When Superman Took Cues from Maverick

A drone shrieks past David Corenswet as he arcs through an artificial sky, and suddenly Clark Kent doesn’t feel invincible—he feels human in a man-made whirlwind.

In James Gunn’s Superman, the aerial ballet leans into Top Gun: Maverick’s daring choreography—tiny, buzzing drones capture every wing-beat and whiplash turn. Gunn admits, “we took a lot from films like Top Gun: Maverick,” and in that echo, we wonder: what becomes of Superman when he isn’t just soaring, but ducking and weaving like a pilot in formation?

Fragility in the Flight

On set in Cleveland, Corenswet traded gym-crunching invincibility for something softer: Clark’s awkward humanity. “This Superman fails. He stumbles. He struggles,” he confides, painting a hero who trips before he flies. It’s an unexpected tension—superpower framed through vulnerability—forcing the question: are we witnessing the origin of a man or the crumbling of a myth?

And amid stunt tech and CGI, Corenswet—described by Gunn as a “square” with a Dean Martin playlist—slips into the suit with a quiet dignity. His Clark is big yet understated, the sort of presence that “tries not to be”—until it’s needed most.

By his side, Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult) isn’t a cartoon villain—he’s a reckoner, a brain sparring with brawn. Hoult says he knew Corenswet “was perfect for the part,” and Corenswet agrees: “a superhero is only as interesting as their villain.” That interplay promises a showdown where Clark’s moral gravity is tested not by brute force, but by ideological precision.

Wrestling with Color

Gunn’s costume design nods to professional wrestlers—Superman should be bold, optimistic, even a bit playful. “He dresses like a professional wrestler…that really clicked,” says Gunn. The cape is a statement: an invitation, not a warning. In that flash of red and blue, Clark Kent becomes a messenger of hope, not threat.

But beneath the shine lies tension: Krypto surges, the Justice Gang assembles, and Gunn’s DC Universe stakes its foundations. Yet we return to Corenswet—a husband, a new father, a grounded actor thrust skyward—and the deeper question surfaces: can the world’s greatest hero bear everyday flaws?

The drone whines, the cape flutters, and Clark Kent lands—off balance, uncertain, human. We came for flight; we stay for the fall. So we ask: when Superman’s wings falter, will we still believe he can teach us how to rise?