Unbreakable: "Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story"

Having done such a good job of profiling that elaborately dressed but troubled soul Alexander McQueen back in 2018, the blue-chip documentary pairing of Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui have selected what would appear a simpler proposition for their follow-up. Revisiting the life and work of the actor who made us believe he could fly, Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is unabashed in its emotionality; it'd be a tough cookie who made it through the first half without shedding at least one tear. By earning the Reeve family's trust, the directors have unlocked a treasure trove of home movies that shed new, touching light on both Reeve the jockish wanderer turned international superstar and the fraught recovery process the actor had to undergo after snapping his neck in a horseriding accident in 1995. That accident is placed upfront here, pivotal as it was; and just when you think matters couldn't possibly get any more painful, up pops Reeve's old roommate and friend Robin Williams (or "Brother Robin", as the family refer to him) to remind us of someone else we've loved and missed. By now, everybody's damp-eyed and not seeing entirely clearly: only that might explain the edit-suite decision to leave in Glenn Close's on-camera assertion that had Reeve lived longer, Williams might still be with us, which seems speculative at best. Yet even the material that isn't heartbreaking moves us in some other way. Jeff Daniels recalls a conversation backstage on Broadway in 1977 during which co-star William Hurt warned Reeve against selling out by signing on for Superman; it's an anecdote made all the more poignant by Hurt's late-career decision to shill for Marvel. (Are we just crying for the state of movies now?) We learn Reeve's father, the standoffish poet Franklin Reeve, was disappointed upon discovering his son had won this role, and not - as he'd originally thought and cheered - a role in Man and Superman by George Bernard Shaw; this development lets on all we need to know about this frosty father-son relationship, and why the son felt compelled to push himself as he did. Super/Man may be the first movie to open with the DC logo that goes on to trade in genuinely complex and perilously fragile human beings.

That said, the tears begin to dry up around the halfway mark; Bonhôte and Ettedgui don't always seem to react to the notes coming down from heavyweight corporate producers (DC, HBO Documentaries, CNN) as decisively as they might have. Cutting back-and-forth in time - not unlike Superman setting the Earth in reverse - the pair overuse one potent visual contrast: that between the gym-bulked, kiss-curled Adonis Reeve in the red-and-blue romper suit and the drawn, waxen, understandably hesitant figure in the wheelchair with integral respirator. That juxtaposition may just be unavoidable in retracing the arc of this life: no-one has ever looked better in superhero costume, nor appeared better suited for a particular role. Susan Sarandon and Whoopi Goldberg attest to how this Supes filled them with horny delight, but the most revealing scrap of archive details the look of wonder in a group of kids' eyes as Reeve passes them on the street. Setting out the thesis the actor swapped one form of heroism for another, namely lending greater visibility to disability, the film flirts with hagiography: lots of talking heads announcing how wonderful Reeve was in any configuration. But there were complications, too: the deterioration of the Superman series, from tentpole Warner Bros. blockbuster to corner-cutting Cannon Films pick-up; the failure to land a comparably memorable second role (Bonhôte and Ettedgui might have made more of a case for Reeve's non-franchise endeavours, but the life overshadows the art); divorce from first wife Gae Exton; the aggressive pushing for cures that suggested, even after his accident, Reeve was still thinking like an alpha. Propelled by snappy cutting - for which editor Otto Burnham rightly gets third credit - Super/Man covers a lot of ground, but there are curious structuring and storytelling choices. Bonhôte and Ettedgui delay a segment on the actor's second wife Dana until late on, obliging us to revisit footage very similar to that we've already seen; ugly CG interstitials remind us everybody's still operating within the umbrella of the artless DC-verse; and the access to Reeve's family results in an overextended conclusion. (No-one can bring themselves to say goodbye again.) It's an honourable tribute, but some of that early power and force gets frittered as the world turns.

Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is now showing in selected cinemas.