Superman has been through it all. He’s fought supervillains, dodged Kryptonite and outlived more reboots than most comic book franchises can handle. But maybe his biggest challenge has been keeping up with the times. As the world changed — got faster, darker, louder — so did the Man of Steel. Not just in the cut of his cape or the tone of his voice, but in who he was, deep down.

When Christopher Reeve swooped onto the screen in 1978’s Superman: The Movie, the US was coming off a bad trip — the Vietnam War, Watergate, and a crisis of confidence. Into this malaise flew a Man of Steel who saved planes, puppies and the planet, and meant it when he said “truth, justice, and the American way”.

Christopher Reeve in 'Superman: The Movie' (1978) (IMDb)

Reeve’s Superman wasn’t naive. He was sincere, clean-cut, optimistic, a Boy Scout in blue spandex who could lift a helicopter and charm Lois Lane with a grin. He didn’t just fight villains, he saved cats trapped in trees. And in a time when the world needed to believe in something — or someone — again, his kindness became its own kind of power. “You’ll believe a man can fly,” the posters promised. And people did.

The big screen went quiet for a while after the misfires of Superman III and IV (one featured Richard Pryor, the other nuclear arms). But the small screen picked up the narrative. In the 1990s, the TV series Lois & Clark turned the story into a romantic drama. Dean Cain’s Superman was less alien god and more cute guy next door in a supersuit. The series focused on the human drama more than the heroic.

Teri Hatcher and Dean Cain in 'Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman' (1993) (IMDb)

Smallville gave us 10 years of teenage Clark Kent trying to figure out who he was. Tom Welling’s Clark Kent was a flannel-wearing farm boy trying to navigate high school, first love and alien superpowers. It was less about punching meteors and more about growing pains.

Fast-forward to the late 2000s. Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy had changed the game. Grit was gold. Heroes had demons. Brooding was in (no wonder Brandon Routh as the Man of Steel in 2006’s Superman Returns, cut from the same Christopher Reeve cloth, never made a comeback). DC thought if it worked for Batman, why not everyone?

Enter Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel (2013). Henry Cavill looked the part. Strong jaw. Classically handsome. Cape that fluttered just right. But this Superman didn’t smile much. He had questions. About himself. About the world. About whether saving humanity was even worth it. In Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, he was treated like a god, a threat, a political problem. Snyder’s films were layered with messianic metaphors and post-9/11 anxiety. Could we trust someone so powerful? Did he owe the world his help — or did the world owe him understanding?

Henry Cavill in 'Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice' (2016) (IMDb)

Snyder’s take gave us a Kal-El with sharp edges. Edgier suits too. Gone were the clean red trunks and the cheery palette. In came muted blues, heavy moral dilemmas, and skyscraper-shattering battles with existential dread baked in.

There were some good moments. Cavill sold the anguish, the weight of impossible choices. But something didn’t fit. Clark Kent isn’t supposed to be haunted. That’s Bruce Wayne’s gig. Superman’s power has never just been strength — it’s kindness. He sees the good in people, even when they don’t see it in themselves. But that was what the times demanded and that was the Superman we got.

Now James Gunn has pressed the reset button. His Superman (2025), played by David Corenswet, is younger, softer around the eyes and, finally, allowed to have fun again. This is a Clark Kent who once again romances with dimples, saves squirrels from falling debris and, most importantly, believes that humanity deserves to be saved. One can debate if the film is any good in terms of the story, which, admittedly, is not really anything to write home about. But no one can deny Gunn has brought back the joy, the colour and the weirdness (Metamorpho and Mister Terrific are in the movie). Oh and Superman’s suit looks like it is straight out of the comic book.

There’s a moment in the film where Superman rescues a woman, pausing to reassure them with a laugh, before zipping off to catch a collapsing bridge. It’s small, but it’s huge. Because that’s who this Superman is — never too busy, never too broken, and never gives up. He doesn’t mope on rooftops or monologue about how hard it is to be good. He just shows up. Again and again. No matter how many times the world messes up. And the world, without a doubt, is very messed up right now.

That’s why Superman has endured. It doesn’t matter if he is depicted as an alien messiah, a clumsy reporter, a high school wallflower or a reluctant god; or, if his suits get darker, brighter, or more textured — what he represents deep down is hope. And hope never goes out of style.