When a superhero film tries to be 'punk rock,' it often ends up being anything but. This is the trap that Supergirl, the latest offering from James Gunn’s DC Studios, falls into—and it’s a hard one. Personally, I think the film’s attempt to channel a rebellious, edgy vibe feels more like a misfired gimmick than a genuine statement. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the movie seems to confuse surface-level rebellion (Krypto the superdog peeing on a newspaper, a protagonist in a Blondie T-shirt) with actual depth or innovation. It’s as if the filmmakers believed that slapping on a few punk aesthetics would automatically make the film bold, but in reality, it just feels forced.
One thing that immediately stands out is the character of Kara Zor-El, played by Milly Alcock. She’s supposed to be a fresh take on Supergirl, but instead of feeling revolutionary, she comes across as a one-note rebel without a cause. Alcock has charisma, but the script doesn’t give her much to work with. From my perspective, this is a missed opportunity. Kara’s backstory—growing up in a dystopian Krypton—could have added layers of complexity to her character. Instead, it’s treated as a CGI spectacle, reducing her to a collection of cool poses rather than a fully realized hero. What many people don’t realize is that a superhero’s origin story is often the key to their appeal. When it’s mishandled, the entire character suffers.
The villain, Krem of the Yellow Hills, is another example of the film’s shallow approach. He’s a mishmash of tropes—part Mad Max, part Hellraiser, part generic space pirate—but he lacks any real menace or charisma. If you take a step back and think about it, a villain should embody a threat that challenges the hero on both a physical and ideological level. Krem, however, feels like a costume designer’s fever dream rather than a compelling antagonist. This raises a deeper question: Why do so many superhero films struggle to create villains that are as interesting as their heroes?
The plot itself is barely worth mentioning—save the dog, kill the villain, rinse, repeat. But what’s truly baffling is how a film with such a thin narrative can still feel so bloated. The action sequences are loud and flashy, but they lack any emotional stakes. In my opinion, this is where Supergirl fails most spectacularly. It prioritizes style over substance, mistaking visual chaos for excitement. What this really suggests is that the filmmakers were so focused on making the film look 'punk rock' that they forgot to give it a soul.
James Gunn once promised to bring rock-solid scripts to DC’s superhero films, but Supergirl feels like a betrayal of that promise. The dialogue is clunky, the motivations are weak, and the tone oscillates between snarky and sincere without ever landing on either. A detail that I find especially interesting is how the film tries to lean into the 'punk' aesthetic while simultaneously playing it safe. It’s as if the filmmakers were afraid to fully commit to their vision, resulting in a movie that feels neither rebellious nor mainstream.
What’s most disappointing is the wasted potential. Director Craig Gillespie, known for sharp, witty films like I, Tonya and Cruella, seems lost in this generic action spectacle. His signature wit is nowhere to be found, replaced by a desperate attempt to mimic the energy of Mad Max or Star Wars. This makes me wonder: Did Gillespie lose his voice in the chaos of big-budget filmmaking, or was he simply the wrong choice for this project?
If you take a step back and think about it, Supergirl is a symptom of a larger problem in superhero cinema—the fear of taking risks. Instead of pushing boundaries, the film settles for superficial edginess. It’s not enough to throw in a few punk rock references or quirky characters; you need a story that resonates, characters that feel real, and a vision that’s truly bold. Supergirl has none of these things, and that’s why it feels like a punk crock rather than a punk rock triumph.
In the end, the film’s biggest failure isn’t its lack of originality—it’s its lack of conviction. It wants to be cool, but it doesn’t know what cool actually means. Personally, I think this is a lesson for all filmmakers: Rebellion isn’t about aesthetics; it’s about authenticity. And in that regard, Supergirl doesn’t just miss the mark—it crashes and burns.
