Modern superhero films have kind of mastered a formula: a comfort food of acts and arcs defining who and what makes a hero. Franchises were built across the past couple of decades with select champions saving the world onscreen… again and again. Yet in the 15 years since a once-scrappy Marvel Studios turned comic book movies into pop culture juggernauts, not a single headlining live-action superhero has been Latino. Surprising, considering nearly a third of the domestic box office comes from Latinos, but that’s a whole other story.

It’s in this atmosphere, in 2023, that Blue Beetle finally makes its debut with the first Latino character fronting their own superhero film, one that is written, directed, and starring Latinos. And the weight of a community, as unfair as it is, will once again ride on the shoulders of one movie.

Blue Beetle is stuck somewhere in between what is known as the DCEU (i.e. the darker, grittier movies of the Zack Snyder-led “DC Extended Universe”) and the DCU (i.e. the newly revamped cinematic universe from the studio’s current guy-in-charge James Gunn). Much like the community it represents, the film doesn’t really belong to either, though canonically it references other DC heroes like the Flash and Superman. It stands alone, proudly and loudly boasting its Mexican American roots, and making room for an authenticity that elevates a somewhat familiar origin story by creating its own identity so hella Mexican American that if it were to be called anything else, it would be: ¡A huevo!

Translation: F— yeah!

Directed by Angel Manuel Soto (Charm City Kings) and written by Gareth Dunnet-Alcocer (Miss Bala), the film stars Cobra Kai’s Xolo Maridueña as Jaime Reyes, a new college graduate returning home to the fictional Palmera City before jetting off to law school. That is until his parents inform him of what really has been going on at home while he has been away. Papi, Jaime’s dad Alberto (Damían Alcáza), has lost his job, and the Reyes family is about to lose their home with no financial security. (Both Alberto and Jaime’s abuela/Nana — played by Adriana Barraza — are undocumented.) As the eldest child, and the only one with a college degree, Jaime assumes he can get to work and help his family out, but instead finds only a fancier cleaning gig for the CEO of Kord Industries, Victoria Kord (Susan Sarandon).

On his first day, he steps in the middle of a fight between Victoria; her right-hand muscle, Ignacio, a.k.a. Conrad Carapax (Raoul Trujillo); and her niece, Jenny Kord (Bruna Marquezine). One thing spirals into the next and Jaime inadvertently helps Jenny steal an ancient Scarab. Victoria hopes to use this piece of highly advanced alien technology to build the ultimate military machine, but the Scarab claims Jamie as its new host, transforming him (through a hilarious series of events involving his family) into the armor-clad Blue Beetle.

Blue Beetle differs from the comics in a few ways. Notably, Carapax’s backstory is much different. In the source material, Carapax is an archeologist who haphazardly fuses his brain to an indestructible robot. The film turns him into a Guatemalan war veteran with a tragic origin story that will be all too familiar for some immigrants. Jaime is also aged up some (he’s a teen in the comics), and is from Palmera City vs El Paso, Texas. Khaji-Da, which is the voice of the Scarab (played by Becky G), is already self-aware in the film and acts a bit more like (okay fine) Spider-Man’s Suit Lady from Spider-Man: Homecoming (though a bit more stubborn).

A far cry from the terrible graphics of The Flash, Soto’s action sequences are exciting and impressive. Each fight is well choreographed with not a single shot wasted, particularly in scenes where Maridueña is learning about his abilities. Some may liken that moment to Spider-Man: Homecoming, but it’s here where having a Latino team behind the film matters. Jaime’s transformation to the Blue Beetle happens before his family’s eyes and instead of running away, the Reyes’ each address it with love, some more teasing, and a lot of animo.

What does animo mean? Essentially it translates to “don’t give up,” but the feeling is more like “get your ass up, stop crying, and try again.” Latinos are used to being under-appreciated and left out. The entertainment industry is in Los Angeles, a city where nearly 50 percent of its population is Latino, and still onscreen (and print) visibility is in the single digits. According to the 2023 UCLA Diversity Report, Latinx representation is less than 3 percent across theatrical films, and 6.1 percent of streaming films — a number that seems to keep dwindling despite how in 2022 Latinos bought 29 percent of all movie tickets.

The Latino community is not a monolith, this is true. In fact, it really is only in the United States where people from 23 different countries, with different dialects and different cultures, all get tossed under the same umbrella and then are expected to all connect to the same singular story. Blue Beetle doesn’t demand this of its viewers, filling tiny moments (El Chapulin Colorado, Maria la del barrio, vaporu… just to name a few) with such specificity that there’s no question this is a story about a Mexican American family. It smoothly weaves in messages of displacement and gentrification, while also showing strength, honor, and pride.

The cast, specifically the Reyes’ family, is made up of Mexican and Mexican American actors, a choice made by Soto, who is Puerto Rican. While this may seem like a small thing to someone outside of the Latino community, this is central to why the story works. Because of the dearth of authentic Latino stories, the few that are made have to contain a story that speaks to every single Latino/a/e/x — one to represent all 62.5 million Latin Americans living in the United States. Selena starred Puerto Rican Jennifer Lopez, La Bamba starred Filipino American Lou Diamond Phillips, The Mask of Zorro starred Spaniard Antonio Banderas and Welsh Catherine Zeta-Jones, the classic West Side Story (1963) only starred one Latina, Rita Moreno, and on and on. Blue Beetle is one of the rare opportunities to celebrate a specific part of the Latin community, and it revels in that specificity, only adding more heart to Jaime’s journey to becoming a hero.

In a standout moment near the final act, Soto pays homage to Latina women. It’s subtle but clear, and no mistaking the message: Latinas are strong and fierce women who will defend their loved ones with every ounce of themselves. Fight now, cry later. It’s an endearing and different messaging for a culture that is still battling to overcome its own machismo.

Though at times there’s some clunkiness around how and where Jaime fits in this superhero-filled world, it very much sticks to a very basic origin story — albeit one with lots of messaging around assimilation, gentrification, and resilience, and a script full of humor, slang, and specific visuals that wink at the Latino community. Much of the comedy is well-timed and witty, but others — some George Lopez jokes specifically — feel forced or more loud than funny. Though this is largely the kind of comedy Lopez is known for, playing Jaime’s Tio has the comic delivering some of the most sincere moments that far outweigh the often brash nature of his comedy delivery, making some of those jokes land flat.

But the biggest flaw is not allowing Carapax’s backstory to be revealed sooner. There’s a lot of very specific history that is carried by that revelation, one that is recognized by many Latinos. Adding a name like “School of the Americas” — which is a very real and very controversial school that once existed in the US-controlled Panama Canal zone (later existing in Ft. Benning, Ga. until its doors were closed in 2000) and was nicknamed the “school for dictators” — requires more than a small flash for a fulfilling arc. For the most part, Carapax says very little, the film mainly playing on his appearance. When his story is fleshed out, it is too simple, too quickly shoved in as a last-minute view into his mindset.

Still, Blue Beetle never loses sight of the community it seeks to honor, not once pandering nor offering surface-level representation of what it means to be Latino. Latinidad is complex — it’s more than where you were born, what language you speak, or what food you eat. But one thing it’s full of is heart, and Blue Beetle has plenty of that to go around. Animo!