upper waypoint

‘Super/Man’ Is a Portrait of Perseverance in the Face of Unfathomable Tragedy

Save ArticleSave Article
Failed to save article

Please try again

A man dressed as Superman points to the sky with a city skyline behind him.
Christopher Reeve starring as Superman in 1978.  (©Warner Brothers/courtesy Everett Collection)

There are two love stories at the center of new documentary, Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story. One is the relationship Reeve shared with his devoted wife, Dana. The other is the lifelong friendship the Superman icon shared with his college roommate, Robin Williams. If Reeve was alive today, Glenn Close asserts at one point, Williams would be as well.

“I believe that,” she emphasizes. And you believe her.

Indeed, there is a gut-wrenching amount of tragedy in Super/Man — the kind of series of cruel and unusual events that borders on the unfathomable. We are introduced to Reeve as a serious, Juilliard-trained actor who made his fortune embodying DC Comics’ most famous superhero, but whose greatest passions revolved around the great outdoors. One day in 1995, aged 42, Reeve took an awkward tumble from his horse and somehow suffered a spinal injury so severe, there is talk in the film of the ways in which his head needed to be “reattached” to his body.

For people who did not live their formative years in the 1980s and ’90s, it’s difficult to convey just what a shocking turn of events this was at the time. When the first Superman movie came out in 1978, superhero movies were not yet a box office staple. It was Reeve’s compelling and enormously popular portrayal of Clark Kent and his alter ego that made comic book movie adaptations seem like such a good idea. Reeve worked hard, not just to develop his physique for the role — he was trained, Super/Man explains, by Darth Vader actor David Prouse — but also to inject Superman with pathos and vulnerability.

For an entire generation, Reeve simply was Superman. He is seen in the documentary repeatedly asserting in interviews at the time that he was a normal man like any other, not a hero. That changed, Super/Man takes some lengths to evidence, after Reeve lost his ability to move. Not only did Reeve not disappear from public life, thereby providing inspiration to the 250,000 other Americans living with spinal cord injuries, he was actively motivated by his disability.

Sponsored

That was no small feat, the film makes clear. Especially given that Reeve’s injury was so severe, in the days following his accident, doctors gave him the option to end his life. Reeve stuck around when he realized that his wife did not consider him a burden. “You’re still you,” she said. “And I love you.”

What Reeve did in the ten years of life that followed his accident was to very publicly find meaning in the twist of fate that physically confined him. He became a fierce advocate and consciousness raiser, putting pressure on America’s health industry, raising money for research and working on projects that highlighted the struggles of disabled and terminally ill Americans.

In 1997, Reeve directed In the Gloaming, a movie starring Glenn Close and Whoopi Goldberg, about a young man dying of AIDS. In 2004, he directed The Brooke Ellison Story, a biopic about the first quadriplegic student to graduate from Harvard. Even years after his death, the ripples from Reeve’s work continued to reverberate. There is brief footage in Super/Man of Barack Obama signing the Christopher and Dana Reeve Paralysis Act into law in 2009.

The CNN/HBO Documentary film does not hesitate to revere Reeve for the extraordinary way he lived his life after his accident. (At one point, the movie even juxtaposes real-life footage of Reeve moving the 1996 Democratic National Convention to tears, with footage of Reeve, in character, speaking before the United Nations in Superman IV.)

But one of the things that makes Super/Man stand out is its unwillingness to turn Reeve into an over-simplified beacon of bravery and hope. It strikes a balance between giving Reeve the respect he deserves without once glossing over the depth of his hardships. Robin Williams’ support and friendship, incidentally, was one of the things that lifted his spirits during his lowest moments. (The footage of Williams’ eulogy at Reeve’s funeral is nothing less than devastating.)

A man in a wheelchair, viewed in side profile.
A photo by Herb Ritts, taken of Christopher Reeve after the accident that paralyzed him. (Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures)

Adding to an already tragic story, Reeve’s beloved wife Dana died just 18 months after her husband, struck down by an aggressive form of lung cancer, despite never having smoked. Their son Will was just 13 at the time. (“I’ve been alone since then,” he somberly states here.) Will and his half-siblings Alexander and Matthew — both from Reeve’s previous relationship with Gae Exton — have continued working with the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation ever since.

One can’t help but leave Super/Man inspired but also crestfallen. Reeve and his entire family proved time and again that continuing to fight is probably the most effective way through hardship and loss. That one family was dealt so many blows in quick succession remains impossible to make sense of. If there is one key takeaway from Super/Man, it comes midway through the film, from Reeve himself. “If you think the game’s worthwhile,” he says, “you play the hand you’re dealt.”


‘Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story’ is playing in select movie theaters now.

lower waypoint
next waypoint