Superman & Lois Season 3 Review

Superman & Lois remains a far cry from The CW’s now-concluded Arrowverse, the shared continuity from which the Kent family’s adventures in Smallville spun off before being confined to their own universe. Interconnected shows like Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl, and Batwoman all petered out in their own ways, but narratively and aesthetically, Superman & Lois’ updates to Clark Kent’s mythology continue to tread new ground for DC heroes in live action, while drawing from powerful corners of their comic-book source material. Season 3 builds on these dramatic strengths while sweeping its weaknesses – malformed, CGI-heavy action and ill-fitting alt rock – under the rug, resulting in a tightly wound and thematically cogent set of 11 episodes. The season order, however, called for a total of 13, and the writers appear to have used their final 2 hours to create an extended backdoor pilot for season 4, lest it end up on the CW’s chopping block – which has been rather crowded of late.

Their gambit appears to have paid off, albeit with caveats. Superman & Lois has since been renewed, but seven of its stars were given the axe, leaving only Superman (Tyler Hoechlin), Lois Lane (Elizabeth Tulloch) and their teenage twins Jordan (Alex Garfin) and Jonathan (Michael Bishop) as returning series regulars. It’s a baffling decision, since the show’s high points usually revolve around its small-town soap opera, with explosive theatrics forming more of a background tapestry than a main event.

The season picks up where things left off, with Smallville trying to rebuild itself in the aftermath of yet another attack (courtesy of last season’s multiverse-merging, which wasn’t nearly as engaging as its interpersonal drama). This sense of rebuilding guides several threads; former sweethearts Jordan and Sarah (Inde Navarrette) figuring out how to be friends; the recent divorce of Sarah’s parents, Lana (Emmanuelle Chriqui) and Kyle (Erik Valdez); and multiverse travelers Natalie Irons (Tayler Buck) and her father John Henry (Wolé Parks) trying their best to start a new life on a brand-new Earth. These are all bound, however, by a difficult development. Lois is diagnosed with breast cancer, a battle she and Clark are forced to fight alongside the resurgence of Metropolis gangster Bruno Manheim (Chad L. Coleman), who controls a version of the deadly, sonic-blast-inducing comic villain, Onomatopoeia.

While these various threads seem scattered at first, they’re eventually drawn together through twists and turns that, despite seeming obvious, work to magnify the season’s central themes. Clark, an invulnerable being, is unmoored by the prospect of his wife’s mortality; as a hero accustomed (and dedicated) to saving everyone he possibly can, Lois’ demise, should it come to pass, is one he’s forced to simply accept. In tandem with this idea, revelations about Manheim and his family history place him and Clark at loggerheads, both as a villain and hero with opposing goals – Manheim’s mad-scientist experiments on former villains of the week place innocent people in danger – and as family men confronted with the specter of death.

In a season all about protecting one’s family, and what it drives men to do – John Henry gets a brief and volatile arc in this regard as well – it’s easy for the likes of Lois to get lost in the shuffle. She so often has, but season 3 is when Superman & Lois finally gives Tulloch her due, centering her character’s struggles and spending entire episodes on her long and harrowing emotional journey. It’s a moving saga about what the human body and spirit undergo during chemotherapy. It’s something Clark will never experience, yet he plays just as vital a role in Lois’ tale, as both a husband learning to be supportive despite his own fears, and as a journalistic partner, investigating a villain with whom it’s hard not to empathize.

Despite its distinctly modern update to Smallville, Superman & Lois often skirts around race as an explicit subject, but season 3 invokes the plot of a vital 1970 comic arc in a way that makes the topic unavoidable. Manheim, a Black man, claims to do what’s necessary for “[his] community,” an economically downtrodden urban region of Metropolis that heroes like Superman (and journalists like Lois Lane) often ignore, because their problems aren’t as glamorous as alien invasions. While confronting Superman about this, Manheim all but quotes a landmark page from Dennis O’Neil and Neal Adams’ Green Lantern #76, in which a poor, elderly Black man accuses the titular cosmic hero of helping aliens with blue, purple and orange skin, but ignoring Black-skinned human beings in the process. In the long run, this accusation doesn’t drive Superman to change his methods – it’s a thread that feels disappointingly dropped – but it’s one of many vital scenes that adds dimensions to Manheim, helping him transcend the role of a rote, mustache-twirling villain.

Season 3 also taps into one of the best Superman stories ever written: Grant Morrison and Frank Quietly’s All-Star Superman, which acts as a guiding philosophy at multiple turns. Its famous page that distills the character’s ethos by having him talk a suicidal teen off a ledge (“You’re much stronger than you think you are”) makes an appearance too, only it’s Lois who plays the role of inspiring hero this time, making her an equal partner in the grand scheme of Superman’s mythology. (The other way season 3 pulls from All-Star Supermanis by exploring Clark’s biggest weakness, as someone driven to save every single person, even when it’s impossible).

This new beginning for Superman & Lois concludes in lopsided fashion

Just as interesting as these superhero goings-on is the teenage melodrama in Smallville, which Superman & Lois continues to capture through careful blocking across its widescreen cinematic frame. Navarrette comes further into her own as a bright young star shouldering complex adult burdens (Sarah’s depression, often hinted at, returns full force when her parents split and her father begins dating again). Garfin is forced into new territory as Jordan’s powers emerge, leaving him torn between keeping family secrets, and finally stepping into the limelight as a hero of his own. Bishop – inheriting the role of Jonathan following the departure of Jordan Elsass – takes a while to warm up to his costars, but eventually fits like a glove. He’s less expressive than Elsass at first, but he eventually makes the role his own through withheld idiosyncrasies. It also helps that he and Garfin actually look like fraternal twins, and there even are moments when the duo interact wordlessly, and move and behave in sync in ways Jonathan and Jordan previously never did.

This behavior also extends to Natalie whenever she’s around the twins. Since she was Lois’ daughter in another universe, the three of them are siblings in a way – and their matching movements, postures, and temperaments reflect this. Multiverse stories are a dime a dozen these days, and while Superman & Lois’ own multiversal plot is far in its rearview, its aftermath remains, as Natalie tries to forge a relationship with General Sam Lane (Dylan Walsh), her parallel-Earth grandfather. The general’s allegiance is first and foremost to the DOD and to keeping Earth safe, so he’s not afraid to use tech geniuses like Natalie for their gifts, but their story wraps up with surprising gentleness.

The Kents and their extended circle aren’t so lucky. Season 3’s final two episodes see the focus shift away from Manheim and toward a devious conception of Superman’s billionaire archnemesis Lex Luthor (Michael Cudlitz), presented as a hardened, almost cartoonishly imposing version of the character never before seen in film or TV ( and joined by a grossly unsettling incarnation of another well-known Superman baddie). 

This new beginning for Superman & Lois concludes in lopsided fashion, practically mid-action beat. It’s at least accompanied by a number of unfurling personal subplots – from the title characters’ goofy, well-meaning attempts to connect with their kids, to Kyle’s blossoming romance with high-strung local journalist Chrissy Beppo (Sofia Hasmik) – which all reach new heights of joy or tension before this explosive interruption. This would make for a worthwhile conclusion without knowledge of the supporting ensemble receiving their pink slips. Unfortunately, there’s no escaping the reality that, despite renewing Superman & Lois, The CW may have shot itself in the foot by stripping one of its best programs of its strongest performers – and thus, its most potent emotional elements.