Superman: Love and Mercy (Comics) | Review

While dealing with the return of Lex Luthor and his arrest, Mercy Graves betrays Superman with an evil Luthor clone. Love and Mercy delivers high-stakes action while examining what happens when Lois Lane struggles with her Superwoman powers as they start burning out.

This isn't another straightforward villain battle where Superman saves the day through sheer strength alone. The creative team explores genuine consequences of temporary power and permanent identity, forcing both Clark and Lois to grapple with choices that will alter their relationship and roles as Metropolis' protectors.

Joshua Williamson (The Flash: Negative, The Flash: Year One) handles writing duties with a script that balances explosive superhero action against intimate character drama. He uses Lois's failing powers to examine their partnership from angles nobody really anticipated before.

Dan Mora (Absolute Power, All In Saga) and Eddy Barrows (Martian Manhunter: Red Rising, Suicide Squad: Dream Team) handle art responsibilities, bringing visual storytelling that captures cosmic-scale threats and personal moments. Their collaboration creates something emotionally grounded even when villains enter.

The story picks up after Absolute Power, where Lois Lane gained Superwoman powers originally belonging to General Zod. While Superman adjusts to having a powered partner, Lex Luthor recovers memories wiped during House of Brainiac. His return triggers immediate danger for everyone in Metropolis.

Love and Mercy works because it treats Lois's situation not as wish fulfillment but as genuine complication with costs. Having powers comparable to Superman's doesn't make someone ready for the responsibilities. Lois discovers being Superwoman while maintaining her identity as a journalist creates unexpected conflicts throughout.

The supporting cast gets meaningful development rather than existing just to react to battles. Mercy Graves runs Supercorp in Lex's absence, creating her own agenda that complicates power dynamics. Her role adds layers beyond simple hero versus villain confrontations, making the conflicts feel more complex and politically charged.

What elevates this beyond standard Superman versus Lex battles is incorporating Lois's perspective as someone experiencing failing superhuman abilities. Williamson writes her struggle authentically, showing how temporary power doesn't erase journalist instincts and human vulnerabilities. She remains Lois Lane even with heat vision and super strength.

One particularly effective element involves relationship dynamics between Clark and Lois as equals in power but not experience. Their partnership gets tested in ways that feel fresh despite decades of stories. When they disagree about strategy or tactics, both perspectives carry weight and validity based on their different backgrounds.

The mythology-building around Lois's Superwoman powers adds depth to her character arc. Williamson establishes clear rules for what she can do, how abilities differ from Superman's despite similar origins, and what physical toll extended use takes. The powers aren't unlimited, which creates genuine tension during major battles.

The villain roster includes Lex Luthor, Doomsday and Time Trapper, each bringing different threats requiring different responses. Doomsday represents physical danger Superwoman isn't prepared to handle alone. Time Trapper introduces temporal complications. Lex provides intellectual and personal antagonism that cuts deepest because he knows Clark and Lois intimately.

The pacing balances quiet character moments with explosive action sequences across Metropolis and beyond. When Superman and Superwoman fight together, choreography demonstrates both their synchronization and different fighting styles. Lois brings reporter instincts to superhero work, approaching problems differently than Clark's traditional methods would suggest or allow.

What makes emotional stakes land is Williamson's focus on how Lois's failing powers affect her sense of self. She's not just Superman's powered girlfriend but someone trying to figure out who Superwoman is and whether that identity survives without abilities. The internal conflict perfectly mirrors the external threats.

The connection to previous storylines enriches the narrative without requiring readers to have read everything before. References to House of Brainiac and Rise of the Superwoman provide context, but the story stands alone. New readers can jump in while longtime followers appreciate the continuity threads woven throughout.

What makes the resolution both satisfying and bittersweet is how it refuses simple happy endings while providing closure. Lois's powers burn out by the conclusion, removing Superwoman abilities but not erasing lessons learned. The ending reshapes Superman and Lois's dynamic going forward in ways that feel permanent and meaningful.

Artwork by Dan Mora, Eddy Barrows and Eber Ferreira deserves major credit for selling both spectacle and intimacy. Their Superman and Superwoman feel powerful without losing humanity beneath costumes. Visual storytelling incorporates body language that conveys relationships even during massive action sequences against Doomsday and other major threats.

Contributions to the visual narrative by Jamal Campbell add distinctive moments of intimacy and power. His panel work complements overall art direction, ensuring tonal consistency across different artistic voices while maintaining iconic presence. When masks come off, emotional vulnerability shines through in every carefully composed frame.

Character designs honor Superman mythology while giving Superwoman distinct visual identity reflecting Lois's personality rather than copying Superman's aesthetic. When artists show Clark and Lois in civilian moments, those panels carry weight contrasting beautifully against larger-than-life superhero sequences. Lex's menacing return gets framed with appropriate visual gravitas.

Joshua Williamson's writing maintains emotional authenticity even when dealing with fantastic concepts like temporary superpowers and time-traveling villains. Dialogue feels natural for every character without homogenizing voices. Lois speaks like a reporter, Superman remains earnest, Lex drips with intellectual superiority that makes him genuinely threatening.

Superman: Love and Mercy succeeds because it explores what happens when Lois Lane temporarily has Superwoman powers without treating it as simple power fantasy. This storyline examines both appeal and cost of superhuman abilities while delivering explosive action sequences. The premise gets taken seriously from beginning to end.

The character work gives both Clark and Lois meaningful development respecting their established natures while allowing growth. Lois's journey as Superwoman and its conclusion feel earned rather than arbitrary, making power loss hit with genuine emotional weight. Their relationship evolves in ways that will resonate forward into future stories.

This storyline won't redefine Superman comics but delivers exactly what it promises through genuine exploration of partnership, power and identity. For readers wanting Superman stories balancing cosmic threats with personal stakes, Love and Mercy offers compelling reading. The execution matches the ambition throughout.

If you want Superman facing challenges testing his relationship with Lois as much as his strength against villains, this delivers thoughtful superhero storytelling never losing sight of what makes these characters special in every single way. Sometimes that's all you really need from a fun comic-book experience.

Superman: Love and Mercy gathers Superman (2023) #24-27 and Superman: Lex Luthor Special #1, collected in a trade paperback through DC Comics. Physical editions can be found through major retailers and digital copies are available through ComiXology and DC Universe Infinite.