A true sequel, despite the nineteen-year hiatus since the fourth and final appearance of Christopher Reeve in the part. (The new Superman and his new Clark Kent alter ego, the little-known Brandon Routh, not only bears a creepy physical resemblance to Reeve, but also patterns his performance on Reeve's so closely as to constitute an "impression.") The major advantage of a true sequel, namely sparing us the necessity of going back to square one, has been somewhat offset, however, by the modern mania for mythic, epic, operatic grandeur, puffing up and dragging out every little thing. We still have to sit through a flashback to Superman's childhood discovery of his powers amid the cornfields and haystacks of the Kent family farm. And there's still a wait of three-quarters of an hour until the first quick-change from dumb Clark to Super-Duper. The Lois-and-Clark business remains as absurd and as boring as ever: take away the glasses, curl a forelock, et voilà! And Kevin Spacey's incarnation of Lex Luthor, though sneerier than Gene Hackman's, is still too campy and condescending to be taken seriously, even when his apocalyptic vision of world domination is enacted on a toy-train set, or even when it's enacted on a full-scale Metropolis. Nevertheless, the special effects of an ocean-floor shockwave rippling beneath the city are well done, and not overdone, and Superman's superpowers have indisputably been enhanced by CGI: a point-blank bullet, for example, flattening itself against his Eyeball of Steel. For people, whoever they may be, who might honestly have wanted another Superman movie, this is at most a serviceable one, and at the same time a most inefficient one. Kate Bosworth, James Marsden, Frank Langella, Parker Posey; directed by Bryan Singer. (2006) — Duncan Shepherd
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