parents continue their parental charge: He should rule over Earth and amass a harem of women to spread his species’ bloodline. 

The message is leaked to taint Superman’s name, who is devastated to discover his parents’ perverse plan for his life. Lex Luthor spreads fear of Superman as an alien with hidden, evil intentions. 

Here’s a sign of deconstruction: his parents’ message of love, hope, and service was really one of an alien genetic supremacy all along. However, his adopted, earthly parents, two country bumpkin folk with sensitive hearts, encourage him in who he really is. Realizing that he can choose his own character, he goes off to save humanity. 

What makes it metamodern are things like how Superman makes a small, plain-sounding, optimistic speech to Lex Luthor about what makes us human, while Luthor admits to being driven by pure envy. 

Metamodernism and the gospel

In many ways, this “metamodern” portrayal returns full circle to Action Comics #1. It portrays hope in an admittedly dark world of pervasive hopelessness. The darkness is grander—black holes swallowing up the Earth rather than a man abusing his wife—but clearly still evil as it was 80 years ago. 

The Bible presents human nature as ultimately sinful and deceitful above all else (Jeremiah 17:9). In this way, postmodern works reflect this inability to find joy and goodness in our own power. Our helpless position without God’s grace doesn’t mean that we cannot, or should not, strive for goodness, justice, and truth. 

In this way, the rise of Metamodernism represents an opportunity for evangelism and revival in the youngest generation. Exhausted by the apparent doom and gloom of the future, they seek fresh hope to combat the constant deconstruction. As Benjamin Vincent writes in his 2024 piece for Christianity Today:

‘[T]he gospel can speak a word of hope to the metamodernism mood. You are flawed, yes; you are a sinner, incapable of simply fixing yourself and becoming the person you want to be. But God’s mercies are ‘new every morning’ (Lam. 3:23), and there is deep and abiding hope found in Jesus, into whose image we are daily ‘being transformed’ (2 Cor. 3:18), and one day, ‘we will all be changed.’” (1 Cor. 15:51).”

I agree with Vincent. The rise of Metamodernism represents a unique opportunity for outreach and revival. Would you join me in advancing the gospel to a generation desperate for hope?