I took a SoulCycle class recently (humblebrag intended) and had a bit of an existential crisis. Near the end of the 45 minutes, our instructor went on one of those patented workout soliloquies about believing in oneself and not giving up and how you should tell yourself one nice thing every day. My inner monologue went as follows: “Fuck you, you fucking fuck.”
Now, I don’t think that’s exactly what our cycle guru was looking for, but as my friends would tell you (and kindly yell at me in person), I have trouble being sincere, especially when it comes to accepting any type of earnestness in my pop-culture diet.
Read a single news story, and it’s tough to have any faith in humanity. Scroll for a minute on Twitter, and you’ll be irony-pilled into oblivion. Open Instagram, and — JESUS CHRIST, is another high-school frenemy having a kid while you’re still swiping on Hinge? It’s tough to live in this digital age and have much optimism.
And yet! Superman, the James Gunn DCU blockbuster, was a refreshing change of pace for me. And it looks like I’m not alone, at least when it comes to my chronically online (mostly millennial) peers. After years of Ryan Reynolds’ Deadpool smarm and the eventually exhausting Robert Downey Jr.-esque repartee flattening every important moment, it was nice to see a superhero exercise steeped in sincerity. This certainly isn’t new for Gunn, but it feels like the ideal superhero story in 2025, even if I was the slightest bit queasy throughout.
So, why during a time when cynicism reigns supreme — from memes of landmark news events to every brand trying to capitalize on our weariness — are audiences craving sincerity? And how do I apply it in my own life?
Superman’s Sincerity Is More Than A Plot Point
Every Superman is a reflection of when it’s released, from Superman IV: The Quest for Peace’s on-the-nose diatribe about nuclear disarmament to the clear 9/11 parallels in Superman Returns. So, it makes sense that this story made today would center on cynicism and how to navigate online attacks, making you feel like shit.
For example, there’s an entire subplot playing on the “infinite monkey theorem” that centers around typewriting monkeys being used as internet trolls, hurting Superman’s feelings. And sometimes it really does feel like that’s what’s happening on the World Wide Web.
David Corenswet plays Superman as sweaty, insecure, and overwhelmed (one of us! one of us!), literally positing that caring about people is “the new punk rock.” And the movie backs that up with something rare for these types of films, Superman going out of his way — in the middle of a climactic battle — to save a squirrel.
The fact that Superman cared equally for the kaiju that was attacking the city and a small squirrel makes him the goat pic.twitter.com/zgIp6KyNVR
— ClarkQuill97 (@CQuill97) July 22, 2025
Now, is that a little cutesy and saccharine? Sure. But it feels like a breath of fresh air compared to other superhero flicks that are solely about destruction and background characters dying gruesome deaths.
We get enough of that in the real world. And Superman goes in the exact opposite direction of the previous DC Extended Universe, piloted by Zack Snyder. At the very least, it’s something new and less dark (literally and figuratively).
Why Does It Work This Time?
Sincerely, I found this a bit much in the moment. I’m not sure if I fully rolled my eyes, but they definitely crept upwards. And yet, I know this is my fault and not Gunn and company. They’re trying to fight fire with kindness, a revolutionary act when looking at *gestures to the world* and something hard not to respect, no matter how the movie makes you feel while watching.
Superman may be more directly reflective of the times; however, it’s not even the only superhero blockbuster this year that revolves around caring more and finding a bit of sincerity in everyday life.
Thunderbolts* is similarly themed, with Florence Pugh’s Yelena Belova trying to find meaning in her everyday life. She doesn’t see the point in trying and is always one scene away from calling up her insurance to see how much therapy she can get covered. Spoiler Alert: Very little. The film even forgoes the usual fly-around-and-punch finale for a group hug. Your mileage may vary depending on whether this works for your cold, uncaring heart. And yet, this resemblance is too identical not to be noticed.
You can even look at Oscar hopeful and Toronto International Film Festival People’s Choice Award winner The Life of Chuck, starring Tom Hiddleston, a recently released sci-fi parable about how to care in the face of an apocalypse. There’s a full sequence about creating joy in an otherwise unremarkable moment; it’s the entire movie boiled down in a few minutes. The flick is treacly, overly sentimental, and made me nauseous at times; sometimes you have to stare into the abyss until you start to think nice things.
A friend broke it all down when I asked why she thinks I feel nothing but cringe in these moments: “There’s like a full emotional vulnerability that has to happen to be earnest and sincere about something. You can’t hide behind sarcasm or ‘I actually didn’t really care about it’ or ‘That’s just a joke.’ And you can’t be flippant or irreverent at the same time as a way to protect yourself from rejection or someone making fun of you.”
Okay, ouch.
Obviously, I won’t be flying around and saving any human beings (or squirrels) soon, but sometimes you need a reminder that there’s more to the world than the constant pessimism you see online. Things are bleak, yes. But read enough shitty thoughts, and all you’re left with is shitty thoughts. There’s still some good out there, and even if it takes Superman to talk about how “punk rock” he is, I’ll take all the help I can get. Vulnerability is brave. And I’ll admit that here … vulnerably.
I’d like to think that I’m getting better at being honest, and yet, this comes in small increments: One positive thought and/or one overly sentimental movie at a time. Next time I’m at SoulCycle, maybe I’ll actually try to say something nice to myself. Or, at the very least, I’ll lose one of the “fucks.”
