The first time audiences met Supergirl was in last year’s Superman – the debut film in James Gunn’s revived DC Universe.
The Last Son of Krypton’s party-loving cousin made a brief cameo at the tail end of the successful reboot by crash landing in Fortress of Solitude to pick up her superpowered dog Krypto. After a playful tussle with her unruly pup, she stumbled out with a “Thanks for watching him, bitch!” – soundtracked to ‘Punkrocker’ by Teddybears & Iggy Pop.
The song was an echo to Supes’ “kindness is punk rock” line, but also a cheeky bit of foreshadowing for the next DCU adventure, which centers on Milly Alcock’s Kara Zor-El / Supergirl – the more chaotic, sarcastic, Blondie t-shirt wearing member of the family.
This year, we meet her after an interstellar bender. She’s turned 23 and she’s really good at drowning her sorrows.
Our hot mess express meets Ruthye (Eve Ridley), a young girl whose family has been slain by a sadistic human trafficker named Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts). Ruthye wants revenge, but can’t do it without some help. A reluctant Kara agrees, but only because the evil space pirate is also a pooch poisoning prick who thought it was a good idea to spike Krypto, keep the antidote, and make off with her spaceship.
Cue: Kara going full John Wick with 72 hours until doggo demise.
Let’s get this out of the way early: Anyone who enjoyed last year’s Superman may end up feeling shortchanged by Supergirl.
At best, it’s a messy but entertaining adventure that sees director Craig Gillespie stick to James Gunn’s established formula and humour by creating a flawed mishmash of Guardians of the Galaxy and Mad Max: Fury Road. It never reaches the heights of either property, but it’s still refreshing to see a more low-stakes / non-world-ending story that is aesthetically miles away from the vibrant colours you’d expect a DCU superhero film to look like.
That said, it is a mess.
The quirkiness and broad comedy don’t mesh well with the grim setting or themes about abandonment and being defined by one’s trauma. Throughout, the rushed pacing doesn’t allow for any emotional beats to land, and the underbaked screenplay by Ana Nogueria never strikes the right balance between getting to the roots of the pain Kara is trying to drown in booze and the planet-hopping action.
It’s a damn shame, as Supergirl was inspired by the terrific comic-book series “Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow”, which did it just right. The source material explored the toll of revenge, the meaning of heroism and home, and how the scars of the past needn’t define one’s future.
Instead, we get a generic villain with ball bearings in his face (sorry, Schoenaerts, you deserved more); an initially enlivening but increasingly exhausting glorified cameo from Jason Momoa as the cigar-chomping antihero Lobo; and a familiar finale which doesn’t stick the landing by singularly failing to do justice to any thematic and emotional bedrock.
We do get, however, an eclectic soundtrack which, when it’s not coming off as a bit too riot grrl performative, features needle drops from Wet Leg, Wolf Alice, Halsey, Sleigh Bells and even Françoise Hardy.
It’s hard to argue with that line-up – even if the absence of any Blondie is baffling considering Kara’s choice of band merch…
After a strong start with the terrifically endearing crowd-pleaser Superman, it’s dispiriting that this second, wannabe-punk entry in Peter Safran and James Gunn’s relaunched DC noticeably lacks spirit. Even more disheartening is the fact that Alcock is brilliant. She’s just been perfectly cast in a film that can’t rise to her talents, and she deserved a better script for her first standalone feature.
Here’s hoping she’ll get a stronger vehicle down the line. And keep the scene-stealing Krypto on board. He may be a rambunctious little fellow, but he’s the goodest boy around, yes he is. #KryptoBro.
Supergirl is out in cinemas now.