Does Rachel Brosnahan Have the Movie-Star Juice to Play Lois Lane in ‘Superman’?

There’s been plenty of talk over the years about what a deceptively challenging part Superman is. It may seem like you mainly have to be tall, muscular, and handsome, maybe have the humility to somehow look dignified wearing a cape, but Superman’s alien-human hybrid qualities make him difficult to pin down. There’s a whole movie that’s in part about how playing Superman can be as much a curse as a gift — just as so many superpowers are depicted in comic books. Indeed, there has yet to be a single big-screen Superman who experienced massive success after his appearance as such (though of course Christopher Reeve did become a legend for both his performance and his real-life bravery). It’s to the point where new Superman David Corenswet has alluded to the idea of agreeing to play Superman even if it’s the only thing he ever gets to do (which will obviously not be literally true, but could well be the case on a symbolic level).

But James Gunn’s new Superman movie also brings to the fore an almost equally difficult role in the world of comics translated to film: Lois Lane, Girl Reporter. (No one calls her that anymore, nor by the title of her 137-issue solo series, Superman’s Girl Friend, Lois Lane.) The comic book version of Lois has changed dramatically through various eras. Though she’s always been some form of hard-charging career gal, her character was often tied up in Superman-related antics: comically failing to realize that her colleague Clark Kent is actually Superman; later, spending ridiculous amounts of time attempting to prove her suspicions about Superman’s secret identity correct; and, of course, getting herself into situations where she needs Superman’s rescuing. Interestingly, Lois was modeled off of a movie character who wasn’t at all a damsel in distress: Torchy Blane, a quick-witted reporter in a series of B-movies released in the 1930s, where she was usually played by Glenda Farrell. The Torchy Blane movies are basically like a grown-up Nancy Drew (another popular film series at the time), and similarly modest in scale; they’re each about an hour long, and don’t involve superheroic feats or wildly complicated mysteries. But the Torchy character is memorably feisty and lovable, a screwball heroine unburdened by romance.

Gradually, the comics lived up to that inspiration, and Lois has become a more consistent partner for both Clark and Superman, professionally and romantically. It’s been decades since mainstream comics continuity has portrayed her as unaware of Clark’s secret; most current stories also have them married. While the movies haven’t gone that far, the two most recent portrayals involve her either already knowing that Clark is Superman (as in the new film) or figuring it out in short order (as in Man of Steel). Yet there are still limitations on the character on film that don’t exist in the comics; it’s one area where comics are able to be surprisingly progressive, because while it’s entirely possible to build a flashy comics miniseries or graphic novel around a supporting character, a movie putting Lois at the center would be considered some kind of affront, an unwanted spinoff distracting the people from the star attractions. This means the movie versions of Lois are sometimes subject to retrograde treatment, even as the source material has deepened her character.

That retro understanding of Lois informs her first big movie appearance, even as Margot Kidder shines in the role. The initial series of Superman movies trade on another facet of the Superman/Lois relationship, namely the self-pitying fantasy that a great woman will fail to see the superhero who’s actually standing right in front of her (albeit played with more of a manipulative wink here). Kidder does a great job walking all over Reeve in the Daily Planet scenes, but it sours the screwball energy when she has to get jerked around. Even in the second movie, where Clark shares his secret with Lois, he winds up mind-wiping it away. Still, Kidder was so distinctive in the role that Kate Bosworth, who’s kinda-sorta supposed to be playing the same version in Superman Returns, never had much chance of equaling the performance.

The more recent DCEU series of films went bigger, hiring no less than multiple Oscar nominee Amy Adams to play Lois. This seemed like a sign of the role’s increased prestige as well as an acknowledgment of its roots, given that Adams has dabbled in modern versions of retro genres like screwball comedy and musicals. But that’s not the wheelhouse of Zack Snyder, whose Lois is a dogged reporter lacking the sharp-tongued playfulness of Kidder’s version, or the best comics incarnations. Adams plays the part fine – and her tub scene in Batman v. Superman is one of the sexiest she’s ever put on screen – but across three movies, she seems decreasingly important to the bombastic series.

Which brings us to Rachel Brosnahan, the newest movie Lois and so universally described as perfect casting that it’s hard for a Marvelous Mrs. Maisel skeptic not to roll their eyes a little. This is a role that was originally based on a movie star, recently played by another movie star; Brosnahan, for all of her charm, hasn’t been much of a big-screen presence. Her most notable role was probably in I’m Your Woman, a clever but ultimately middling (and, technically, non-big-screen, as it was a streaming release) thriller riffing on Michael Mann’s Thief; Brosnahan basically plays the Tuesday Weld character from that movie, which follows her (rather than her criminal husband) after she’s “sent away” following a dangerous job. It’s a brilliant idea that never quite escapes the feeling of an exercise. That’s not on Brosnahan, but it does contribute to the feeling that she specializes in symbolic, feminist-minded revisionism more than playing fully realized characters. That’s certainly a danger in playing Lois Lane, too.

Happily, Brosnahan is quite good in Superman. The movie still lags behind the comics in plenty of ways; Lois does some journalistic sleuthing, but it’s nothing as detailed as, say, her Lois Lane: Enemy of the People comics story collected in 2020. But that’s not the performer’s fault. And after a first big scene with Clark/Superman where their impromptu “interview” quickly turns contentious, Brosnahan teases something further from the role’s most obvious notes: This Lois is a little bit of a dork. Though she frustrates her partner with her pressing questions about his role in various international affairs, Brosnahan doesn’t emphasize Lois’s cynicism. Despite her misgivings about relationships and his greater faith in people, she and Clark/Superman ultimately don’t seem like an odd couple. Brosnahan makes it clear that they simply express their idealism in different ways. It’s not a huge reinterpretation of the character; it’s really a modulation in Brosnahan’s performance. She seems to be on Gunn’s wavelength in a way that Adams wasn’t with her director.

If Brosnahan does still seem like an avid TV-watcher’s choice for Lois following the genuine star wattage of Adams, maybe that’s because Lois has been traditionally given more leeway on television – even sharing top billing in shows like Lois & Clark and Superman & Lois. Part of the reason the duo gets a decent amount of screentime in Superman is expediency; Gunn begins the movie with them already in a relationship, albeit relatively early on. (That they kiss multiple times makes them a hotter, heavier couple than almost anyone in the MCU.) Giving over more blockbuster real estate to a romance, of course, is still just as unthinkable as a movie focusing closely on Lois. This makes Brosnahan just the latest actress to bring the character to life in a space seemingly designed to limit her, even as she boasts the second or third-biggest part in the film. Lois can’t attract or make stars if she’s always just Superman’s Girl Friend.

Jesse Hassenger (@rockmarooned) is a writer living in Brooklyn. He’s a regular contributor to The A.V. Club, Polygon, and The Week, among others. He podcasts at www.sportsalcohol.com, too.