Warning: Spoilers ahead. The problem with the Green Lantern is he is so accessible one misses Superman and his being Superman.

Let me explain. There is no way at all for Superman to reveal himself, much less show his face. There is no way for Clark Kent to tell anyone, not even Lois Lane, that he and Superman are one and the same. The problem is not just the teeny-weeny bit of a mask that somehow does not really mask the identity of the superhero—Green Lantern or Superman be it—but the fact that superheroes never admit their identity. Anonymity is sublime humility. Humility enhances heroism.

The excitement—and the pain—of the relationship between Lois Lane and Superman is one of a kind mainly because we know that it is one that will never find consummation. The bitterness and the sweetness that underline the love the two may have for each other are multiplied to the height of angst and anxiety when Lois Lane practically ignores the human version of Superman in the person of Clark Kent.

How many prayers were uttered by girls and men, as well, when Lois Lane looked into the eyes of the man named Clark Kent? It didn’t matter really if one was looking into the eyes of love. It was the uncertain certainty that made all hearts quake and melt.

How many screams echoed in the chilly darkness of the theater when the squint of Lois Lane was a few inches away from encouraging her to pose the penultimate question: Are you Superman? Not since the days of the Empress Dowager of the formidable Helen Hayes to the elegant Anastacia of Ingrid Bergman has the absence of conclusions been more important and spine-tingling and charming as that which arises from the true identity of Superman.

The myth—and the numerous adventures—of Superman persist because he has, even when serving human communities, retained social and metaphysical distance. In the absence of declaring Superman divine, his not revealing his true identity makes him preeminent, give and take the factor of that face being recognizable even to someone with fractured vision. We know the game: The storyteller insists that a woman looking into the eyes of Superman through a wisp of a mask will never see there the bumbling, charming ways of Clark Kent.

Here comes Green Lantern. His origin is almost that of a marginalized person, someone distressed by memories, selected by the Green Ring to be, well, the Green Lantern. It is not a grand genesis, perhaps the better for the audience to easily identity with him. Now, this is the crisis: We do not want to identify with superheroes. With political heroes, yes, but not with superheroes. The more exaggerated and suprahuman their powers are, the magically better. Their ideologies reach out to the ends of the cosmos and not just to the edge of the barangay.

Then there is the issue of the costume and the mask. We all agree—conspire is the better word—that the mask hides the identity of the superhero. Nothing we can do about that, and in that is assurance and not regret. We all agree to that the superhero will seduce, intrigue, incite doubts but will never tell anyone about his true self. Besides, true identities are irrelevant when one talks about superheroes.

In Green Lantern, the superhero does not just reveal himself; he allows to be caught dead and embarrassed by Carol Ferris asking, irritation barely masked (I have to use this word), if it is indeed Hal.

This is not to say that the film is bad. Far from it: Green Lantern as directed by Martin Campbell—who has two James Bond films to his credit (Golden Eye and Casino Royale) —is a visual extravaganza. In theaters equipped with the right sound machine, the film is a high techno lightning-and-fury storytelling. When received with sobriety, some scenarios are like Wagnerian opera sets. A bit of encouraged tongue-in-cheek will allow you to go through the scene of the Guardians, who are forever perched on top of jagged obelisk-like pillars. It is a literal interpretation of Divinities, though this time they are there beyond reach, wise and judgmental at the same time. One is almost compelled to shout at them: Come off it! But you know they will just look at you with eyes that are supposed to be penetrating but do not penetrate anymore given the distance.

What happens when the Yellow Lantern overtakes the green ones? Well, that is not how the question should be phrased. But one of the more entertaining concepts in the film is the play with colors. The color green stands for “will” or mind. Very platonic. Very mental. A monster called the Parallax builds itself to fight against the Green Lantern. The giant monster is built on the yellow foundation of fear. Really interesting, although I beg you not to ask me why it’s yellow versus green. Perhaps the better to set off the color green?

But why green for good? Who knows? Only La Sallians who are celebrating their centenary will find joy in this color. Which is just as well: I get this feeling that the universe heard of the centenary of the good brothers and their contribution to this country that the film got released in all its green glory in time for the celebration.

As Hal Jordan, the man selected by the dying Green Man to wear the Green Ring, Ryan Reynolds is most credible anatomically. When he turns green, he gives you this idea that he is a closeted superhero, biceps and abs and rakish charm. Despite the attributes though, his transformation does not assure us he could save the galaxy from the monster that puts to shame the Greek Hydra. Blake Lively is a lovely girl in a lively way. There are moments though when we sense a sliver of the Gossip Girl in her and that’s when we begin to miss not only Superman but Lois Lane. And Christopher Reeves and Margot Kidder.

Green Lantern is from DC Entertainment and De Line Picture, and distributed through Warner Bros.