When James Gunn was first announced as the director of Superman (2025), I viewed the move with skepticism. Gunn’s signature style seemed to be ensembles of misfit, edgy anti-heroes, as displayed in Guardians of the Galaxy and The Suicide Squad. While Guardians of the Galaxy ranks among my favorite MCU series, he felt like the wrong choice for the wholesome American hero.

I was shocked to see then how much Gunn understood the assignment.

The latest Superman film follows the titular hero in a rivalry against Lex Luthor. The film begins three years after Superman revealed himself to the world, and the story doesn’t take much time to establish his relationships with Luthor, Lois Lane, or the Justice Gang. Instead relying on clever writing and audience intuition, it immediately throws us into a series of fights against escalating threats orchestrated by Luthor to destroy his opponent.

Gunn has packed a lot into this film (perhaps too much). Yet what stood out to me by the time the film credits rolled is how much Gunn has made earnest goodness look attractive. Standard storytelling theory suggests that characters often need moral flaws and complexity to engage audiences. By that metric, Superman hardly seems to fit the bill. He always makes the moral choice, saves civilians with a smile, and at times strikes his friends as being awfully simplistic in his view of the world.

And yet I found myself rooting and cheering for him throughout the film. Because it turns out that simply being a good person is its own attraction. I was surprised to see how much my heart was pulled by such simple heroism. But Gunn relies on human experiences, not flaws, to make Superman likable. As Superman explains in a climactic speech to Luthor, his struggles, failures, and emotions are ultimately what makes him “human,” his alien heritage notwithstanding.

In many ways, the film feels like a classic Justice League cartoon. That leads to a lot of entertaining fights. Yet it also leads to a film that can feel all-over-the-place. Gunn introduces a lot of threats that are quickly resolved without much exploration (including one pivotal change to Superman’s origin story that may rile the sensibilities of viewers looking for comic book accuracy). And there isn’t much more thematic depth than your stereotypical Saturday morning cartoon. The breakneck pace of set-piece to set-piece doesn’t leave time to tease out the implications of certain decisions and dilemmas.

Yet there may be intentionality to the film’s thematic simplicity. Toward the beginning of the film, there’s an extended scene between Clark and Lois where she pushes back on his decision to unilaterally stop a war in Europe. Is it really good for him to jump into complicated geopolitical situations without researching the situation, consulting any experts, or considering the long-term ramifications of his actions? A frustrated Clark snaps back that “people were going to die” and he’s just going to do good. While another film might scrutinize this kind of moral simplicity, the film suggests at the end that Superman is right. In the face of those who use complicated rhetoric and manufactured complexity to justify evil, perhaps being a hero is surprisingly simple.

Against a superhero film landscape filled with wise-cracking heroes and the MCU’s particular blend of deconstructionist humor about their own characters, Superman dares to ask whether earnest heroism can simply be played straight. And that’s what won this skeptic over into a surprised fan. In a world dominated by cynics, perhaps we need more films that are unashamed to have irrefutably good heroes.

“You trust everyone, and you think everyone you’ve ever met is beautiful,” Lois accuses Superman of at one point.

“Maybe that’s the real punk rock,” Clark responds.

In our real lives, we might benefit from more of this kind of sincerity.