Released the year before I was born, Superman was no doubt the first film I ever saw—and for a while, it was everything. I had the duvet, the lunchbox, the posters. At that age, I didn’t know who Marlon Brando or Gene Hackman were, and I certainly wasn’t clocking Trevor Howard or Glenn Ford. All I cared about was Superman. And he was real.
Watching again, forty years later, I wasn’t expecting to love it this much. It’s exposition-heavy, sure, and the Krypton prologue is pure Brando bait. What surprised me most was Margot Kidder. Knowing her now as a scream queen from De Palma’s Sisters, Black Christmas, and The Amityville Horror, it’s wild to think she was cast as Lois Lane. Back then, horror stars didn’t get to pivot into family blockbusters—not unless they were already household names. That kind of genre leap was rare then, and still feels unusual now.
And Christopher Reeve? Let’s be clear: Superman is Christopher Reeve, not the other way around. No superhero has ever been cast so well.