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Jun 27, 2026 By Mark Redfern

Rarely has a film attracted so much negativity before anyone had actually seen it.

But here we are with Supergirl.

When the first professional reviews finally arrived and turned out to be decidedly mixed, they seemed to validate everything the haters had been saying for months. Spend enough time in certain corners of the internet and you’d be convinced Supergirl is one of the worst superhero movies ever made, a colossal disappointment, and a major embarrassment for James Gunn’s fledgling DCU.

The reality is more nuanced. At the time of writing, only four reviews on Metacritic are actually in the red and considered truly negative. Sixteen are in the green and positive, while another 34 fall into the yellow “mixed” category. That’s hardly universal condemnation.

Alongside The Odyssey and Spider-Man: Brand New Day, Supergirl was my most anticipated movie of the summer. But as I settled into my seat at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum’s Udvar-Hazy Center IMAX—the largest movie screen in Virginia—with my wife Wendy and our 13-year-old daughter Rose on opening night, my expectations had been tempered by months of online negativity.

Throughout the first half of the movie I kept asking myself, “Okay, so when does this get bad?”

Then I realized it never would.

Instead, I settled into a rip-roaring, planet-hopping, yellow sun-fueled space adventure ripped straight from the comics. Supergirl isn’t a run-of-the-mill superhero movie, let alone the unmitigated disaster the internet might have you believe. Set aside all that baggage and it’s a thoroughly entertaining couple of hours at the movies. It doesn’t rank alongside the true classics of the superhero genre, but it’s also far better than the online discourse surrounding it would suggest.

Much of that discourse has been fueled by the same exhausting culture war that seems to accompany almost every major franchise these days. Before anyone had seen the finished film, misogynistic posts mocked star Milly Alcock’s appearance, with memes comparing her to the feral child from Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, British actor Will Poulter, or even Cha-Ka from the 1970s Land of the Lost TV series. One of the latter was even shared by Dean Cain, who famously played Superman on Lois & Clark before later reinventing himself as a MAGA pundit.

When Sasha Calle played Supergirl in 2023’s The Flash, some fans complained that she didn’t resemble the traditional comic book version of Kara Zor-El. Never mind that she was playing an alternate-universe Supergirl or that she gave one of the best performances in the film. Now DC has cast a white, blonde, blue-eyed actress who looks far closer to the comics, and somehow that’s still not enough.

Instead, trolls cherry-picked awkward screenshots from the trailer to argue Alcock wasn’t attractive enough to play the Maid of Might. Others unfavorably compared her to Melissa Benoist, whose six-season television portrayal leaned more toward the wholesome girl-next-door version of Kara. Alcock, by contrast, is playing a rougher, more damaged Supergirl—one shaped by trauma rather than optimism.

Let’s be honest, though. Even if DC had cast the most conventionally beautiful blonde actress in Hollywood, many of these same people would have found something else to complain about. For some, the problem isn’t Milly Alcock. It’s that the movie stars a strong woman.

The backlash didn’t stop there. Some of Alcock’s interview quotes were twisted beyond recognition to suggest she didn’t want Christian fathers taking their children to see Supergirl. Others attacked her simply for describing herself as an LGBTQ ally or suggesting that this version of Kara could be bisexual—even though there’s entirely no romance in the movie.

Then there are the Snyder Bros.—fans still angry that Zack Snyder’s DC universe came to an end after Justice League. They’re understandably disappointed they never got to see Snyder complete his vision, but a vocal minority have spent years rooting for James Gunn’s reboot to fail as some kind of vindication. The irony is that Snyder himself has been openly supportive of Gunn, and the two directors are friends.

All of these groups probably represent only a small fraction of moviegoers, but social media algorithms amplify outrage, while bots—or perhaps typing monkeys secretly employed by Lex Luthor, if last year’s Superman is to be believed—ensure it never goes away.

The debate over whether Gunn’s Superman—which grossed more than $600 million worldwide—was somehow secretly a flop was exhausting enough. Supergirl, meanwhile, had already been declared a failure before it had sold a single ticket.

Supergirl herself first appeared in Action Comics #252 in 1959 as Kara Zor-El, Superman’s teenage cousin from Krypton. This movie is more specifically based on Tom King’s acclaimed 2022 comic book miniseries Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, exquisitely illustrated by Bilquis Evely.

My affection for the House of El goes back much further than that.

Seeing the Christopher Reeve Superman movies on the big screen were formative childhood moviegoing experiences for me, right alongside TRON, Star Wars, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. When 19-year-old Helen Slater put on the cape for 1984’s Supergirl, I was one of the few people who actually saw it in theaters—and loved it.

As an adult I recognize the film’s many shortcomings, from its campy villains to its frequent lapses in logic to the baffling absence of a Christopher Reeve cameo. But I could still happily watch the famous “aerial ballet” sequence—where Kara first discovers she can fly—over and over again.

When Superman Returns arrived in 2006 after a 19-year absence from movie screens, nostalgia alone nearly brought a tear to my eye. The opening titles perfectly echoed Richard Donner’s original films, right down to John Williams’ soaring score. Although ultimately the film was a disappointment.

The criticism surrounding Superman has always fascinated me because it constantly shifts. People complained that Superman Returns lacked action and superhero fights. Then Man of Steel supposedly had too much action, too much destruction, and was too dark. James Gunn’s Superman was later criticized for being too colorful, too funny, and even for Superman stopping to save a squirrel.

As a lifelong fan of both DC Comics and Doctor Who, I’ve learned that some corners of every fandom will always be unhappy—and they’ll usually be the loudest voices in the room.

For my part, I’ve always defended Man of Steel. I loved that it treated the Superman mythology seriously, I applauded Lois Lane figuring out Clark Kent’s secret identity through actual investigative reporting, and I thought the Kryptonian battles were spectacular. My biggest complaint was Jonathan Kent. I’m sorry, but Clark would’ve found a way to save him from that tornado.

Likewise, I think the theatrical version of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is a disjointed mess, while the “Ultimate Edition” is vastly improved. And yes, Zack Snyder’s Justice League is far superior to Joss Whedon’s theatrical cut—but please don’t mistake me for one of the Snyder Bros.

In fact, Gunn’s Superman became my favorite cinematic Superman of the 21st century because it combined spectacular action with genuine affection for the source material. More than any previous adaptation, it felt like a fully realized DC comic book brought to life.

I also greatly enjoyed Supergirl for most of its television run (except for the final season) and loved all four seasons of Superman & Lois. So when Gunn announced not only that DC was making a Supergirl movie, but that it would adapt Woman of Tomorrow—one of my favorite comic book series of recent years—I could hardly believe my ears.

All of which is to say that I was probably primed to love Supergirl.

I was also perfectly positioned to be disappointed by it.

The film follows the broad outline of Tom King’s comic. Like True Grit—Charles Portis’ 1968 novel and both of its film adaptations—it pairs a teenage girl seeking revenge with an older, hard-drinking companion. In True Grit, Mattie Ross seeks vengeance for her father’s murder with the help of Rooster Cogburn. Here, Ruthye Marye Knoll (English actress Eve Ridley) seeks revenge after the slaughter of her family, reluctantly drawing Kara into her quest.

Both the comic and the film begin with Supergirl traveling to a planet orbiting a red sun so she can finally celebrate a birthday by getting drunk. Under a yellow sun, Kryptonians are effectively immune to alcohol. Under a red one, they’re not. Kara hopes to numb the trauma of surviving Krypton’s destruction—a burden quite different from Superman’s, who escaped as an infant and was raised on Earth by loving adoptive parents.

Things take a turn when the space pirate Krem of the Yellow Hills (Belgian actor Matthias Schoenaerts) poisons Kara’s beloved dog Krypto before fleeing with the only antidote. Suddenly the story becomes an interstellar chase across multiple planets as Kara and Ruthye hunt Krem down before time runs out for Krypto.

Ana Nogueira’s screenplay remains faithful to the broad shape of Woman of Tomorrow, but it also knows when to chart its own course. Tom King’s comic ran for eight issues, and some of Kara and Ruthye’s episodic detours inevitably had to be sacrificed to fit into a two-hour movie.

The biggest addition is Lobo, the cigar-chomping, space motorcycle-riding bounty hunter first introduced by DC Comics in 1983. Jason Momoa, who previously played Aquaman in the Snyderverse, has spent years lobbying to play Lobo, calling him his dream role. As you might expect, he’s perfectly cast. I was also pleasantly surprised by how much screen time he gets—I went in expecting little more than an extended cameo. Is Lobo essential to the plot? Not really. Interestingly, Tom King has said he originally intended to include Lobo in Woman of Tomorrow before ultimately deciding he didn’t fit. Here, however, he provides a welcome burst of anarchic energy, and I’d be amazed if this is the last time we see Momoa playing the character.

Krem also undergoes a noticeable redesign. In the comic he’s a bearded redhead with something of a swashbuckling charm. On screen he’s leather-clad, dark-haired, heavily pierced, and looks as though he’s wandered in from George Miller’s Mad Max universe—a comparison Ana Nogueira herself has acknowledged wasn’t entirely accidental, citing Mad Max: Fury Road as an influence. He’s also been reimagined as a human trafficker.

One of the more common criticisms leveled at Supergirl is that Krem isn’t a particularly memorable villain. There’s some truth to that. Matthias Schoenaerts—who at times reminded me of a young Tim Roth—does solid work with the material, but Krem never quite becomes the loathsome figure he needs to be. Still, his actions early in the film give the audience ample reason to root for his downfall, and the emotional weight of the story has always rested more with Kara and Ruthye than with the man they’re chasing.

Another criticism I’ve seen is that the film doesn’t capture the dazzling visual palette of Bilquis Evely’s artwork and Matheus Lopes’ extraordinary colors. That’s fair to a point. The comic is one of the most beautiful superhero books published in recent years, and no live-action adaptation was ever likely to replicate it. But I also don’t think the film is nearly as drab as some have suggested. If anything, Woman of Tomorrow might be one of those rare comics whose visuals could be reproduced more faithfully through animation than live action. Even then, Warner Bros.’ previous animated adaptations of acclaimed graphic novels have often struggled to recreate the unique look of the original artists.

Craig Gillespie initially struck me as an unexpected choice to direct Supergirl. His résumé is filled more with character-driven dramas and comedies—Lars and the Real Girl, I, Tonya, Cruella, and Dumb Money—than visual effects-heavy blockbusters. But looking back, the choice makes more sense than I first realized. Cruella, in particular, shares a punky, rebellious streak with this incarnation of Kara, and Gillespie has consistently gravitated toward stories centered on complicated women.

Not every action sequence lands. A few are confusingly staged and lack the breathtaking inventiveness of the very best superhero films. Yet they never undermine the film because the emotional throughline remains intact. Gillespie always brings the audience back to Kara and Ruthye’s evolving relationship, which is where the movie’s heart really lies.

Fantastic needle drops have become almost a cinematic art form. I always think back to Martin Scorsese using the piano coda from Derek and the Dominos’ “Layla” in Goodfellas, while James Gunn has made a career out of pairing superhero action with classic rock and alternative music.

Gillespie enthusiastically embraces that tradition.

The soundtrack is packed with artists familiar to Under the Radar readers, including Wet Leg (fittingly “Catch These Fists”), Wolf Alice (“Smile”), Rilo Kiley (“Silver Lining”), Sleigh Bells (“This Summer”), Modest Mouse (“Satin in a Coffin”), and several others. Every cue feels thoughtfully chosen rather than simply dropped in to sell a soundtrack album.

I do have one tiny complaint.

Kara spends much of the movie wearing a Blondie T-shirt. The first trailer was memorably soundtracked by Blondie’s “Call Me.” The band’s Debbie Harry and Chris Stein even attended the premiere. Yet somehow “Call Me” never actually appears in the finished film.

A minor quibble, admittedly.

Through all the planet-hopping adventure, spectacular visual effects, and expertly curated soundtrack, it’s Milly Alcock who ultimately holds the film together.

Before Supergirl even opened, much of the online conversation centered on whether she looked enough like the character rather than whether she could play her.

She absolutely can.

James Gunn has said Alcock’s casting “might be the best bit of casting” he’s ever done, and after seeing the film it’s difficult to argue with him.

Helen Slater’s Supergirl was earnest, innocent, and endlessly optimistic. Melissa Benoist’s television incarnation was similarly wholesome—a female Clark Kent whose awkward civilian persona concealed an unwavering moral compass.

Alcock’s Kara is something else entirely.

She’s messy, impulsive, frequently drunk, deeply traumatized, and still trying to figure out where she belongs. She’s adjusting not only to life on Earth but also to the complicated relationship with a cousin who grew up in circumstances completely unlike her own.

One of the film’s smartest decisions is expanding Kara’s backstory beyond what we saw in the comic. Rather than merely referencing her trauma, Supergirl lets us experience it through a series of flashbacks spread across the film. These scenes add welcome emotional depth without overwhelming the central adventure.

One of the movie’s most affecting moments comes during a conversation between Kara and her father Zor-El (David Krumholtz), performed entirely in Kryptonian, as they debate whether she should follow Kal-El to Earth. It’s a surprisingly moving sequence, and it can’t have been easy to perform such an emotionally pivotal scene in a fictional language.

Alcock convincingly charts Kara’s evolution from someone trying to drink away unbearable grief into a reluctant hero who slowly rediscovers what the House of El shield actually represents.

By the time she finally puts the Supergirl costume back on, it feels earned.

More than anything, I hope the months of abuse she endured online before the film’s release haven’t left real scars. Whatever some corners of the internet might insist, she’s an outstanding Supergirl.

When I was growing up in the 1980s, my superhero action figures came from two toy lines: Super Powers for DC and Secret Wars for Marvel. At the time, Superman and Supergirl were essentially the only superheroes regularly making it to the big screen. Then Tim Burton’s Batman arrived in 1989 and changed everything.

The 1990s were still a decidedly mixed bag for comic book movies—Batman & Robin, the never-officially-released Fantastic Four, and plenty of others—but by the 2000s and 2010s the genre had exploded thanks to Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy, Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy, the X-Men films, and eventually the MCU, DCEU, and now James Gunn’s DCU.

Today, “superhero fatigue” has become a familiar phrase. We’re spoiled for choice, with multiple superhero movies and TV series arriving every year. Perhaps that’s why it’s become easier to dismiss perfectly enjoyable entries like Supergirl.

When I was a kid, movie news came from print magazines like Premiere, Entertainment Weekly, Starlog, Sight & Sound, and Empire. If fans wanted to complain—say, about Michael Keaton being cast as Batman—they had to write a letter and hope the magazine printed it.

Now anyone can post a knee-jerk reaction within seconds.

Worse still, social media rewards outrage. YouTubers, influencers, and even some journalists have discovered that rage-bait and click-bait travel much further than nuance ever will. By the time Supergirl reached theaters, countless people had already decided what they thought of it.

For those who insist that Supergirl belongs among the worst superhero movies ever made, I’d simply offer a little perspective.

It’s better than all of these comic book movies:

Superman and the Mole Men (1951), Swamp Thing (1982), Superman III (1983), Supergirl (1984), Howard the Duck (1986), Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987), The Return of Swamp Thing (1989), Captain America (1990), The Shadow (1994), The Fantastic Four (1994), Tank Girl (1995), Judge Dredd (1995), Batman Forever (1995), The Phantom (1996), Batman & Robin (1997), Steel (1997), Spawn (1997), Daredevil (2003), Hulk (2003), The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003), The Punisher (2004), Catwoman (2004), Blade: Trinity (2004), Elektra (2005), Fantastic Four (2005), My Super Ex-Girlfriend (2006), Superman Returns (2006), Ghost Rider (2007), Spider-Man 3 (2007), Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (2007), Punisher: War Zone (2008), X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009), Iron Man 2 (2010), Jonah Hex (2010), Green Lantern (2011), Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance (2011), Thor: The Dark World (2013), The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014), Fantastic Four (2015), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016), Suicide Squad (2016), Justice League (2017), Venom (2018), Dark Phoenix (2019), Birds of Prey (2020), The New Mutants (2020), Wonder Woman 1984 (2020), Black Widow (2021), Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (2021), Venom: Let There Be Carnage (2021), Eternals (2021), Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022), Black Adam (2022), Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022), Shazam! Fury of the Gods (2023), The Marvels (2023), Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2023), Madame Web (2024), Deadpool & Wolverine (2024), Venom: The Last Dance (2024), Joker: Folie a Deux (2024), Kraven the Hunter (2024), Captain America: Brave New World (2025), and The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025).

And there are plenty of others I’d rank alongside it or only slightly above it (plus, no doubt, a few bad ones I’ve forgotten). Yes, I know it’s ridiculous to list that many movies, but it’s equally ridiculous to declare Supergirl one of the worst superhero films ever made.

Most critics reviewing the film probably haven’t read Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. As someone who loved Tom King’s comic, I found myself grinning whenever one of its most memorable moments appeared on screen, even when the adaptation took inevitable liberties with the source material.

One change I especially appreciated was how the film handles Kara earning the right to wear the costume again. It can be frustrating when superhero adaptations spend too much time avoiding the superhero suit—as Daredevil: Born Again did for much of its first season—but here the payoff feels deserved. By the time Kara finally embraces being Supergirl again, she’s earned it emotionally as well as dramatically.

The sad reality is that the conversation surrounding Supergirl has become so toxic that it may ultimately be remembered as a commercial disappointment regardless of its actual quality.

That’s frustrating because female-led superhero movies continue to face an uphill battle. A vocal minority rejects them before release simply because they’re centered on women, while general audiences haven’t always embraced them either. It doesn’t help that several previous female-led superhero films genuinely have been disappointing. But Supergirl deserves better than to be lumped together with the worst of them.

Thankfully, Wendy and Rose both enjoyed it just as much as I did.

This isn’t another Batgirl. Warner Bros. hasn’t locked it away in a vault for a tax write-off. Supergirl exists now, and future audiences will have the chance to discover it free from the baggage that surrounded its release.

Just as importantly, this isn’t the end of Milly Alcock’s Kara Zor-El. She’s already confirmed to return in Man of Tomorrow, James Gunn’s next Superman film, and reportedly will play an important role in the DCU movie that follows. Even if another solo Supergirl adventure proves a long way off, thankfully this version of Kara isn’t going anywhere.

I suspect history will ultimately be kinder to Supergirl than the internet has been.

No, it isn’t one of the greatest superhero movies ever made.

But it also isn’t remotely one of the worst.

I’d happily give it an 8/10.

Don’t believe the haters. Don’t believe the trolls. Don’t believe the misogynists. Don’t believe everyone who rushed to declare the movie a failure before opening weekend.

Judge for yourself.

And if you disagree, write me a letter.

www.supergirlmovie.com

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