A Star Is Born, but Supergirl Never Takes Flight

When Supergirl was announced as the second theatrical chapter in DC Studios' new cinematic universe, it felt like the perfect opportunity to prove that the franchise wasn't going to become a one-man show. After all, DC Studios' leadership had repeatedly emphasized that each filmmaker would bring their own creative voice to the universe. With Craig Gillespie behind the camera, expectations were high. Gillespie has built a career on telling stories about deeply flawed outsiders, finding humanity inside chaos rather than simply decorating chaos with flashy visuals.

Instead, Supergirl often feels like a film suffering from an identity crisis. Ironically, the movie's biggest problem isn't its cast, its premise, or even its source material. It's that somewhere along the way, the film seems terrified to sound like Craig Gillespie and desperately wants to sound like James Gunn. That's a shame because buried underneath the awkward tonal pivots, underwritten emotional beats, and uneven screenplay is a genuinely terrific superhero movie waiting to break free. Unfortunately, it rarely does.

Milly Alcock Delivers a Star-Making Performance

Let's start with what unquestionably works. Milly Alcock is outstanding.. She completely understands who Kara Zor-El is supposed to be in this version of the DC Universe. Unlike her cousin, Superman, Kara isn't the product of Kansas optimism. She's someone who remembers Krypton. She remembers loss. She remembers watching an entire civilization disappear before eventually arriving in a world that didn't need her in the same way it needed Clark Kent. Alcock carries that trauma beautifully. She never allows Kara's sarcasm to become simple quirkiness. Every joke feels like emotional armor. Every reckless decision feels rooted in pain rather than manufactured edge. She projects vulnerability without sacrificing strength, making this one of the most emotionally believable Kryptonians ever put on screen. What's remarkable is how often Alcock elevates material that isn't doing her any favors. Several scenes feature dialogue that lands with a dull thud, yet she somehow finds emotional texture inside lines that could have easily fallen flat. That's the mark of a gifted performer. She creates subtext where the screenplay often forgets to. If DC was looking for someone capable of carrying this franchise forward, they found her. They just need a prepared director.

Then there's Jason Momoa as Lobo. He's exactly what audiences expect. Every time Momoa appears, the movie gains energy. Yet his presence accidentally exposes another weakness in the screenplay. There are stretches where Lobo becomes the most entertaining person in the room, and in a film titled Supergirl, that's a balancing act the writers never fully solve.Still, the performances across the board remain the movie's greatest strength.Nobody looks lost.Nobody phones it in. Everyone commits.

If the acting is the engine powering Supergirl, the screenplay is the parking brake. The film is adapted from one of the strongest modern Supergirl stories, yet it often feels strangely reluctant to embrace what made that comic resonate. Instead of allowing Kara's emotional journey to breathe, the script constantly interrupts itself with jokes, side characters, action detours, and quirky bits designed to lighten the mood. This becomes exhausting. One moment, the movie asks us to sit with Kara's grief.The next moment, we're cutting to another gag, another colorful alien, another offbeat interaction that feels designed to remind audiences they're watching a James Gunn-produced film. The emotional momentum never has time to build. It's as though the screenplay is afraid sincerity might bore the audience. That's a mistake.Supergirl has always been one of DC's most emotionally rich characters because her pain differs from Superman's. Clark remembers almost nothing of Krypton. Kara remembers everything.The screenplay understands this intellectually.It rarely explores it dramatically. Instead, it rushes toward the next set piece.

This is where the movie becomes frustrating. Craig Gillespie is an excellent filmmaker. His best work demonstrates a remarkable ability to balance emotional realism with stylized storytelling. His films understand flawed people. They understand damaged relationships. They know when to let uncomfortable silence carry more weight than witty dialogue.

Very little of that sensibility survives intact here. Instead, Supergirl often feels like a director attempting to imitate James Gunn's rhythm instead of trusting his own instincts. Every filmmaker has fingerprints. Gunn's are obvious. Colorful ensembles, rapid-fire banter, pop-infused energy, emotion punctuated by comedy & lovable weirdos.Those techniques work because they're authentic to Gunn's voice. When another filmmaker starts reaching for those same beats without fully owning them, the result can feel like imitation rather than inspiration. That's exactly what happens here. Several sequences practically beg for quieter, more intimate direction, yet they're staged with exaggerated humor or frantic pacing. Rather than allowing Kara's emotional isolation to linger, the film repeatedly undercuts itself. It's almost as if Gillespie is directing with one eye over his shoulder, wondering whether the movie feels "Gunn enough."That's unfortunate because the moments where Gillespie's own voice briefly emerges are among the strongest in the entire film. There are scenes built around grief, loneliness, and trauma that reveal flashes of the director that many audiences expected. The problem is they disappear almost as quickly as they arrive. The DC Universe Doesn't Need Two James Gunns!!!!

This may be the film's biggest lesson. Shared universes don't thrive because every movie feels identical. They thrive because different creative voices explore different corners of the same mythology. The best comic book universes function like comic books themselves. Batman doesn't sound like Superman. Swamp Thing doesn't sound like The Flash. Wonder Woman doesn't sound like Green Lantern. Their differences are the point. If every director begins chasing James Gunn's particular tone, the DC Universe risks becoming creatively smaller instead of larger. The irony is that Gunn himself has repeatedly championed filmmaker-driven projects. That philosophy only works if directors are allowed to sound like themselves. Watching Supergirl, you occasionally get the sense that the production forgot that lesson.

From a technical standpoint, the movie often impresses. The cosmic environments feel imaginative without becoming overwhelming. The visual effects largely support the storytelling instead of replacing it. Several alien worlds possess distinct identities rather than blending into generic CGI landscapes. Yet even here, the film occasionally mistakes momentum for movement. Bigger action scenes don't necessarily create bigger emotional stakes. The most memorable superhero moments  usually aren't explosions. They're conversations, choices & sacrifices. The screenplay rarely gives those quieter moments enough room to resonate.

Supergirl is one of the year's most frustrating comic book movies because its greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses constantly collide. The performances are excellent. But the script never fully commits to the emotional complexity of its protagonist, and the direction too often feels caught between honoring Craig Gillespie's strengths and chasing the tonal DNA established by James Gunn. The result is a film that frequently entertains but only occasionally moves.

That's what makes Supergirl such a compelling disappointment. You can see the better movie hiding inside it.You can see the version where Gillespie leans into the raw emotional storytelling that has defined his career. You can imagine a film that trusts silence as much as punchlines, character as much as spectacle, and Kara's pain as much as the cosmic adventure surrounding her. Instead, we get a movie that spends too much time trying to prove it belongs in James Gunn's DC Universe and not enough time proving why Supergirl deserves to stand on her own. The cast does everything possible to make this journey soar. The screenplay and direction simply never let them reach orbit.

Supergirl Final Grade : C not trash just not awesome either