I’m not sure how old I was when I first saw Margot Kidder as Lois Lane barreling into her editor’s office to argue her latest story deserved a front page byline. I only know it changed my life.
"Superman: The Movie" was a cultural revelation, and Kidder as Lois felt like a personal one. As a young girl, I latched onto her immediately, missing all the romantic subtext, but glued to her professional acumen — the way she refused to back down, how she was ready to return a barb that won a conversation game, set and match before what she’d said even registered with the adorably awkward Clark Kent. She was the first woman I saw on screen introduced foremost as being good at her job, a professional woman surrounded by men and succeeding anyway. She reminded me of my mom.
When you revisit the stories that shaped you, it’s always a tricky thing. Ever since that first viewing, I’d held Lois Lane close in my pantheon of influences. When I agreed a few years ago to write a new young adult trilogy giving the character an origin story of her own, I knew I’d have to rewatch the movies for the first time in a very long time. That’s where my conception of Lois came from, and I needed to check in with it as I made decisions about my version. What if she didn’t hold up? What if Kidder made me cringe? That wouldn’t matter, I decided, because she’d still have shaped my childhood view of what women could be for the better. So, with nervous resign, I bought a boxed set of the Superman movies, the much-improved Donner Cut of "Superman II," and pressed play.
I shouldn’t have worried. Here’s something to know if you haven’t watched the first "Superman" in a long time: It’s deeply strange. A mix of superhero action and epic origin story, romantic comedy (with bonus newsroom setting) and a somewhat comedic caper. Kidder doesn’t appear until after we’ve seen Brando on Krypton, Clark growing up on the Kent Farm and then going to Krypton College at the Fortress of Solitude to learn about his mission on Earth. When Kidder as Lois at last appears in the viewfinder of Jimmy Olsen, the entire movie takes a breath and relaxes. She meets Reeve as Clark Kent and immediately sabotages him by shaking up a bottle he’s opening for her boss, Perry White, so it will spew. Lois Lane has no intention of being distracted from her job or letting the new guy take her beat without a fight. She just wants to get back to work. Reeve as Clark doesn’t know what hit him. As an audience, we just want more of it.
While there are dated aspects of the movie — it came out in 1978, after all — Kidder and Reeve’s remarkable chemistry and charisma still win the day. Reeve is wonderful, the quintessential Superman; we all know that. But Margot Kidder is just as much a revelation as Lane. She became the quintessential Lois for a reason, a standard setter in the role. I’m still not sure whether my love of fast-talking screwball comedies came from the movies that informed Kidder and Reeve’s performances or from the two of them. Rewatching Kidder, I realized that she brought Rosalind Russell as Hildy in "His Girl Friday" into another era, without seeming to break a sweat. And, of course, Reeve’s transformations between Superman and Clark Kent are equally worthy of a comparison to Cary Grant’s skill at physical comedy.
What lights up the screen to this day are the star performances: Kidder’s Lois Lane and Reeves’ Superman and Clark Kent (the classic love triangle). Lois flusters Clark; Superman flusters Lois. They are played as equals. Clark hovers on the precipice of telling Lois who he is. By the end of the movie, the idea occurs to her and early on in "Superman II" (particularly the, again, far-superior Donner cut) to draw glasses and a hat on Superman’s photograph in the newspaper to compare it to Clark, then she shoots him (with blanks) to prove she’s right. Kidder plays the role with a mixture of public grit and personal vulnerability that only Superman — and the audience — ever see.
You can tell a lot about a Lois Lane hater by what their criticism is. Often it’s that Lois is a damsel in distress. Keep in mind that Kidder kicks a mugger in the face with her heel in one of the earliest scenes in "Superman" and that she's screaming for help, yes, but while she’s hanging out of a crashing helicopter. “But she always needs saving,” people will say. The whole point of "Superman" is that the entire world needs saving. We all need saving. So why is that a flaw only in Lois Lane? What gets her in trouble is that she’s after the story, doing her job to expose corruption. What gets her in trouble is that she doesn’t have superpowers, but insists on behaving like a hero anyway. One of the things that makes Kidder’s performance great is that she captures the imperfection of Lois Lane. No wonder she became a hero for so many of us. We’re not perfect either, but oh does society expect women to be. Still.
Kidder went on to struggle publicly with bipolar disorder, and, again, refused to be shamed for that. Instead she became a powerful voice of honesty about mental health issues. There was reportedly a lot of Lois Lane in Kidder, and looking back, it’s easy to see that shine through the performance. Kidder, who died this week at 69, played many public parts in her life — actress, mental health advocate and activist — but she was best known as Lois Lane and continued to do appearances to meet fans of her in the role.
When you talk to other Lois Lane or Superman fans, a question that usually comes up is who your favorite Lois is -- which actress’s version of Lois Lane is your favorite, your canon, your most essential. My answer to this sacred query is obvious by now. It has always been Kidder. Hearing she’d passed away was a gut punch. She wasn't the first Lois we’ve lost, but like so many others out there, she is my first Lois Lane lost.
But I also got to be grateful, because last year I was able to tell her what she meant to me. She was doing an appearance at the annual Superman Celebration in tiny Metropolis, Illinois, where I was also a guest because that year’s theme involved Lois. I’d taken my selfie with the Noel Neill statue and made my way to the much larger Superman statue on the opposite end of downtown Metropolis. I’m not big on standing in line, but I was happy to stand in Kidder’s — until the event organizers pulled me out of it and put me at the front. Where I waited nervously for Kidder.
When she arrived, I managed to tell her that my life wouldn’t be what it is if I hadn’t seen her up on the screen as a little girl, and about the books I wrote about Lois Lane. She asked me what Lois was like as a teen and I said, “A lot like you in the role, only younger and in the future.” She liked that.
Lois Lane is a cultural icon, one of the most enduring characters in pop culture. Debuting alongside Superman in Action Comics #1 in 1938 and celebrating her 80th anniversary this year, Lois has always been the committed, fearless, tough reporter who isn’t afraid to go to toe-to-toe (or lip-to-lip) with Superman. This week I take great heart in knowing that even as we’ve lost Kidder, her Lois will live on as people continue to discover and rediscover it. More, she will continue to inform the ever-evolving history of an iconic character and live on forever.
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