Dear Man of Steel: You’re Taking Your Title Too Seriously. Seriously.

I remember, Man of Steel, back in the olden days when you wore a blue unitard with foam muscles sewn in, red spanks, and, at least in the comics, had your hair slicked to within an inch of that one curl that always hung fetchingly down over your forehead. It's how we knew you were in Superhero mode. You fooled Lois Lane and everyone else in Metropolis with this brilliant disguise. And you fought for Truth, Justice, and the American way. (Which is probably why Hostess is making a comeback this July.)

Then you were updated. Christopher Reeve took over your role in moviedom. Chris was beautiful: his muscles were real, his gaze piercing, his chin dimpled, and his eyes filled with righteous emotion. When he rescued children, flew with Lois, defeated Lex Luthor and his voluptuous girlfriend — who, but for her evil ways, would love to have loved that super man — we knew he was doing it to protect goodness in the World. Even when he used his super-vision to tell Lois that her tighty-whities were pink, it was clear he was making a point. SuperDude would never look at anything face-slap-worthy unless absolutely necessary.

Then came 2013, and a New Dawn for our beloved American hero. Henry Cavill stepped into your red boots — or weirdly molded rubberized symbolic boot-thingies — And out he flew defending . . . um . . . er . . . hmmm. Truth? Justice? The American Way? No, actually, it was kind of his mom. And maybe Lois. And obviously himself. But it couldn't possibly have been the people of this planet, because he blew the living shortcake out of them in his many yawn-inducing fight scenes. And crushed them. And buried them. And Anti-Gravity-Machined them. To tiny little pieces.

Without so much as an eye-blink.

Since when does Superman not care that Smallville and its residents have been smithereened? Or that most of Lower Metropolis has been leveled? And if Lois is so brill she can mastermind the ultimate Destruct-The-Baddies plan, why doesn't it occur to her that bazillions of good guys will also be (*carefully not spoiling*) removed from our planet along with them?

Man of Steel was really well cast. I liked everyone — with the possible exception of Michael Shannon as General Zod, but mostly because his carotid arteries and associated muscles never got a break from his intensity and he started reminding me of those Star Trek Cardassians with their psychotically developed trapeziuses. Henry Cavill is perhaps the most beautiful and angsty Superman of all. But I could live without all the Steel. The little people need to matter, not just be shrugged off and ignored. Along with all the devastation. And I didn't like the way Zod met his ultimate demise either. Bleh. That ain't a super man. That's a man with steel for a heart. Something we don't need in this day and age.

So, Mr. Steely Cavill. Let's see if you can't talk some heart back into this franchise, hmm? You can totally pull it off, with those soulful eyes of yours. See if you can get the rest of Hollywood to buy off on it too, 'kay? That is the American way.