Even before James Gunn’s Superman debuted earlier this month, the right-wing, conservative backlash rose up to proclaim that Gunn’s adaptation didn’t adhere Superman’s ideology, calling it “Superwoke.” I do not want to argue about that here because I have written about Superman’s initial appearances before and how he has always pushed back against oppressive systems and championed immigrants. One need only look at Joe Schuster and Jerry Siegel’s first story that would become Superman, “The Reign of the Superman.” Instead of focusing on the discussion of Superman as “woke” or not, whatever the hell that means now apart from a fear mongering word to trigger individuals, I want to zero in on moment early in the film that, for me, helps to encapsulate so much of the film itself.

In the scene, Lex Luthor has just revealed the other part of the message that Superman’s parents recorded for him before the destruction of Krypton, and Superman goes to Lois Lane’s apartment and they talk about who he is and what the message means. Lois tells him that she believes him when he says that even though his parents, supposedly, tell him to rule over humanity, she doesn’t believe he would ever do that. (I say supposedly here because we never know, in the film, whether or not the latter part of the message is real of if Luthor manipulated it.) This moment leads to an exchange about punk rock where Lois talks about growing up as a “punk rock kid” and Clark tells her that he is punk too.

Lois — “Me, too. But we’re bound to though. We’re so different. I was just some punk rock kid from Bakerline and you’re…Superman.”

Clark — “I’m punk rock.”

Lois — [laughing] “You are not punk rock.”

Clark — “I like the Strangle Fellows, the P.O.D.s, and the Mighty Crabjoys.”

Lois — “Those are pop radio bands, they’re not punk rock. The Mighty Crabjoys suck.”

Clark — “Ah, well, a lot of people love ‘em.”

Lois — “My point is I question everything and everyone. You trust everyone and think everyone you ever met is, like…beautiful.”

Clark — “Maybe that’s the real punk rock.”

This moment provides the foundation for the film. I’m a Gen X-er, who, if you have read me for a while, grew up with punk in the 1990s and onwards, diving back into the earlier stuff over the years. I see punk, metal, rap, or any musical genre that people want to classify as “dangerous” as subversive, yes, but also hopeful. Punk, like life, contains both sides of the same coin, Lois’ “question everything and everyone” ethos and Clark’s trusting everyone and everything. Each can be true, and each absolutely is true.

Punk captured, for me during my early years, captured teenage angst, the feeling of isolation and also the fears of the future. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time because the music, not the lyrics, shook me, it spoke to systems that harm individuals and the world. Yet, on the flip side, they also pointed to a hopeful world following a dismantling of oppressive systems. Calling out oppression and hope go hand in hand. Lillian Smith, speaking out against white supremacy, maintained hope. James Baldwin, speaking out agaist white supremacy, maintained hope. Omar El Akkad, speaking out against Palestinian genocide, maintains hope. What happens when the system ends, when it gets uprooted? What comes after? That is where the hope enters. The hope and trust in humanity, in the world.

When most people hear punk, they don’t make it past the sound emanating from the speakers, the speed, the screams, the agression. They hear all of this and they think, “This is violent. This is terrible. This will destroy civilization.” Yet, hope exists. A care for humanity and our neighbors exist. I think about songs like Le Tigre’s “LT Tour Theme” where Kathleen Hanna begins by singing that the band can’t play all of the songs that the fans want each night, but they will play to “push you towards abandon,” to make you forget the world around you. They play, as they sing in the chorus, “for the ladies” and the LGBTQ individuals who push their way to the front and dance without abandon. I think about queer punk bands singing about hope like Le Tirge, Team Dresch, the Muslims, and more. It’s community, a place to be who you want to be without worrying about what others think. That is hope. That is humanity.

This desire to be who we are, confident and unafraid, is what we everyone wants. I think back to a conversation I had with someone I love following Trump’s State of the Union address back in March. The person posted a meme that showed Devarjaye “D.J.” Daniel, a 13-year-old boy from Texas who, in 2018, was diagnosed with brain cancer. The meme shows D.J. standing up and showing his credentials to the crowd, and it reads, “When you can’t stand and cheer for a courageous boy who’s fought cancer for 6 years, you have lost your soul.” I messaged the person, and we talked about the issues I had with the meme (which you can read about in the link above). Ultimately, the person told me they didn’t pay much attention to politics and just shared it. The person eventually said, “In my mind and heart, I just want everyone to live a happy life and able to afford things for themselves and their families and feel safe in our country.”

That, ultimately, is what we all want, right? Superman and punk embody that, each in their own way. At the end of the film, when Superman confronts Lex Luthor it all coalleses. Luther calls him a “piece of shit,” and Superman responds by saying, “That is where you’ve always been wrong about me, Lex. I’m as human as anyone! I love! I, I get scared! I wake up every morning and despite not knowing what to do I put one foot in front of the other and I try to make the best choices I can. I screw up all the time but that is being human! And that’s my greatest strength. And someday I hope, for the sake of the world, you understand that it’s yours, too.” We are, each and everyone of us, humans, making our ways through the world as best we can. We want to live our lives. We each want to grow old.

If this is what constitutes “woke,” then we are woke. I want a community that looks out for one another. I want a community that seeks what is best for everyone, not just a select few. I want a community that uplifts instead of demonizes. I want a punk rock community that is not afraid to speak out when it sees injustice. I want a community that succeeds when everyone succeeds. I want a community of love and empathy. These themes ride beneath the surface of punk, especially in songs like NOFX’s “Mattersville” which imagines the band and other punks growing old together in a community where “cops can’t come in” and where everyone lives together in unity. I think about songs like Zulu’s “Our Day is Now,” a song that challenges stereotypes and also tells us to “step out into the sea of pure love where we’re meant to be,” a sea of unity.

In an interview with NME, Rachel Brosnahan (Lois Lane) comments on Superman’s comments about the “Real punk rock.” She says, “But in a way, I think what we’re saying is that sometimes it’s pretty punk rock to just be yourself. You don’t have to be the traditional idea of ‘cool’ to be punk rock in your own way. The “real punk rock” contains both anger and hope, calling out oppression and bringing community together, hate and love. The “real punk rock,” through its calling out of systems of oppression leans more towards hope, community, and love. It brings to light the hate and oppression that cause anger and pushes towards community. Superman is right that the “real punk rock” is trusting everyone and seeing beauty in the world. Beauty arises from the destruction of oppression. If we blind ouselves through anger, then the beauty doesn’t arise. The end of the film brings this home with Superman’s words to Luthor and Boravia’s invasion of Jarhanpur. Hope in humanity and people is punk rock.

What are your thoughts? As always, let me know in the comments below. Make sure to follow me on Bluesky @silaslapham.