Well… I didn’t hate it.
The first half-hour, forty-five minutes has some nice touches. As in many of his big-budget extravagaction films, Bryan Singer displays a real fondness and talent for the character-driven, carefully-staged, small-scale suspenseful witty moments… even as such films invariably stomp all over such smaller pleasures, looking to supersede the sequence with CGItis.
What works: a lot of small character details and witty side-ways moments (again, mostly in that first third of the film).  One particularly good sequence involving a henchman, a defiant Lois Lane, and her sickly little boy, the boy and h-man playing “Body and Soul” on the piano together.  (It’s a really great bit.)  Spacey, occasionally.  Posey, less occasionally.
 Continue reading Superman‘s Big Fat Crying Jag