"Why are you Supergirl, and he's Superman?" is a great question posed by Eve Ridley's Ruthye Marye Knoll in the latest offering from the DC Cinematic Universe. 

Born only a few years after her famous cousin Clark Kent on the planet Krypton, there's little reason for the equally powerful Kara El-Zor to adopt her infantilising moniker (beyond staying in line with the sacred source material, of course). 

But no matter the name, wouldn't it be exciting to use Supergirl's first solo flick since 1984 to explore and subvert what it really means to be a super girl? To dissect the comic book heroine's origins and show that, maybe, the difference between a supergirl and a superwoman is purely superficial?

It would! Alas, I'm still waiting to see that particular film. As I endured Craig Gillespie's bland-as-flour Supergirl, an even better question came to mind: "Why is the titular Supergirl so diminished and dull in her own movie?"

On paper, there's little reason why this film should not work. 

Gillespie, an Australian director, helmed the blistering sports biopic I, Tonya (with fellow Aussie Margot Robbie as troubled ice-skating champ Tonya Harding), and the equally great — but far less seen — Lars and the Real Girl (with Ryan Gosling). 

And Milly Alcock, Australia's latest darling (and certified CGA Rising Star), is evidently deserving of the Supergirl role, having already impressed the world as the young Rhaenyra Targaryen in Game of Thrones prequel House of the Dragon. Her cameo in 2025's Superman, wherein she drunkenly stumbled into Clark's Fortress of Solitude to collect her dog Krypto and abruptly bounce, had me cackling and instantly wanting more.

Alcock's got oodles of star power, and her drunken, apathetic female protagonist is a rich character study that begs to be explored. Could it be, then, that the problem is the script? 

Scriptwriter Ana Nogueira does seem relatively new to the feature film writing business (but she's certainly no stranger to showbiz, having originated the role of Eliza Schuyler in smash-hit musical Hamilton). She's penned a great starting point to work with: Superman's party-loving cousin is turning 23, and to celebrate, she's going on an intergalactic pub crawl where no-one knows Brat Summer ended in 2024.

In other words, she's going to get incredibly drunk on every red-sun planet she can find! That's fun! And then what? Hmm. Well, I guess that's when we turn to the back issues of Supergirl comics and pluck out a secondary protagonist, a generic bad guy, and a morally grey bounty hunter/KISS-wannabe called Lobo. And then some stuff happens?

The side characters being completely unrecognisable to the average movie-goer is a little worrying, but not necessarily a bad thing. I'm no DC die-hard, so I'm used to needing a bit of exposition on who everyone is. The obvious appeal to a film writer is that the less everyone knows about them, the lower the expectations are. It's a pretty safe choice!

We can get to know the revenge-bound Ruthye and explosion-loving Lobo in real time, just like Kara gets to know them. I didn't even mind very much that Ruthye was a cut-and-paste model of Arya Stark, nor that Jason Momoa seems to be channelling a mash-up of Beetlejuice and Ghost Rider. I don't know why these particular characters were chosen to decorate the sides of Supergirl, but they certainly are here.

The real problems with Supergirl begin when the bad guys disable and poison her beloved dog Krypto, effectively shelving him for the entire run time. Definitely not a safe choice — and bold is not always better. 

As a way to generate an emotional hook, it's undeniably effective. However, weren't we promised a story of Supergirl and her naughty dog fighting crime together? Wasn't that the point of introducing the fabulous flying four-legged mutt in Superman? What are we doing here? WHY DID YOU SHOOT THE DOG?!

The needle drops are fun, but they just don't land the way James Gunn gets them to. Say what you will about the man, he's damn good at marrying music to moving images. A Riot Grrrl track or two wouldn't have gone astray. Instead, the choices here are just too pop-punk and clunky.

In a brief reprieve from the madness, we are gifted a solemn montage about Kara's youth on the planet Kypton. Here, Alcock flexes her talent for fictional language fluency, and David Krumholtz brings some gravitas into the fray as her scientist father, Zor-El, who sends her to Earth before their planet is destroyed. It's nice to be reminded that the whole Super family are metaphors for asylum seekers and refugees.

It's just so hard to ignore the plot's obviousness: it's less "let's re-introduce the world to Supergirl and present a thesis on the role she plays in modern society" and much more "how do we get these characters from point A to point B, and then to point C (where the explosions are)?"

The editing is not much better, jumping around from shot to shot, only existing to serve us the exposition as quickly as possible and then move on to the next expensive set piece. 

I felt rather dizzy trying to track the number of cuts and can only assume some butchering went on behind the scenes to make it more compatible with the attention spans of the TikTok generation.

The whole affair is just so disappointing. Scrambling to justify its protagonist's purpose, the film copies much of its later story beats from Mad Max: Fury Road, which is already a (much better) film that exists and can be played any time from my TV. 

Craig Gillespie's Supergirl is trying to show us that gender does not determine power, but is quite coy in arguing that point. It should be self-evident, no? It remains baffling, then, that the film pulls nearly all of its punches and emits an aura of fear that could only come from not having full faith in this superhero.

The movie being this dull despite its massive potential makes one thing clear: as long as film studios are run by men who love money and fear change, we will never get the Supergirl movie we deserve.

Supergirl is in theatres now.