Raul Delapena Setiawan
WARNING: The following article contains major plot spoilers for Supergirl, currently in theaters.
After a four-decade hiatus from the solo big-screen spotlight, the Last Daughter of Krypton has returned. Supergirl, directed with an ambitious, cosmic scope, introduces Milly Alcock as Kara Zor-El, a version of the character that leans heavily into the profound, isolating trauma of a refugee who remembers the death of her world. While the film has been lauded for its visual fidelity to source material like Tom King and Bilquis Evely’s Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow and the classic roots of Action Comics #252, it has sparked a fierce debate among fans and critics alike regarding its final act.
By choosing to have Kara Zor-El execute her antagonist, the film attempts to distinguish her from her cousin, Kal-El. However, in doing so, it raises significant questions about whether this creative choice undermines the very growth and moral architecture the movie spends two hours meticulously constructing.
A Legacy of Loss: The Origin of Kara Zor-El
To understand the current controversy, one must look at the foundation laid by the film. Unlike Clark Kent, who was whisked away as an infant and raised in the wholesome, grounded environment of Smallville, Kansas, Kara Zor-El is a child of tragedy. She lived on Krypton. She witnessed the planet’s implosion. She spent her formative years on the surviving fragment of Argo City before it, too, succumbed to the void.
This distinction is the cornerstone of the film’s narrative. The movie portrays Kara not merely as a "female Superman," but as a displaced, grieving survivor struggling with PTSD and, quite realistically, the use of alcohol as a coping mechanism. Her journey is one of integration—learning to trust, learning to form bonds with unlikely allies like the dog Krypto and the young adventurer Ruthye Marye Knoll, and discovering a reason to fight in a universe that has already taken everything from her.
Chronology of a Conflict: From Trauma to Execution
The film’s narrative trajectory is designed to lead Kara to a specific emotional epiphany. Throughout the second act, the audience watches Kara grapple with the villainous Krem of the Yellow Hills. The film establishes a pattern:
- The Catalyst: The Brigands’ raid on the planet Bilquis introduces the brutality of Krem. Kara, while not directly responsible for the ensuing slaughter, remains largely detached, a point of friction that highlights her emotional repression.
- The Breaking Point: Following the journey across the stars, the duo finally corners Krem on a planet orbiting a binary star system—a setting that physically weakens Kara, mirroring her vulnerability.
- The Pivot: In a moment of high tension, Ruthye is poised to deliver a lethal blow to Krem. Kara, acting as the voice of reason, intervenes, stating that "revenge won’t take your pain away." She comforts a grieving Ruthye, an act that finally allows Kara to confront and process her own buried trauma regarding Krypton.
- The Contradiction: Moments after this display of moral maturity, the film shifts. Kara, having just preached the dangers of vengeance, proceeds to execute Krem herself—stabbing him twice. Once for Ruthye, and once for Krypto.
The Problem with "Antihero" Kryptonians
The decision to have Kara cross the line of lethal force has invited immediate comparisons to Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel (2013). In that film, Superman’s decision to kill General Zod to save a family created a fractured legacy for the character in the DCEU, leading to years of discourse regarding the necessity of a "no-kill" rule.
By repeating this narrative beat, Supergirl enters dangerous territory. Proponents of the choice might argue that it creates a "grittier" version of the hero, but critics argue that it fundamentally misreads the character. In the DC Comics canon, Kara Zor-El is defined by her empathy, which is sharpened—not dulled—by her trauma. While she is often more aggressive or "hot-headed" than Clark, her moral compass is firmly oriented toward the sanctity of life.
Making her an executioner does not make her more complex; it makes her a participant in the same cycle of violence she was meant to overcome. When a hero kills because they are "pushed to the edge," it suggests that their morality is conditional. If Kara’s heroism is predicated on the idea that she is "what Superman isn’t," the film risks stripping away the aspirational quality that makes Supergirl a beacon of hope.
Implications: The Shadow of Woman of Tomorrow
The most frustrating aspect of the film’s conclusion, for many, is that a more nuanced, character-defining ending was already written in the source material.
In the Woman of Tomorrow comic, the narrative climax is fundamentally different. When confronted with the opportunity to kill, Kara chooses restraint. She does not execute Krem; she delivers him to the authorities, and he is subsequently exiled to the Phantom Zone. This version of the story allows for a more profound arc: Krem is forced to live with his crimes and undergo the arduous, lifelong process of genuine repentance.
By changing this, the film loses the chance to show that Kara is a superior, or at least a more disciplined, figure than the villains she hunts. If the movie intended to set up a future Man of Tomorrow film, a non-lethal resolution would have provided a much stronger thematic bridge. It would have solidified the idea that Kara, having processed her pain, is ready to stand alongside her cousin as a true champion of justice, rather than a vigilante who acts on impulse.
A Missed Opportunity for Character Growth
The central irony of the film is that it works so hard to distinguish Kara from Kal-El, only to force her into a moral dilemma that essentially echoes the least popular aspects of Clark’s modern cinematic history.
When Kara comforts Ruthye, the audience sees a version of Supergirl that is empathetic, wise, and deeply human. That scene serves as the emotional crescendo of the film. By having Kara abandon that wisdom seconds later, the film invalidates the growth it just demonstrated. The audience is left wondering: Was the growth genuine, or was it merely a facade?
Ultimately, the film succeeds as a visual spectacle and a compelling origin story, but it stumbles in its final execution. By prioritizing a "darker" ending, it sacrifices the internal consistency of its protagonist. For a character who represents the hope of a dead world, the most heroic thing she could have done was to prove that she is not, and never will be, a killer—even when the galaxy gives her every reason to be one.
As the credits roll and we look toward the future of this new cinematic universe, one hopes that the powers that be recognize that the power of Supergirl lies not in the sword she wields, but in her capacity to rise above the darkness that defines her past. Whether this version of Kara can reconcile her actions with the "Super" in her name remains the defining question of her future chapters.
Reynand Wu
Ali Ikhwan
