Christopher Reeve doc ‘Super/Man’ brings on the waterworks
“Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story” — 2.5 stars
The documentary “Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story” is an almost guaranteed tearjerker, but not necessarily for the reason you might think.
For many (probably most) of us, it will be sufficient that this solid and unfussy film tells the sad life story of the charming and handsome late actor, best remembered for playing the DC Comics hero Clark Kent/Superman in four popular films of the 1970s and 1980s. The franchise began with “Superman,” the groundbreaking 1978 “special achievement” Oscar winner for visual effects, and was followed by three progressively less watchable sequels. In 1995, the world was shocked and saddened when Reeve, whose post-Superman career was characterized by mostly pedestrian fare, was left paralyzed by an equestrian accident. We then watched as Reeve, with grace and grit, struggled with rehabilitation while advocating for the disabled, up until his 2004 death at age 52.
All this is covered in Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui’s dutiful and moving film, which is anchored by new interviews with Reeve’s three adult children: Matthew Reeve and Alexandra Reeve Givens (by former partner Gae Exton) and Will Reeve (by Reeve’s widow Dana, who died of cancer at 44, less than 18 months after her husband’s death).
Reeve’s own voice-over, courtesy of his audiobook memoir, adds even further intimacy and poignancy. Interviews with a handful of Reeve’s Hollywood colleagues and friends — Jeff Daniels, Glenn Close, Susan Sarandon — introduce some helpful context, as does Michael Manganiello, the former senior vice president for government relations at the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation, a charitable organization seeking cures and treatments for paralysis.
But there is little original in the way this story is told, other than frequent cutaways to CGI shots of a discreetly naked body (presumably Reeve’s), frozen like a statue yet slowly spinning in space as green crystals (presumably kryptonite) pierce the flesh. Otherwise, the film’s trajectory and tone may remind you of any of a number of similar nonfiction treatments of beloved actors brought low by health issues. The most notable comparison is to Davis Guggenheim’s “Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie,” about the actor’s ongoing struggle with Parkinson’s disease. But if “Super/Man” cues the waterworks as reliably as that 2023 Emmy winner — which blended clips from Fox’s filmography with reenactments to create a narrative that has the time-travel element of the actor’s Back to the Future franchise — “Super/Man” is much more rote.
Most of its power comes from our association of Reeve with his most famous role, a connection made explicit in the wordplay of the film’s title. The slash in “Super/Man” points to Reeve’s character, in both senses of the word, on-screen and off. The actor was great not just as the embodiment of Superman, the film argues, but as a champion and role model for people with paralysis. Brooke Ellison, a quadriplegic woman whose life story Reeve directed in a 2004 TV biopic, also appears in this film to sing Reeve’s praises.
Yet, despite the implication of its title, Reeve himself declares, “I am not a hero.” And the film does include a bit of unflattering backstory about the actor’s youthful philandering and unwillingness to commit in his relationships with Exton and their children. Exton nevertheless comes on camera to describe how Reeve’s accident brought the two families — hers and Dana’s — together. And all three children, who sit on the board of the Reeve Foundation, concur. As one of the film’s subjects says, “A hero is an ordinary person who finds the strength to persevere.” It’s a platitude because it’s true.
There is another, subtler emotional punch the film delivers. A hint of it comes early, when we watch an old clip of a young Reeve, on the cusp of superstardom, tell an interviewer, “I’ve got a wider range of roles to come, and more interesting roles to come.” He means movies and theater (Reeve trained at Juilliard). But Daniels, who was starring in an off-Broadway play with Reeve when the actor was invited to screen-test in London for “Superman,” puts it bluntly: “He wanted to prove that he was a good actor, and he didn’t have the chance to find out.” Instead, Reeve’s destiny lay elsewhere, in advocacy and inspiration.
“Super/Man” is a weeper, to be sure, for the reminder it brings to fans that this Man of Steel was only flesh and blood. But Reeve’s thwarted ambitions as an artist — the roles we’ll never get a chance to see beyond the cartoon character — are the tragedies we don’t often think about.
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Rated PG-13 for some strong language and mature thematic elements. 104 minutes.