I rarely begin a review with pure emotion, but this time I don’t have a choice. As witnessed by the following:
Did you cry?
I was inconsolable.
That is the start of a conversation I had with a colleague about SUPER/MAN: The Christopher Reeve Story. Reeve was, and remains, our quintessential live-action Clark Kent, Kal-El, and Superman. Before Henry Cavill put on the suit, there was Christopher Reeve, the actor who made us believe a man could fly.
This documentary proves it.
Yet real heroes are human and Reeve lived a full spectrum of humanity. His childhood, although privileged, was rough. The Reeve side of the family—according to his three children—were all kinds of messed up. His father, Franklin D’Olier Reeve was a multi-hyphenate genius, whose nearly impossible expectations exacted a price. Chris, a gifted person himself, struggled to earn his father’s recognition, and there’s a sense the resulting trauma was not physical but intellectual. This influenced his relationships far into his future.
Becoming the Man of Steel is the foundation of this film, but it begins and ends with relationships: familial, fatherly, fandom, Hollywood, friends, and the love of two good women.
Led by filmmakers Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui, SUPER/MAN takes its time to recount the story. It starts in the mid-90s, before the equestrian accident that paralyzed Reeve and changed everything; then flashes back to the beginning. Often featuring voiceover from several audiobooks narrated by Reeve. Hearing his voice, while his story unfolds, makes each moment more personal. It’s as though you’ve been invited into his confidence.
Interwoven with interviews, home movies, and scenes from his work, the documentary uses 3D graphics to add a mythic quality. Set adrift in a multihued cosmos, a granite statue of Reeve floats with one arm flung out, legs crossed at the ankles, and an inscrutable expression. Whether in ecstasy, agony or with resolution, we can’t tell. It takes a while to realize this statue represents it all, but primarily it is a map of his body. At one point, a glowing green glints through a crack in the neck. Later, crystals of Kryptonite erupt from the spine. The statue knows his pain, but eventually, the cosmos gives him back his cape.
Through it all, there were the relationships. With his children Matt, Alexandra, and Will Reeve. With the politicians who helped him represent the disabled community, the family who gathered around him, and the fandom who still believed. His Hollywood friends remained and take turns telling his story too: Whoopi Goldberg, Glenn Close, Jeff Daniels, and his college roommate at Juilliard. A man who would become his brother in everything but blood, Robin Williams. That is one of the two relationships that sustained Christopher Reeve in the darkest and brightest moments. The other is Dana Reeve, the wife who built a legacy of enacting change alongside him.
When you see the strength of these relationships, you might wonder if Robin and Dana would still be with us if their beloved Chris had also remained.
The ticket price is not the cost of this film; you’ll gladly pay with tears. Triumphs and pain, testimony and truth, and above all those, love. These things are what you leave the theater with. These things sweep you up into the arms of SUPER/MAN.
Isn’t that the way life goes? We begin with a cry, end with tears, and hopefully live well in the middle. Christopher Reeve did more, he dared to become immortal. Because of him, we know we can fly.
If you’d like to see this documentary, and I hope you will,
it opens with two Fathom Events, on 9/21 and 9/25.
