Yes, the main villain in the Supergirl movie, Krem of the Yellow Hills, is a child trafficking ogre of an intergalactic criminal who speaks with a decidedly Eastern European accent and has his own private army. It appears that Epstein class membership isn't limited to only Earthlings. Honestly, what better villain, other than a run away egotistical, narcissistic "businessman" (Lex Luthor) should represent the worst that humanity has to offer today metaphorically? Also, what better hero to destroy such a despicable excuse for a life form in Krem than a female superhero who is going through a tough time finding herself, like every single male Marvel superhero has to the acclaim of millions of fans? Replace Kara Zor El with any male superhero character and every critic bewailing the "wokeness" of Supergirl, the movie and the woman, would be screaming from the rooftops that Supergirl is a work of art. Unfortunately, many of the male critics deriding this film, whether they will admit it or not (and some might be legitimately attacking the film's flaws, which there are a scant few) are proving that they just can't handle a strong superhero film with a female lead. That's the least of the problem though. Supergirl is a tale that is not only a fun ride, but a poignant one at that. This fact is sadly being overlooked underneath all the faux-derision.
"It's too dark." "I don't know if I'd want my kids to see this movie." "Milly Alcock isn't pretty enough to be Supergirl." "Kara's from a city and Clark's from the country so that tells you all you need to know." Comments like these range from silly to pathetic and in many ways hypocritical. The Snyderbros who loved Man of Steel (which I did as well-it's simply a different darker take on a superhero that I'm not sure I would want my kids to see), review bombed Supergirl, much like they did Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman (Madame Web didn't need bombing because it was a legitimate artistic bomb). Captain Marvel was a slightly inferior film compared to Supergirl (mostly because it drug out the "origin" part of the "origin tale"), but drew the ire of "critics" because the original Captain Marvel in the comics was a man who died of cancer in a touching story. Also, Brie Larson's comments somewhere along the lines of "don't watch it if you don't want to" in reference to the film, meaning if you can't handle a strong female superhero, or at least a more level playing field of men and women actually being superheroes, don't watch it. Par for the course, one of the comic books store owners relatively close to where I live proudly boasted, "She said don't watch it...so I didn't!" like it was a badge of honor, sadly confirming part of the following:
Comic book readers for decades had a negative connotation about them that suggested that they were involuntary celibate, socially awkward with girls and guys, friendless, or just plain weird. This wasn't always the case as Amazing Spider-Man was a favorite among college students, as a read, back in the 1960s when the hero debuted. With the subsequent cartoons and immature 1960s Batman television series, superheroes became the stuff of kids (even though many of the animated adventures of comic book heroes were leaps and bounds ahead of their time-stylistically and storytelling wise-see Spider-Man 67). Comics rose to a new level of artistic credibility with writers like Alan Moore and the now semi-canceled Neil Gaiman's works in the late 1980s. Once their titles became critically acclaimed, many discovered, in retrospect, that works from writers like Chris Claremont, Mike Baron, and Ann Nocenti were also sophisticated and artistic as well. Even more interestingly, a wide audience of readers discovered that there were plenty of powerful, compelling, and heroic female superheroes as well on the racks. Characters like Spider-Woman, who has a bit of a tragic origin story herself, in her first issue contemplated stealing can food to survive while tears ran down her face. She forswore this minor crime though to pursue getting a job and becoming a force for good, thus earning her daily bread in the pages of Spider-Woman #1 and beyond. Many female superheroes like Spider-Woman went through dubious and life lesson affirming origins that rivaled their male Marvel Universe counterparts. So why is it that Kara Zor El is being derided for following what basically is the Marvel (and her cousin's in Man of Steel) blueprint for realistic heroes and villains who just happen to fly etc?
Many teenage and twenty something men and women go through crises of identity and engage in activities that they later look back on in their lives and cringe over. Seeing Kara go through these types of trials isn't an outlier. Good storytelling is often based upon a protagonist's journey through self discovery, change, mistakes, and ultimately achievement. It's a literary device called The Hero's Journey and it's been a staple of relevant, enlightening, and just plain good storytelling at least since The Odyssey. Kara's story is realistic, gritty, laced with touches of humor and compassion, but most of all it's human. Again, we thrill to Spider-Man's onscreen trials and tribulations and pull for Loki to do the right thing (another hero's journey type of tale as it's related in the Marvel Cinematic Universe). Why then do many of us as fans dump on the same type of tale because the heroes' name ends in "girl" instead of "man?" It's a damn shame that there are still elements of this type of misogyny running rampant in fandom.
The film isn't perfect. Few films are. Ruthye's (the young victim of Krem's whom Kara mentors and helps avoid a dark fate) luck is a bit incredible as she manages to sneak onboard Krem's warship with ease while it is taking off and ends up in a cell right next to anti-hero (with a heart) Lobo who becomes instrumental in her and Supergirl's triumph over Krem and his minions. Some complain that Supergirl, as a super powered hero, is too "on and off" with her superpowers. She suffers from the effects of not only a red sun, but a green one, as well as poison (that metaphorically can be seen as a date rape drug). This only makes her more compelling as a hero though as she has to resort to saving the day without simply punching her way through it. This isn't a flaw in the storytelling; it's a masterful move.
Finally, the metaphor that resides at the heart of all superhero tales worth watching, reading, and enjoying is that the hero's super powers are a metaphor for each individual reader's own personal "super power," which is their natural or developed talents and how they use them. Spider-Man uses his powers for self service early on. Wolverine struggles to control his rage, which when properly directed makes him a powerful hero and man. Batman turns his grief and rage at the murder of his parents into a force to help end the criminality in his city. Kara, uniquely among theses heroes, eschews her powers (her metaphoric talents), opting to travel to planets where she is powerless to indulge in selfish self medication, but learns over the course of the story that not only her powers, but her upbringing and background can serve her better in doing the right thing rather than the easy, selfish thing. She can find joy and purpose in being who she is instead of running from it. How many in today's world would make said world a better place if they used their talents (their individual "superpower") for good instead of selfish aggrandizement?
That is the message of Supergirl. It's a great one that can apply to anyone, male or female, who has ever had a crisis of self identity or faith. That's why the film is a great one also. The fact that she gets to pummel the hell out of child traffickers is just icing on the cake. Kara, and the film's viewers, get to have this cake and eat it too. Something anyone can do by heading the lessons of Kara's journey and applying it to themselves.
