Man of Steel

Superman's had an up-and-down movie history. In 1978, the Salkind brothers, Christopher Reeve, Richard Donner and John Williams teamed up to convince us that "a man could fly" with Superman. By Superman II, Donner was gone but the others presented us with the more action-oriented half of a great pair of superhero movies that were also great movies. Then came the third and fourth installments of that series, about which no more need be said.

In 2006, Bryan Singer directed a semi-reboot called Superman Returns, starring Brandon Routh as Krypton's last son. It had a number of issues and didn't re-start the franchise. So when Zack Snyder took the reins for Warner Bros. latest attempt, he shucked the whole set of continuity attached to previous films and started fresh, giving us this weekend's release of Man of Steel.

For the most part, Snyder's choice was the right one. One of the problems Singer had was trying to stay within the Salkind-Reeves continuity, even though he ditched the idea that movies three and four ever existed. But the first two movies were a product of their era -- the contrast between the hopelessly square Clark Kent/Superman and the hip, swingin' 70s helped define the character. When Reeve has to do a double-take at one of 1978's pay-phone alcoves -- which offers nothing like the privacy of a phone booth to make his change and handle a job for Superman -- we instantly get that in a lot of important ways, Superman is a product of a different worldview, not only a different world. Singer's choice to continue that storyline -- even though the 1970s have been over for a loooong time -- drains his version of much of its context and color. The sketchy plot and grimly bland performance from Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane didn't help him, either.

Snyder chooses to re-start Superman's story, beginning with his escape from Krypton as baby Kal-El, fired off in a rocket to Earth by his parents (Russell Crowe and Ayelet Zurer) just before his home world explodes. We switch from there to an adult Clark Kent (Henry Cavill), wandering around the northern Pacific in different laborer jobs, here and there using his great strength to save people before disappearing into anonymity. Flashbacks to his life as a boy in smalltown Kansas illustrate how he got where he is, as he learns a little of his history and is guided by his adoptive parents, Jonathan and Martha Kent (Kevin Costner and Diane Lane). Snyder's flashback sequences succeed in doing what 10 seasons of the TV show Smallville never could: Show us how Clark Kent becomes Superman by showing how a boy's father and mother teach him to become a man.

Snyder understands, as did Donner, Reeve and the Salkinds, that the key to connecting with Superman is not Superman, but Clark Kent. None of us (I imagine), have to figure out how to conceal super-strength, X-ray vision and the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but all of us have to try to figure out our place in the world and how to handle what life brings us. The first two-thirds of Snyder's story hang on that idea, and that makes the movie work.

An encounter with an ancient Kryptonian scout ship shows Clark his origins, but before he can do much more than enjoy his newfound power of flight (Cavill's grin here is one of the highlight grace notes of the movie), an alien ship enters Earth orbit. Aboard, the Kryptonian General Zod (Michael Shannon) issues a demand that Earth produce the Kryptonian living among them or face severe consequences. Now Kal-El will need to thread the needle between Zod's ambitions and the suspicions and fear of his adoptive world in order to thwart the former and save the latter.

Snyder mostly succeeds -- all of his leads perform well, including Amy Adams as Lois Lane. The story gives her a more important role than just being dropped from a great height in order to be saved by Superman. Cavill communicates the loneliness of an alien who can be in but not of the world around him, and Shannon is a Zod who is all the more dangerous because he's as much driven by his own need to fufill his duty as by world-dominating desires. The CGI punch-fest that finishes the movie could probably have been trimmed by a third and thus improved, but it offers a realistic glimpse of what this kind of force expended in a major city might affect.

Some of his scenes recall other, more recent slam-bang spectacle movies. Superman battling armored villains and destroying much of a small town echoes Thor's battle with the Destroyer in 2011's Thor, Zod's endgame machinery resembles Nero's space drill in 2009's Star Trek, and so on. But there's only so many ways you can do those sorts of things. Snyder's full-tilt depictions of the literally awesome strength of his title character don't bode well for a Justice League movie -- anything big enough for Superman to need help against it is probably a threat so cosmic audiences won't be able to connect with the story.

The only real issue I can take with Snyder's complete blank-slate approach is his choice to eschew John Williams' iconic "Superman March" in his soundtrack. Hans Zimmer's score is indistinguishable from most every other heroic-spectacle style movie released these days, relying on same same kind of rapid-fire staccato strings that back up the Avengers and Iron Man in their respective outings. Williams' song probably trails only the cape and the big red "S" as icons of the World's Greatest Superhero, and the decision to head another direction is a misstep.

Snyder and company are already on board for a sequel, and screenwriter David Goyer is also signed for the planned Justice League movie. The irony here is that Man of Steel will get the followup Superman Returns didn't, even though the latter got a better critical reception. Based on the character's movie history, we can hope for a great sequel. But if someone suggests, say,  Chris Rock or Dave Chappelle as a computer genius for a third film? Run, Zack. Run like the wind.