The fact Supergirl actually has those two suns of different hues in the third act shows that the film understands the comic’s imagery, but not always its heart. While it recreates some plot points from Woman of Tomorrow, it often strips away the elements that gave those moments emotional weight, reducing them to surface‑level sequences defined by exposition instead of empathy. Core thematic ideas such as grief, vengeance, mercy, and moral growth are present in outline, but they rarely develop with the same nuance.
A major part of what’s lost is the richness of the journey itself. The comic is a true galaxy-spanning odyssey in which Kara and Ruthye travel from world to world, encountering dragons, centaurs, strange civilizations, and surreal alien cultures, such as the segregated blue or purple people‑skinned societies. These encounters aren’t filler but essential to the themes, reinforcing the brutality of the universe and deepening the story’s ideas about grief and forgiveness. In contrast, the film condenses this journey into a literal three-day race against the clock, removing much of the fantastical poetry of the book. Instead of fully engaging with its themes of prejudice and genocide and the horrifying actions of Krem’s villainous Brigands, it glosses over a hinted‑at human-trafficking subplot, specifically involving young girls, which is never fully unpacked.
This condensing also weakens the character dynamics and moral stakes. Kara’s arc on the page is shaped through repeated choices toward compassion as she tries to steer Ruthye away from revenge, culminating in devastating realizations. Without that pacing and scope, the film struggles to replicate the richness of the book.
Even so, Ruthye remains one of the film’s strongest elements, thanks to Ridley’s performance and clear chemistry with Alcock. However, her emotional arc is significantly weakened by its brevity. The movie speeds through Ruthye’s family life, her relationship with her parents, and the inciting murder, whereas the comic spends time establishing her bond with her parents and the depth of her grief. As a result, the stakes feel thinner, and even her fighting abilities come across as inconsistent rather than carefully developed.
A similar issue affects Kara’s backstory and the portrayal of Argo City, the last outpost of Krypton that spent years floating through space after the rest of the planet evaporated. This backstory is crucial to understanding why Supergirl differs so sharply from Superman. Although the film depicts Argo City, Kara’s father, radiation poisoning, and Krypton’s destruction, it rarely lingers long enough for these elements to fully resonate. Key aspects such as Argo’s forcefield, the city’s slow decline, and Kara witnessing the death of her people amount to only a handful of scenes. These flashback sequences are striking, but are almost dumped in montage on the viewer instead of being deeply woven into the narrative.
The film’s villains are further underdeveloped. Krem is framed as the central antagonist, but Schoenaerts’ performance is generic and the character underwritten. Krem functions more like a henchman than a truly formidable threat. By diluting the heinous, genocidal elements of the Brigands on the page, the villains as a whole lose their sense of danger. Meanwhile Jason Momoa’s cameoing Lobo, a space biker bounty hunter, plays as largely unnecessary fan service. He’s entertaining to watch, but ultimately distracting from the core Kara‑and‑Ruthye journey.
