The Death of the Classic Hero

There was a time when heroes stood for something clear: truth, justice, and a better tomorrow. Now? They brood. They have a dark side lurking just below the surface.
Growing up with a disability, I found solace in superheroes. Most of them were outsiders who were capable of great things. It made me wish that in my differentness, I could still do things that would leave people in awe. However, the thing that resonated with me, the thing that really made me root for the heroes, wasn’t their otherworldly powers. It was the fact that, even when faced with insurmountable challenges and evil, they always seemed to choose good without hesitation. They were genuinely good, even when their powers elevated them above moral law.
My favorite superhero was, and will always be, Superman. He was the mold through which I compared all other heroes as I grew up loving comics and heroic figures. His classical depiction stood for unwavering morality, hope, and courage. Even with god-like powers, he still always chose to do what was right, even when it didn’t benefit him. In fact, it was usually at his own detriment. But our modern-day superheroes have drifted from this ideal, often reflecting cultural shifts in how we think about power, morality, and goodness.
One of the first introductions I had to Superman was through the quintessential depiction given by Christopher Reeve. This version, what would become my standard for all other heroes, super or otherwise, epitomized what it meant to be noble, kind, and humble. He chose to save people not because he was burdened with the task, but because it was the right thing to do. He evoked a sense of hope in a world that desperately needed it. He was a hero who inspired goodness. Reeve seamlessly portrayed these themes in a way that is still unrivaled by subsequent Superman actors.
My love of Superman peaked with the CW show Smallville, where Tom Welling portrayed a young Clark Kent slowly developing his superpowers. Episode after episode, season after season, we follow Clark through moral dilemmas that feel more personal than those faced by many of his predecessors. Through the challenges he faces, we see Clark learn to exemplify idealism, personal choice, and the pursuit of becoming someone better.
My favorite element of this version of Clark Kent is his friendship with Lex Luthor. Throughout their tumultuous relationship, we see Lex struggle to be better than his name. He tries, and he fails, echoing the internal struggles in Clark’s own journey. This mirrored conflict shows how goodness and badness are choices, and how those choices shape entirely different paths. It is this underlying message, that goodness must be chosen, especially when it’s not easy, that made me fall in love with this Superman. Even if one of my favorite characters fails so spectacularly at making that choice.
In Superman Returns, I found a nostalgic throwback to Christopher Reeve’s Superman. Brandon Routh’s portrayal embodied a hero who was quiet, kind, and full of longing. While this rendition wasn’t as action-packed as some others, it leaned into the emotional vulnerability of the character and the concept of sacrifice. In this version, Superman discovers he has fathered a child with Lois Lane, after leaving her, unknowingly pregnant, to keep her safe. He learns this just before Lex connects the dots and attempts to exploit it. To protect Lois and his son, Superman leaves, allowing the world to believe that another man, Lois’s fiancé, is the child’s father. At the cost of having a family, of having someone like him in the world, he chooses their safety over his own happiness. This was the last mainstream attempt to revive the classic Superman ethos before the character shifted into something darker and more brooding.
I’m a big fan of Henry Cavill. I love that he’s a nerd at heart and reflects that in the roles he chooses and how he portrays his characters. However, his Superman might be one of my least favorite, through no fault of his own. In Zack Snyder’s direction, we get a grittier, more brooding, messianic interpretation. Cavill’s Superman struggles with alienation, the fear he inspires, and moral ambiguity. We watch him wrestle with what it means to be good in a world that fears, and sometimes hates, him. This marks a clear shift from Superman as an inspiring leader to a reluctant protector. Where hope once defined him, in this version, it becomes a burden.
While there are other portrayals of Clark Kent and Superman, these are the ones that shaped how I see the hero and the ideals he’s meant to embody. And looking at them now, I see what we’ve lost. In our pursuit of realism and commentary, we’ve started to equate goodness with naivety. We see it as weakness. Even as judgment. But do we still need characters who show us how to aspire to be better, and not just how to survive?
Superman’s power was never just about strength. That’s a subtlety often missed in a society increasingly distrustful of power. His strength was in his choice to be good, even when he didn’t have to be. As we continue to humanize our superheroes, we strip away the ideals they were created to inspire. In doing so, we lose role models who lead with kindness, and we feed a culture that increasingly turns to anger, hatred, and division.
Even though more human, gritty anti-heroes dominate today’s market, I believe there’s still a hunger for stories where good doesn’t mean weak. While I understand the temptation to make Superman just another edgy hero, he’s always stood as a reminder of who we could be. Something better. In the end, maybe it’s not about making our heroes more like us. Maybe it’s about making ourselves a little more like them.