That’s right. Plural. HEROES. Heroes who believed they could make a man fly, heroes who believed they could make Christopher Reeve walk, and heroes who didn’t care if he did either of those things ever again—they just loved him.
The kryptonite to the gut of this film is the home movies. There is footage never seen by anyone outside the Reeve family. Private moments that are deeply personal, and yet universal.
“Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story” gives us the kind of truth the S on his chest stands for.
‘I am not a hero. I’m not that man.’
Most of the world met Christopher Reeve when he flew off the big screen and into our hearts in the winter of 1978, with those piercing blue eyes, that disarming smile, and a simple Midwestern rural boy scout desire to help. The fame was instantaneous. So was the pressure to be just as perfect in reality.
“Everybody’s looking for a hero,” he said, “I am not a hero. That was a part. I played the part. I’m not that man.”
If you are looking for a movie about a perfect man, this is not that film.
If you want to know what combinations of things in life could possibly create someone with the kind of inner strength and belief in tomorrow that he showed in literally the darkest times one could imagine, buy your ticket now. And bring “a friend.”
You will see a boy raised in a series of broken homes by a stern father he could never please. (Even upon winning the role of Superman, his father was disappointed in him. He thought his son had earned the starring role in George Bernard Shaw’s play “Man and Superman,” not a silly comic book movie).
You will see a man who promised himself he would never make his children grow up in a fractured household, yet made the decision to walk away from a 10-yr relationship and two children, only to fall in love with another woman six months later and begin a new life with her on another continent.
You will see a man who did not want to be a burden to his family after his paralyzing accident and asked his wife to consider letting him go. You’ll see Superman want to give up.
In short, you’ll see the flaws in the perfect hero, and I submit to you that makes this film even more perfect.
In partnership with all three of Christopher Reeve’s children—two by his long-time partner Gae Exton, a British model and agent he met in the late ‘70s while in England filming the first Superman film, and one with the wife with whom he would spend the rest of his life, Dana Reeve—filmmakers Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui trust that we can handle the truth. In so doing, they allow us to feel what the family really felt, not just the expected arc of “struggle/success/tragedy/victory” that has become the bland glossy biopic diet of modern stream-bait.
We have an almost uncomfortably close front row seat to the frail man being lifted from bed to chair to rehab pool to exam room, unable to breathe without mechanical means, unable to feel his wife hold his hand (while having the courage to speak honestly about his grief at never being able to make love to her again), unable to speak more than a few words at a time, a prisoner in a body which once hung fearlessly on wires over New York City and now can only gaze out his office window at the grass where his children play—and he never will again.
There are many powerful moments where we in the audience feel near survivor’s guilt.
He deserved better. For the symbol of truth, where is the justice in this?
‘It’s a Greek tragedy!’
When Mario Puzo, author of “The Godfather,” was hired in 1975 to write the script for a big-budget Superman film with (gasp!) “realism”, he visited the offices of DC Comics to ground himself in days of research among the most knowledgeable Superman writers of the day—Elliot S! Maggin and Carey Bates. As the story goes, Elliot and Cary spent two days in a conference room with Mario going through countless comics and discussing the rich drama and pathos of the legend, when Puzo looked up and exclaimed, “Wow! Superman is like a Greek tragedy!”
He was more right than he knew.
One of the most tear-jerking moments in “Super/Man” is the interview where Will talks about losing his mother Dana to lung cancer (although she never smoked) only 16 months after losing his dad to an aggressive infection (just when Chris was finally regaining mobility in his arms and legs). Will was barely a teenager. Suddenly he was an orphan.
Robin Williams and Christopher Reeve were practically blood-brothers. They were friends since their 20s when they roomed together at Julliard. Robin talks about coming to visit Chris in the hospital as soon as he could, disguised as a Russian Proctologist “here to examine you.” That visit did more than merely lift Chris’ spirits. It made Chris realize “I could still laugh.” That, and Dana’s whispering to him at his lowest moment when he was contemplating ceasing life-support, “You’re still you,” gave him the will to continue. Robin would often throw parties for Chris. The two families looked out for each other. Chris meant just as much to Robin as Robin did to Chris.
Then Chris was gone. Then Robin was, too.
And we felt another gut-punch when, during Glenn Close’s interview, she said, “I always felt that if Chris was still around, Robin would still be alive. I believe that.”
In 2000, five years after the accident, a Super Bowl commercial for Nuveen Investments aired showing a simulation of Christopher Reeve (with his approval) walking again. It was meant to inspire support and raise donations to cure spinal injuries so one day thousands of people could walk again, but instead caused a backlash from much of the spinal injury community. Some went so far as to say Chris was in denial, that he was a spoiled celebrity who raised false hope, that he was undermining the efforts of those who were trying to accept their reality and make a life for themselves from their wheelchairs…
This wasn’t justice.
An MRI scan after Christopher Reeve’s accident revealed that if he had landed on his head one-sixteenth of an inch to the left, he would have died instantly. If he had landed slightly more to the right, he would have likely suffered a concussion and been able to walk again within weeks.
This is tragedy.
In a tragedy, a noble hero goes from good fortune to bad, ultimately dying. The point of a Greek tragedy, Aristotle said, was to use this hero’s death to create an emotional effect in the audience, a purifying emotional release he called catharsis. A tragic hero is neither totally good or evil. He must be “a character between these two extremes.”
Which Chris was.
What the audience learns from their catharsis is, and should be, deeply personal.
In that, this film succeeds beyond the dreams of Icarus.
See it
If you are a life-long Superman fan—if you have read and seen everything about “Superman: The Movie” and Christopher Reeve—see this film. There is new content here for the most ardent fan, and the love and respect of the man and the myth is in every frame. Even the title’s logo uses a Kryptonian crystal for the forward slash.
If you are a caregiver—if you know the reality of being the unending support for someone who depends on you completely—see this film. You will see yourself. You will see hope. You will see strength.
If you live with a spinal injury or similar challenge—see this film. You will feel seen. You will feel understood. You will feel championed.
On March 30, 2009, less than four and a half years after Christopher Reeve’s death, President Barak Obama signed into law The Christopher and Dana Reeve Paralysis Act. It promotes research, rehabilitation, and quality-of-life initiatives for the millions of Americans living with spinal cord injuries and paralysis.
People are walking today because of the research that the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation helped make happen. You see some of them in the film.
When Will Reeve lost his mom so soon after his father, the older half-siblings took care of him. Matthew acted as a father figure. Matthew and Alexandra’s mother, Gae Exton, loved Will like her own son, and to this day, they are still close. Gae appears in the documentary and is touching in her courageous reliving of memories with Chris—both joyous and painful.
Dana Reeve never left Chris’ side. After his death, she continued the work of his foundation so much that her name was added to it after she passed away in 2009.
In the end, Superman didn’t give up. After nine years of very little hope, he created hope—and not just for himself.
If you are someone who loves movies about heroes—see this film.
This is a true story about heroes.
And what does it take to turn one hero into many heroes?
A single “S.”
“Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story” is in theaters in the U.S. on Wednesday, Sept 25th—the day Christopher Reeve would have turned 72 years old.
It will be released by the streaming service Max at a later date.
The film currently has a perfect 100% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes from both audiences and critics.
