I have always found a lot to identify with in Clark Kent. We both grew up in tiny farm towns in rural Kansas. We were both refugees from far-off worlds. He from Krypton and I from California. We were both picked on for being different than the other kids. We both learned that there is a certain way one does things in Kansas.
If you’re going to get Superman (David Corenswet) right, you have to get Kansas right. And what James Gunn’s new Superman film gets right about Kansas is its trustworthiness, its helpfulness, and its kindness. Though the time the film spends in Kansas may be limited, its truth is reflected in the new versions of the Kents and how the boy they raised conducts himself in the world.
You Can Trust A Kansan To Be True
When we talk about the legendary “moral code of the midwestern farmer,” we think of Jonathan and Martha Kent. In virtually every iteration of Superman across his nearly 90 years of publication, it is the principles and the guidance that the Kents provide to their adopted son that ensure he is the world’s greatest protector, rather than its greatest threat.
In the oldest Golden Age versions, the Kents are mere footnotes beyond having successfully kept the young space-baby. His upbringing on a remote farm is used more to explain how Clark Kent was able to escape notice and master his abilities away from prying eyes. These early versions, though, carry with them the American cultural investment in the archetype of the hardworking farmer. This perception goes back to the Kansas settler era, during America’s westward expansion. In that long-gone day, settler communities relied heavily on the assistance of their neighbors in times of crisis. There was little to no help available from the wider world, and so the popular idea of the rugged individualist who was prepared for any problem found fertile soil.
The archetype the Kents inhabit was inculcated in Superman co-creators Siegel and Shuster by the political and artistic environment of their time. FDR’s New Deal campaign relied heavily on promoting and identifying with “the common man.” The school primers of the day were replete with passages from stories like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, which upheld the residents of rural communities as the epitome of “salt of the earth.”
The Golden Age Kents are presented as inheritors of this legacy, and the reader of those early comic strips was expected to draw the popular conclusion about what this meant for Superman’s moral compass.
In the Silver Age of the 1950s, when DC took to more regularly publishing the adventures of Superman during his formative years as Superboy, the Kents transformed into the quintessential elderly couple, modeled after the sort of small town that television beamed into Americans’ homes every week with The Andy Griffith Show, with Smallville a stand-in for Mayberry. This version of the Kents left their farm behind for the town’s General Store, a perfect hub from which young Clark was able to keep his ear to the ground about anything and everything happening about town (and an ideal precursor to his job at The Daily Planet). Like their Golden Age predecessors, these versions of the Kents would not survive to see their son live out his destiny.
In the post-crisis “Modern Age” from which the new film draws much of its tonal inspiration, the Kents are alive and well when Clark makes his super-debut, even consulting on the creation of his costume and super-identity. He regularly returns home for comfort and guidance, creating some of the most heartwarming moments in the character’s canon. To the point, unlike his earlier iterations, the modern version of Clark can trust that the people who care for him and know what he’s doing will be there for him. His relationship with his parents has taught him that, even if his relationship with Lois Lane (Rachel Brosnahan) may be in a place that causes him to question it.
Frontier Justice Means The Strong Protect The Weak
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Superman interferes in the conflict between Boravia and Jarhanpur. Why? Because it’s the right thing to do. When you see a strong party bullying a weak one, you step in to stop it. Even when the downstream ramifications might cause even more trouble.
Consider the man who would’ve been one of Kansas’s most notable figures when Siegel and Shuster were coming of age: John Brown. The famous (and sometimes infamous) abolitionist is credited by many historians as being responsible for the true beginning of the American Civil War. Brown captured and hung the members of a slave patrol who had come to Kansas in search of fugitive slaves, which led to open hostilities along the Kansas/Missouri border and the burning of both Lawrence, Kansas, and Springfield, Missouri.
Brown never once expressed regret for his actions, despite the eventual cost in blood, because he believed he was acting on behalf of what was right. Like Clark explains, “I wasn’t representing anyone except for me! And, and, and… doing good.”
Gunn’s Clark shows this same sort of single-minded commitment to direct action in service of “the right thing.” It’s the simple moral absolutism that eventually leads one version of the comic character from Kingdom Come by Mark Waid and Alex Ross, which inspired Corenswet’s portrayal, to say, “there is a right and a wrong in the universe, and the distinction is not a difficult one to make.”
Kansans Care For Kin With Kindness
The most important contribution the Kents make, across most modern interpretations, is the source of Clark’s humanity: his heart.
Most versions of Superman are defined by the advice Clark’s parents give him. In Richard Donner’s 1978 movie, Jonathan Kent tells his son, “You are here for a reason, and it’s not to score touchdowns.” In Zack Snyder’s 2013 Man of Steel, his father counsels secrecy and withdrawal, with his mother telling him he owes the world nothing. In James Gunn’s Superman, the Kents’ counsel to Clark isn’t ever explicit, but is implicit in their short interactions with him.
The Kents make sure that their son knows that they care. Immediately following his fight with The Hammer of Boravia, Clark’s parents call to check on him. One could be forgiven for looking at this as a security faux pas… For a Kansan, when one’s son has just been in a fight and gotten his behind roundly handed to him, you call to check on him. Why? “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
That loyalty, imbued in him by his human parents, is central to Clark’s decision-making throughout the film. He persistently places himself in ever-greater danger to help others.
Clark is loyal to his human family and his own humanity but also demonstrates tremendous loyalty to the best parts of his Kryptonian heritage. He risks further harm to his reputation by openly confronting Lex Luthor to save Krypto. This, as it turns out, is out of loyalty to his cousin, Supergirl, played by Milly Alcock (though, as some commenters have suggested, ensuring Kara’s dog is safe and sound on her return is undoubtedly in the best interest of keeping humanity safe).
He understands his responsibility to be a good example.
We repeatedly see Clark check himself on the verge of swearing (though he’s not perfect about it). He clearly comprehends his position as a role model for not just children in his world but for people at large and the superhero community as a whole. He tries to convince Mr. Terrific (Edi Gathegi) to find a safe and humane way to contain the kaiju during the second act’s big battle, hoping to figure out a way to remove it without killing it so that they can study it.
The new Superman film isn’t perfect, as a sizable contingent of fans on the internet is sure to point out. It does get some essential things correct. It understands that Superman’s real strength lies not in how much he can lift, how fast he can fly, or how hot his vision can get. It lies in his roots in the American heartland, and the moral code embedded in him by the true, just, and upright people who raised him.
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