"*I* could've kicked Superman's ass in this movie."
Superman wasn't killed by Doomsday, he was killed by this utterly stupid sequel.So Superman's all powerful. He's the man of tomorrow, a god among men. He's the Big Blue, for cryin' out loud. Truth, justice, and the American way, all that stuff.
But he takes it upon himself to rid the world of nuclear weapons, thereby becoming the world's conscience.
Lex Luthor sets some doohickey up where the weapons, after being thrown into the sun, create a new superpowered badguy named, what else, Nuclear Man. He wears black and gold and has long fingernails and flowing blond hair, so you know he's a badass. Or a disco queen. And he basically kicks the Big S's butt and leaves him with a scratch that amounts to radiation poisoning or somesuch. Supes holes up in Clark Kent's apartment until Lois shows up with a new suit. Then he beats the bad guys, saves the world, and admits he was wrong.
This was the second franchise killer for Superman. Apparently the abomination of Superman III wasn't enough. So here we have Chris Reeve, trying his damndest to still bring respect to the character, while Gene Hackman is reduced to sharing screen time with Jon Cryer. The whole "we are the world" message is lame.But hey, it's not as lame as Kryptonite made out of tar, right?