Supergirl review – a mid-field superhero affair

For generations, Superman has been the poster boy of polished, all-American heroism. He meets his antithesis in Craig Gillespie’s Supergirl, a hungover, hot-headed vagabond carring enough emotional baggage to fill the galaxy. When we first meet Kara Zor-El (Milly Alcock), she’s hopping between planets on a pub crawl in search of the oblivion her cousin Superman would probably disapprove of. Based on Tom King and Bilquis Evely’s Woman of Tomorrow comic series, this is a superhero film less interested in saving the universe than in stumbling through it.

The story unfolds when Kara meets Ruthye (Eve Ridley), a young alien girl hunting the Brigand Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts), who slaughtered her family. Though Kara initially wants nothing to do with this revenge quest, she joins the pursuit after Krem leaves her beloved dog, Krypto, fighting for his life. What follows is an intergalactic odyssey that bounces between strange planets, dive bars and alien outposts in pursuit of one very nasty bloke.

Following her breakout turn in HBO’s House of the Dragon (2022), Alcock proves more than capable of carrying a blockbuster. That’s no small feat in a genre that has often struggled to give its female heroes the same depth as their male counterparts. Jason Momoa arrives with surprisingly little impact. His character, Lobo, feels more like a teaser for future instalments than an essential part of this one. It’s difficult to ignore the fact that he was recently the face of Aquaman in DC’s previous incarnation, making his appearance here feel more distracting than revelatory.

Gillespie’s vision of the cosmos sits somewhere between Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) and Guardians of the Galaxy (2014). Krem and his Brigands look as though they’ve wandered in from George Miller’s wasteland, all scavenged armour and biker-gang bravado. Meanwhile, the fingerprints of producer James Gunn, who launched this new DC universe with last year’s Superman, are all over the film’s dry humour and retro needle drops. The result is a lived-in, punky galaxy filled with grubby cantinas, rusting spacecraft and a parade of weird and wonderful creatures.

Yet beneath the colourful chaos and road-movie antics lies something considerably darker. The Brigands are not merely bandits but members of an all-male clan sustained through the kidnapping and trafficking of young girls. It’s an unexpectedly sinister thread running through an otherwise playful adventure, transforming this cosmic revenge romp into a broader reckoning with male violence. 

It’s still a DC superhero movie, nevertheless. Beneath the grime and personality lurk the usual familiar beats, franchise obligations and CGI-laden set pieces. Supergirl rarely rises above the genre’s limitations, but it has enough character to avoid sinking into mediocrity. Gillespie brings the same swagger that ruled Cruella (2021), embracing grunge over superhero slickness. The film won’t blow your mind, but it is a rough-around-the-edges adventure with heart.