As James Gunn’s Superman movie soars into theaters, I wanted to touch on a subject. Specifically, discourse around “muscle suits”. Because that’s what a grown man should be doing ahead of something cool—focusing on what another man I don’t even know (and isn’t even real) wears or not. It is totally not at all ridiculous and weird.
I’m genuinely stoked for David Corenswet stepping into the blue, red, and yellow of DC Comics’s cash cow. From the recent trailers, his Clark Kent and Superman feel authentic. This iteration of the Man of Steel harkens back to the days when he felt like a hero who would inspire hope.
Corenswet’s got a lot to live up to, though, in terms of the live-action greats on film, such as George Reeves, Christopher Reeve, Brandon Routh, and Henry Cavill. Yet, they each did things that set them apart. It appears Corenswet will do much of the same, balancing rage and independence from any institution while still longing to do good to protect the world and its welfare.
To that point, Superman’s appearance must convey what he’s about in whatever iteration he’s in.
A look at previous Superman costumes
In the comics, Superman was imposing, yet not intimidating. The muscles were outlined, but not pronounced. Over time, however, Earth’s favorite Kryptonian began to show his tone and definition through the costume, with the 1970s being a notable leap. And he changed with the times. His hair would become curlier and even longer before returning to a short length. Sometimes the “S” insignia on his chest would be red and yellow or red and black. At one particular point in the ‘90s, DC Comics added “edge” to Superman, leaving his garb black and silver.
These are case-by-case bases, as Superman in the comics usually comes around to, or consistently stays, a morally altruistic protagonist. It’s why he’s endured for almost a century at this point. He’s essentially an American icon, our own mythological hero, akin to the gods and demigods of ancient civilizations and the folktales of yore.
Animation varies with the Boy Scout superhero, nevertheless. Sometimes his appearance is simple, minimal. Humble, even. Others, he’ll be bulging out of his costume like a can of biscuits about to burst open towards an unsuspecting customer at the supermarket. For every Superman: The Animated Series, there’s an Injustice.
When it comes to live-action film adaptations, it varies. George Reeves, for example, had only subtlety—his definition was there, but only as a hint. Christopher Reeve followed the same mold, with his more toned physique barely peering through, yet it was still obvious. Dean Cain reverted to George’s style, whereas Brandon Routh in 2006 paid homage to Christopher’s portrayal and look in Superman and Superman II, albeit with the chest symbol emblazoned and strutting out from his bosom.
Tyler Hoechlin, who portrayed the iconic hero in The CW Network’s Supergirl and Superman & Lois television series, sported a costume that accentuated his musculature, although in a brighter, happier world. These costumes abandoned Superman’s red trunks and added the toned muscles from the comics.
But there’s another Superman that deserves his own discussion.
The Henry Cavill discourse
Following the disappointing box office performance of Routh’s admirable and underrated tenure in Superman Returns and the success of Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight film trilogy, Superman’s silver screen presentation shifted. Gone was the hopeful sheen of the vibrancy of before, and here was the gritty side of a dark world. Things became desaturated to fit this tone, where the world would be bleaker, more violent. This was the world of Zack Snyder’s DC Extended Universe.
Henry Cavill donned the suit and cape, and he did wondrously for what was asked of him. Onscreen and off, the energy he brought was infectious, and he fell into the role seamlessly. However, the Superman that was written for him contrasted with the way the world preferred. His suit featured muted colors, with a glistening mesh with a metallic gleam. His chest plate poked out much like Routh’s did. Distractingly, though, it seemed to enforce the idea that the suit itself was designed with its own muscle.
Joss Whedon, when finishing Zack Snyder’s theatrical version of Justice League attempted to add brightness. The colors popped, yet this didn’t fit in with what the movie was going for. Instead, it made the film look like an Avengers (2012) Direct-to-DVD bootleg, with fewer funny jokes. There was whiplash in tone, and while it was more pleasing to look at, it didn’t fit the universe’s narrative.
Each time I see this suit, I’m reminded of that SpongeBob SquarePants episode where the eponymous character buys a pair of “Anchor Arms”, inflatable biceps to give the illusion of strength and definition.
In attention to the plot and themes of his appearances in Snyder’s films, however, there’s quite a bit to dissect. Snyder, a phenomenal cinematographer, put his talents to work here. Despite this, his storytelling didn’t translate as well to some. There’s symbolism and layers, but the execution confuses or turns away some viewers while appealing to others.
Bringing this element together with the Man of Steel era suit, Superman rang hollow, like something manufactured. There was art in Snyder’s cinematic universe, but things were not connecting the way they could have. That’s why I hesitate to say it was all bad. I rewatch the films and still find something to like. There was greatness, with confusing decisions that hampered potential.
The suit also didn’t feel like it had meaning, other than the hammering home that the symbol on Superman’s chest represented hope. The frame of it didn’t even adhere to any “gaze”, only a power fantasy that if you too were buff and attractive, you could be an American demigod. If one half of this erred on the artistic side, the other half leaned on the content-slop side. There was nothing said with this. Nothing to add to the narrative. It’s a subtle thing, but goes a long way.
An Examination of This Dark Superman
Polarizing as it was, Snyder’s Superman exposed a side of the hero that the general public hadn’t seen yet. Off the heels of Nolan’s Batman films, the thought of Superman in a similar vein was tantalizing. Positioning him front and center, Cavill became a poster boy for a Superman who would cross boundaries he’d normally not in other media.
For all intents and purposes, Cavill clearly cared dearly for his role. The way he’d emote, deliver dialogue, and study to embody Superman. Cavill is, at his heart, a big comic book nerd, going so far as to play a Wolverine variant in Marvel Studios's Deadpool & Wolverine. He even abandoned his role in Netflix’s Witcher series to return in the awkwardly performing Black Adam film before James Gunn revamped the hierarchy of the DC Universe.
And yet, it didn’t even start with him. Throughout multiversal stories of the past, this precedent was long established. Frank Miller himself notoriously posited Clark Kent to be an antagonistic force in The Dark Knight Returns, featuring an elder Batman and a corporate stooge Superman. This was in 1986.
The possibility of Superman not being the good guy opened many doors. Superman: Red Son rerouted an infant Kal-El to a Cold War-era Ukraine under Soviet rule, where he became a benevolent Russian dictator. The Injustice series maddened him into a fascist ruler. If you dig deep enough, you’ll find many iterations where he rules the world, destroys it, or exists in some form as a villain or anti-hero.
Red Son gave Superman a darker shade of blue, with a hammer and sickle on his chest instead of an “S”. Injustice had the cape and insignia positioned in a regal visage to emphasize the iron fist he ruled with.
Evil or morally questionable Supermen exist beyond the mainline DC series. For example, Dr. Manhattan is the “Superman” of the Watchmen universe. If you’re a fan of The Boys, Homelander’s look is a pro-American repaint of the Man of Steel design, sans the insignia. Omni-Man from Robert Kirkman’s Invincible trades the blue and yellow for white while retaining the red.
An evergreen beacon of Truth, Justice, and the American Way, the Kryptonian became a hollow shell. Truth is offset by misinformation. Justice is difficult to find in this day and age. The American Way doesn’t mean what it used to. What Superman’s costume reflects during this period is that the people are disillusioned. Whether that’s by design or not, I can’t say.
The thing is, this switch was right for its time. That’s the most important thing to glean from this. For a while, Superman was “cool”. He’d cut a little loose, showing how powerful a threat he could be.
I’ve noticed that the zeitgeist has shifted from this perspective, which leads me to David Corenswet’s upcoming rendition.
What does David Corenswet’s Superman suit represent?
“I’m not representing anybody, except for ME!”
That’s what the titular character says in the official Superman trailer.
But in all seriousness, this question is kind of loaded. And yet I dig the suit. It’s not muscle-tight or giving any façade of one. The frame of Clark Kent within Superman surely suggests there’s strength hiding behind, but it doesn’t boast about it. It’s humble. Subtle.
There’s lining in the blue, and the red trunks are back, buckled by the yellow belt. While the Superman insignia has texture, it isn’t pushed out. Hearkening back to the “Anchor Arms” reference I pointed out earlier, Corenswet proves he doesn’t need it. He looks powerful without having to exclaim it. There’s an approachable sense of safety that a protector should have. Superman isn’t in Metropolis to spread fear. He’s there to protect the city’s people.
As seen in the trailers, Kent is as powerful as ever. But he’s also able to be hurt. Physically and emotionally. There’s agitation when Lois Lane presses him in an interview. There’s gasping and blood as he lies in the snow in an arctic region.
Looking at the suit in Superman inspires hope. And he looks like he’s from the comic books. Ripped from the panels, not trying to be anything more than Superman. He’ll have the rage and darkness of Cavill’s excellent attempts, but there’s also the heart and charm of Christopher Reeve's timeless Man of Steel.
Ultimately, as has always been the case, the suit will be defined by the man who fills it. Corenswet melts into the role, leaving the normally inhuman veneer of recent interpretations of Superman behind in lieu of a relatable representation. He’s clearly learned from Christopher Reeve in switching from Clark Kent to Superman at the flip of a coin, as seen in the interview scene with Lois.
Just as with any superhero, the appearance has to matter. It needs to lend itself to what one would expect their abilities and/or powers to be, and who they are as a character.
Superman, though simply designed, is a complex person. There are layers to him. The exploration of who he is or can be may change. One use of him may be gentler, more hesitant to cut loose. Another may cross a line to protect what he thinks is right.
As the age-old saying goes: “The suit makes the man.” Like a real fashion diva, Superman’s suits must deliver that message of hope.
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