‘Superman’ - Review
The discourse around James Gunn's Superman has invited a lot of debate over one particular reading: that the film is an allegory for Palestine. But the real question isn't whether the film reads as anti-Israel or even if Gunn intended for the film to be this way. It's why audiences are seeing Palestine so clearly in this story about an alien in a cape.
The Palestinian reading works because the Israeli government is repeating clearly defined conflict patterns of injustice: the powerful oppressing the powerless, colonizers displacing indigenous people for their own gain, state-sanctioned violence and human rights abuse, the rhetoric of "defense" pretending to be territorial expansion. Superman works as a Palestinian solidarity symbol because he represents something powerful enough to break the cycle of historical violence. I don’t think Gunn set out to write a pro-Palestinian film, and blockbuster cinema shouldn’t be a substitute for stories by and about Palestinians with the explicit focus and care they deserve. But that does not deny how easy it is to read Palestine within Superman.
The film starts with Superman having stopped fictional Boravia from invading neighboring Jarhanpur. Boravia has a sophisticated and heavily armed military through US support while Jarhanpur is "a poor nation that can do little to defend itself." The visual language hints to Gaza: a desert environment with citizens in vaguely middle eastern clothing, civilians fighting back with sticks and rocks while soldiers point rifles from behind a metal border fence. The Boravian leader even physically resembles Netanyahu, and the conflict is explicitly shown as a settler-colonial project aiming to displace the indigenous Jarhanpurians. This isn't subtle. It's objectively pro-Palestinian, even if accidentally so.
Superman creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster were Jewish immigrants who came up with the character at the height of fascism. They built Superman to punch up, not down. To protect the displaced against their oppressors. The character has always been most compelling when positioned against genocidal violence, and the Palestinian struggle represents the clearest current example of that violence.
Whether or not Gunn intended to comment on Gaza, audiences hungry for representations of justice naturally gravitate toward stories about powerful heroes standing up for the oppressed. If that leads them to see Superman as a Palestine solidarity superhero, that's not “reaching.” It's a valid interpretation of what being a hero means in 2025.
It’s so easy to insert our world into Superman because we are exhausted by our own powerlessness. Every day we scroll through footage of human rights violations, watch protests get ignored, and donate to fundraisers that can't keep up with destruction. We know exactly what's wrong and who's suffering but there’s nothing we can do about it. We turn to superheroes because we're begging for some sort of savior who can actually make a difference. Someone who doesn't have to work through bureaucracy in a political system that continues to fail us on a global scale. Someone who can just fly over there and make it stop. Someone with the ability to actually do something when you see people dying.
Reading Palestine into Superman becomes its own form of resistance, a way to exercise agency when all other avenues feel closed. There's power in witnessing the struggles of marginalized communities reflected in genre fiction, especially when unintentional. Art isn't static. It's meant to be reinterpreted, reframed, and reclaimed by the people who engage with it.
This is why Superman specifically matters. A character literally designed to protect the powerless becomes the perfect vehicle for our reclamation. Palestinian stories should not need allegorical cover to find their way into mainstream conversations, but when they appear in the most mainstream of heroes, it sends a message. We should actively read Palestine into our stories and keep making our own. It’s time to take back the media narrative and continue platforming Palestine.
The fact that so many people are seeing Palestine in Superman is powerful. But as we celebrate this collective recognition and reclamation, we must also make sure it stays a bridge and not a destination. These readings should lead us to seek out, platform, and support nuanced Palestinian stories and voices. The ultimate victory isn't that we can see Palestine in Superman. It's that we continue seeing Palestine forever. It’s ensuring Palestinian voices no longer need to be found in the margins of someone else's narrative.