Why James Gunn's ‘Superman' owes everything to the 1978 original

San Francisco Chronicle​

10-07-2025

In 1978, Hollywood set out to make you believe a man could fly — and, against all odds, it did.
This year's new "Superman" movie may be faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive thanks to the latest in movie magic, but it still owes a debt to its 47-year-old predecessor. Long before the Marvel Cinematic Universe reshaped pop culture, even before Tim Burton's 1989 'Batman' reset the compass for movie marketing, 'Superman: The Movie' marked the first earnest attempt to elevate a comic book character to cinematic grandeur.
At a time when audiences associated comic heroes with the campy 'Batman' TV series (1966-68), father-son producers Alexander and Ilya Salkind (1973's 'The Three Musketeers') gambled big and rolled the dice on not one, but two Superman films, shot back-to-back.
Tapping 'The Godfather' author Mario Puzo to pen a sprawling screenplay packed with enough worldbuilding to fuel a franchise, they stacked their cast with A-listers: Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor and Superman's Kryptonian father Jor-El played by Marlon Brando, who got top-billing and an eye-popping $3.7 million for less than 20 minutes of screentime.
Enter director Richard Donner, fresh off the success of 'The Omen.' He was brought aboard after a game of behind-the-scenes musical chairs saw original choice Guy Hamilton ('Goldfinger') step down.
For Donner, a versatile filmmaker with credits including episodes of the original 'Twilight Zone,' this wasn't just another paycheck nor, to quote the film itself, a 'careless product of wild imagination.' He knew he'd been entrusted with an American myth and treated it accordingly. He wrangled egos, calmed nervous executives and marshaled a sprawling, effects-heavy production around one guiding principle: verisimilitude.
That was Donner's North Star — the belief that Superman shouldn't feel like a cartoon but someone real. Someone worthy of belief.
And at the center of that belief? An unknown stage actor named Christopher Reeve.
While the studio considered marquee names like Paul Newman (offered a blank check to play any role he wanted — he passed), Robert Redford, even Sylvester Stallone, Donner saw a duality in Reeve that made you buy into the idea that awkward Clark Kent and the righteous, awe-inspiring Superman could exist within the same frame.
More importantly, Reeve effortlessly embodied the character's most important superpower: his innate decency. As the actor later said, 'What makes Superman a hero is not that he has power, but that he has the wisdom and the maturity to use the power wisely.' Reeve understood that Superman wasn't there to be worshipped but trusted. He was a friend you could count on to show up without judgment.
With a then-record budget of $55 million, the production spanned continents, with London soundstages standing in for everything from Superman's crystalline Fortress of Solitude to Lex Luthor's underground Art Deco lair beneath the bustling streets of Metropolis. Meanwhile, visual effects pioneers Derek Meddings and Zoran Perisic broke new ground to make the impossible look effortless.
When 'Superman: The Movie' hit theaters on Dec. 15, 1978, it didn't just land — it soared. Audiences were swept up in Reeve's earnest performance, his chemistry with Margot Kidder's Lois Lane, in John Williams' now-iconic score (still inseparable from the character nearly 50 years later) and in the mix of cosmic wonder and gee-whiz charm.
The film grossed more than $300 million worldwide, earned three Oscar nominations and won a Special Achievement Academy Award for its groundbreaking effects. More than that, it sent a clear signal to the industry of the viability of superhero movies. The success in turn launched a series that scaled impressive heights before its box office fortunes dwindled.
'Superman II' (1981) remains a fan favorite despite backstage turmoil that saw Donner replaced midway by Richard Lester. ('The Donner Cut,' released in 2006, would restore as much of his vision as possible.) 'Superman III' (1983) veered into broad comedy with the addition of Richard Pryor, and 'Superman IV: The Quest for Peace' (1987) crashed under the weight of budget cuts and diminishing returns.
As late as 1992, Reeve — still the franchise's emotional core — was in talks to return to the cape for another go with the Salkinds. But that dream ended after a 1995 equestrian accident left him paralyzed from the neck down. Reeve spent the rest of his life advocating for spinal cord injury research, his real-life bravery deepening the meaning of his onscreen legacy even after his 2004 death.
Today, the sustained influence of 'Superman: The Movie' is plain to see in the heart of Sam Raimi's 'Spider-Man,' in the grounded gravitas of Christopher Nolan's 'Dark Knight' trilogy and in the MCU's meticulous origin-building and mythmaking.
That influence is even more evident when it comes to Superman himself. The overly reverent echoes of 'Superman Returns' (2006) and the brooding deconstruction of 'Man of Steel' (2013) are both in conversation with Donner's vision, whether aligning with or challenging it.
However James Gunn's new 'Superman' turns out, one thing's certain: it stands on the shoulders of Donner's 1978 classic. Reshaping a comic book adaptation into a modern myth told with wonder, sincerity and soul, 'Superman: The Movie' didn't just make you believe a man could fly, it made you want to.