• James Gunn’s new Superman film presents a thinly veiled allegory of the Israeli occupation of Palestine — a bold move for Hollywood, but still couched in metaphor and cautious politics.
• Critics are divided: is this a real stand for justice or just an attempt to monetise global suffering?
In James Gunn’s new Superman reboot, the Man of Steel is caught between two fictional nations: Boravia — an ethnically white, heavily armed, technologically advanced military power — and Jarhanpur — an impoverished, non-white land under occupation. For many, this parallel to the Israel-Palestine conflict is impossible to miss.
James Gunn defended any metaphorical meanings, stating “an immigrant that came from other places and populated the country, but for me it is mostly a story that says basic human kindness is a value… and obviously there will be jerks out there who are just not kind and will take it as offensive just because it is about kindness. But screw them.”
The film features haunting scenes of drones raining down on desert cities, a heavily militarised wall dividing occupied land, and children hiding in rubble — all unmistakably evoking imagery from Gaza. Boravian drones even resemble Israeli Hermes 900 UAVs. Protest scenes mirror Palestinian youths throwing stones at the West Bank barrier.
Lex Luthor, a corporate war profiteer, sides with Boravia, manipulating the media to frame its aggression as self-defence — a narrative strategy eerily familiar to anyone who’s observed how Western media often covers Israeli military actions.
However, critics argue that even if the film critiques Israeli-style occupation, it doesn’t go far enough in humanising the oppressed. “Even if you interpret the film as being anti-Israel, it’s hard to argue it’s pro-Palestine,” one writer noted. “The Jarhanpurians’ only role is to be impoverished victims… and the only other Middle Eastern character who gets a spotlight is Malik… a falafel cart dealer.”
That characterisation — reducing Middle Eastern characters to props for the white hero’s empathy arc — is a tired trope, and one that does little to convey the actual agency or resistance of those living under occupation.
Political commentators have claimed the Boravian leader was “based on David Ben-Gurion”, the first Prime Minster of Israel, and others have read the film as promoting pro-immigration messaging — especially during an era of mass deportation raids in the US. Whether those gestures are brave or opportunistic depends on how one reads Hollywood’s recent history.
Hollywood’s Manufactured Silence
While Superman may gesture at solidarity, the film industry’s broader record tells a different story. Since Israel’s war on Gaza began — which has now claimed over 57,000 lives — many in the industry who voiced support for Palestinians have been punished.
When Hamdan Ballal, co-director of No Other Land, was assaulted by Israeli forces weeks after winning an Oscar, the Academy refused to condemn the attack. They issued only a vague statement about “violence anywhere in the world.” Around the same time, Rachel Zegler was reportedly targeted by her own film producers for tweeting “free Palestine.” Her comments were blamed for Snow White’s poor performance.
Meanwhile, actress Melissa Barrera was fired from the Scream franchise for similar posts. Industry insiders describe a “blacklist culture”: private PR firms and producers checking artists’ social media for any hint of Palestinian solidarity before hiring.
Dozens of workers — from animators and actors to choreographers and carpenters — told Middle East Eye they were surveilled, doxed, or outright fired for political speech. One organiser said, “You can win an Oscar and never work again. You can have a career taken away immediately.”
This climate of fear stands in sharp contrast to the values of justice and heroism so often paraded in superhero films. It reveals the hypocrisy of an industry that silences dissent while profiting from allegorical versions of the very oppression it enables.
A Step Forward — But How Far?
For all its flaws, Gunn’s Superman does represent a breakthrough in a Hollywood that has long avoided depicting Palestinian resistance — even metaphorically. The film offers an allegory that is at least recognisable, even if it softens the story and sidelines the oppressed.
There is value in that. Films help shape public empathy, and Superman may prompt some viewers to question media narratives and power structures they previously took for granted.
But the risk remains that this is symbolism without substance, made safe for studio profits. Until Hollywood is willing to defend the real oppressed voices — not just fictional stand-ins — this moment will feel less like solidarity, and more like selective marketing dressed in a cape.
