In the ever-shifting sands of Hollywood’s superhero landscape, where capes flutter and egos clash amid billion-dollar bets, few voices carry as much weight as James Gunn’s. As the co-CEO of DC Studios and the visionary architect behind the rebooted DC Universe, Gunn has a knack for turning underdogs into icons—think Chris Pratt’s Star-Lord transforming from a Parks and Recreation punchline to the heart of the Guardians of the Galaxy. But in a recent, unguarded moment on The Howard Stern Show, Gunn dropped a bombshell that has comic book fans and cinephiles alike buzzing: casting Milly Alcock as Supergirl “might be the best bit of casting I’ve ever done in my entire life.” Not a casual compliment, but a declaration from a man who’s handpicked Dave Bautista’s Drax, Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn, and John Cena’s Peacemaker. With Alcock’s solo film deep in post-production and her debut already stealing scenes in Gunn’s Superman, this isn’t just hype—it’s a signal that the Girl of Steel is poised to soar higher than ever, carrying the weight of a franchise’s future on her shoulders. As Supergirl gears up for a June 26, 2026 theatrical release, Gunn’s effusive praise underscores a pivotal moment for DC: a chance to blend gritty emotional depth with cosmic spectacle, all anchored by a 24-year-old Australian breakout whose quiet intensity could eclipse even the Man of Steel’s shadow.
The road to Alcock’s ascension as Kara Zor-El reads like a comic book origin story itself—one laced with serendipity, sharp instincts, and a dash of HBO dragons. It all began in early 2023, when Gunn and co-CEO Peter Safran took the reins at DC Studios following a tumultuous era of disjointed reboots and underperforming epics. Their mandate? Forge a cohesive universe starting with Chapter One: Gods and Monsters, a slate blending street-level grit (The Brave and the Bold’s Batman) with interstellar epics (Lanterns’ Green Lantern saga). Superman, Gunn’s directorial debut in this new era, was the cornerstone—a fresh take on the icon that ditched the brooding isolation of Zack Snyder’s DCEU for a brighter, more hopeful vibe. But lurking in the wings was Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, a long-gestating adaptation of Tom King and Bilquis Evely’s 2022 miniseries that promised to subvert the character’s sunny archetype. King’s Kara isn’t the wide-eyed optimist beaming from Metropolis billboards; she’s a battle-hardened survivor, orphaned by Krypton’s destruction and fueled by a quest for vengeance that spans alien worlds and moral gray zones. “She saw her entire planet explode,” Gunn has echoed, emphasizing how this version grapples with trauma in ways that feel raw and relatable, far from the CW’s glossy escapism.
Enter Milly Alcock, then 22 and fresh off a star-making turn as young Rhaenyra Targaryen in HBO’s House of the Dragon. Gunn’s epiphany struck mid-binge: midway through the show’s political intrigue and fire-breathing fury, he paused and messaged Safran, “Milly was the FIRST person I brought up to Peter for this role, well over a year ago, when I had only read the comics.” It was a gut punch of recognition—Alcock’s portrayal of a willful princess navigating betrayal and loss mirrored the edge, grace, and authenticity Gunn craved for his Kara. Auditions followed, a gauntlet of screen tests that pitted her against talents like Meg Donnelly (the animated Supergirl’s voice) and Emilia Jones (CODA). But Alcock didn’t just audition; she embodied. “She truly has it all,” Gunn later gushed on social media, her varied takes on Kara’s ferocity and fragility sealing the deal. By January 2024, the announcement dropped like a Kryptonian heat vision blast: “This one is true. Welcome to the DCU, Milly Alcock!” Fans erupted—some with cheers for her Targaryen fire, others with cautious optimism after the DCEU’s Supergirl stumbles.
Alcock’s journey to this cape wasn’t a straight flight path. Born in Sydney in 2000 to a teacher mother and police officer father, she grew up in a creative household, dabbling in theater from age nine. Her breakout came humbly: a 2017 guest spot on The Sleepover Club, followed by the poignant dramedy Upright, where she played a runaway teen opposite Tim Minchin’s grieving everyman. Critics raved about her “raw vulnerability wrapped in steel,” a duality that would define her career. Then came House of the Dragon, HBO’s Game of Thrones prequel, where Alcock’s Rhaenyra—fierce, flawed, and unapologetically ambitious—captured lightning in a bottle. Filming opposite Paddy Considine’s King Viserys, she navigated the show’s labyrinthine politics with a poise that belied her youth, earning a Critics’ Choice nomination and a global fanbase chanting her name. “Milly’s got this quiet storm inside her,” a co-star later reflected. “She’ll whisper a line that hits like a dragon’s roar.” Off-screen, Alcock’s grounded— an avid surfer who credits Australia’s beaches for her resilience, and a vocal advocate for mental health after sharing her own battles with anxiety during House of the Dragon’s grueling shoots.
What makes Alcock Gunn’s “best bit of casting” isn’t just her resume; it’s how she alchemizes King’s deconstructed Kara into something profoundly human. In Woman of Tomorrow, Kara teams with a grieving alien girl, Ruthye (Eve Ridley, of 3 Body Problem fame), on a galaxy-spanning revenge odyssey against the monstrous Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts, channeling Rust and Bone’s brooding menace). It’s less a superhero romp than a character study in grief’s alchemy—turning loss into laser-eyed justice. Gunn envisions it as a “big science fiction epic,” evoking Guardians of the Galaxy’s ragtag heart amid interstellar vistas: think zero-gravity dogfights with Krypto the Superdog (voiced by a yet-unannounced talent) and psychedelic alien bazaars where Kara confronts her survivor’s guilt. “It’s a space adventure with emotional depth,” Gunn teased, hinting at themes of found family that echo his Marvel triumphs. Director Craig Gillespie, the mad genius behind I, Tonya’s ice-skating savagery and Cruella’s anarchic flair, brings a kinetic edge—expect balletic brawls on asteroid fields and hallucinatory flashbacks to Krypton’s fiery end, all scored with a synth-heavy pulse that nods to John Williams while forging ahead.
Production on Supergirl kicked off in early 2025 at Warner Bros. Studios Leavesden, the U.K.’s sprawling soundstage haven, transforming foggy English backlots into cosmic frontiers. Alcock, donning the iconic blue-and-red suit (updated with a nod to King’s angular design—flowing cape, no skirt for that warrior vibe), immersed herself in the role. She shadowed stunt coordinators for wirework mastery, channeling Rhaenyra’s swordplay into heat-vision blasts, and bonded with her co-stars over late-night script reads. Jason Momoa, reprising his DC roots as the chaotic bounty hunter Lobo—complete with mutton chops and a hook hand—brings unhinged energy, his improvised rants reportedly cracking up the crew. Schoenaerts’ Krem looms as a tragic villain, his scarred visage hiding a backstory of interstellar exile, while David Krumholtz (Oppenheimer) and Emily Beecham (1899) round out Kara’s Kryptonian kin as Zor-El and Alura, infusing parental pathos into the chaos. Ana Nogueira’s script, honed from her spot-on Supergirl pilot for HBO Max, weaves King’s eight-issue arc into a taut two-hour thrill ride, balancing vengeance’s thrill with quiet moments of Kara’s alien alienation on Earth.
Gunn’s Howard Stern chat, aired in mid-September 2025, wasn’t mere promo fodder—it was a love letter to serendipity. “We’re editing it right now,” he revealed, his voice bubbling with rare unguarded glee. “Milly Alcock… might be the best bit of casting I’ve ever done in my entire life. I think she’s absolutely stunning in the movie.” Stern pressed: Better than Pratt? Gunn laughed, “She’s got this edge—graceful but fierce. Kara’s not just hopeful; she’s haunted, and Milly nails that duality.” It’s high praise from a director whose gut instincts have minted box-office gold: Guardians Vol. 3’s $845 million haul, The Suicide Squad’s cult reverence. Yet, Gunn’s not blind to risks. The DCEU’s Supergirl, embodied by Sasha Calle in The Flash’s multiverse mishmash, fizzled amid narrative clutter. Alcock’s version, debuting in Superman’s end-credits tease—a boozy, banter-filled crash-landing in the Fortress of Solitude that had audiences roaring—sets a fresh tone: playful yet poignant, a cousin who ribs Clark while wrestling her own demons.
Fan reactions have been a whirlwind of elation and analysis. On Reddit’s r/DC_Cinematic, a thread dissecting Gunn’s quote racked up over 5,000 upvotes, with users dubbing Alcock “the anti-Melissa Benoist”—grittier than the CW’s beaming Kara, but with heart to spare. “She laughed her way through that Superman cameo like she owned the Fortress,” one commenter gushed, while another predicted, “Woman of Tomorrow could be DC’s Winter Soldier—small-scale emotional gut-punch that launches a saga.” X (formerly Twitter) lit up with edits of Alcock’s Rhaenyra morphing into Kara, captioned “From dragon fire to heat vision—Gunn’s genius unlocked.” Skeptics linger, wary after DC’s reboot roulette, but even they concede: Alcock’s post-casting glow-up, from Upright’s indie darling to House of the Dragon’s breakout, proves her mettle. Gunn himself quelled doubts in a Threads post: “Life is wild sometimes. Milly embodies Kara as Tom King envisioned—wounded, wondrous, unbreakable.”
This casting coup ripples across the DCU like a sonic boom. Superman, fresh off its July 2025 premiere (grossing a projected $1.2 billion on opening weekend buzz), positions Alcock’s Kara as the franchise’s emotional fulcrum. Her film’s cosmic scope—blasting off post-Superman—expands the universe’s frontiers, paving the way for Lanterns’ ring-slinging ensemble and Swamp Thing’s earthy horrors. Gunn’s blueprint demands interconnected tales without MCU-style overload: each project a “graphic novel” standalone, with threads like Lobo’s Czarnian chaos tying into Authority’s anti-hero antics. For Alcock, it’s a launchpad to superstardom—post-DCU whispers of a Star Wars lead or Marvel multiverse dip. “Milly’s the spark,” Gunn told Stern. “She’ll light up the sky.”
As post-production hums—Gillespie’s cut reportedly clocking in at a lean 120 minutes, with ILM’s VFX wizards conjuring Krypton’s cataclysm in eye-popping detail—Supergirl stands as DC’s boldest swing yet. Gunn’s rave isn’t hyperbole; it’s prophecy. In a genre bloated with quips and quakes, Alcock’s Kara promises something rarer: a hero whose strength blooms from scars, whose flight defies gravity and grief alike. When she soars into theaters next summer, trailed by Krypto’s joyful barks and Lobo’s gleeful anarchy, it won’t just be a movie— it’ll be a manifesto. James Gunn’s best casting? Perhaps. But for DC’s faithful, it’s the dawn of a brighter, fiercer tomorrow. The Girl of Steel is here, and she’s ready to conquer.
