Supergirl Finally Lands, and Here's What Moreno Valley Should Make of It

The temperatures around Moreno Valley have finally dipped out of triple digits, the kind of early-October stretch when a trip to an air-conditioned theater stops being a necessity and starts being a choice again. That shift matters, because it's exactly the season when a superhero movie that came and went over the summer starts showing up where people actually watch things a second time: streaming queues, discount screens, Friday night with the whole family instead of a packed opening-weekend crowd. Supergirl, which hit theaters back in June, is now firmly in that in-between life, and that's arguably the more honest moment to take its measure.

The bigger story here isn't really Kara Zor-El. It's James Gunn and Peter Safran's DC Studios project, now two films deep into rebuilding the DC Universe from the ground up after Superman arrived first and set the tone. That's a heavier lift than it sounds. Warner Bros. spent the better part of a decade lurching between tones and timelines with its DC properties, and the decision to hand the keys to Gunn was as much a bet on narrative discipline as on any single superhero. Supergirl was always going to be read as a test: can this universe sustain a second lead, in a different register, without losing the thread? Director Craig Gillespie, whose resume (I, Tonya, Cruella) leans toward character-first stories with an edge of dark comedy, and writer Ana Nogueira were tasked with making Kara distinct from Superman rather than a lesser copy of him. That's the actual tension worth watching for, more than any plot twist.

The premise itself is deliberately smaller-scale than the “save the planet” formula. Kara, played by Milly Alcock, heads off across the galaxy chasing down whoever hurt her dog Krypto. It's a personal, almost western-style revenge errand dressed up in cosmic stakes, with Matthias Schoenaerts, Eve Ridley, David Krumholtz, Emily Beecham, David Corenswet, and Jason Momoa filling out the orbit around her. The hook is intentionally intimate for a genre that usually goes bigger and louder with every sequel.

So does it work? The honest answer, going by IMDb's 6.1 out of 10, is: sort of, but not without real friction. That's a score that lands squarely in “divisive, not disastrous” territory, the kind of number that tells you audiences walked out with genuinely mixed feelings rather than a shared verdict either way. It's not the number of a film that embarrassed itself, but it's also not the number of a film that cleared the bar Gunn's DCU needs to clear if it wants to be taken as seriously as Marvel once was.

My own read, for what it's worth: Alcock is the reason to watch this at all. She brings a looser, more impulsive energy to Kara than Corenswet's Superman, and the dog-revenge premise gives her something to actually play rather than just react to. Where the film stumbles is pacing; the galaxy-hopping structure means momentum keeps resetting just as a scene earns your attention. It's a movie with a strong central performance wrapped around a plot that doesn't quite trust itself to stay small. Worth a watch, not worth reshuffling your weekend for.

If you're the type who likes catching this kind of film properly in a theater, Harkins Moreno Valley 16 is the sort of venue built for exactly this genre, reclining seats and all. If you'd rather wait until a title has settled into the second-run rotation, Regency's Towngate 8 is where movies like this eventually end up for a fraction of the price. Either way, there's no rush. Supergirl rewards patience more than urgency.

Facts verified as of October 1, 2026.