Co-written by David S Goyer, who also wrote both Man of Steel and Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, Batman v Superman combines the fraught, multi-stranded plotting of the Batman films and the smoke-filled warzones favoured by Snyder. There are discussions of philosophy and theology, or building legacies and losing parents. There is thunderously operatic music by Hans Zimmer and Junkie XL. And there is a colour palette that ranges all the way from black to dingy grey.

Considering that super-powered crime fighters don’t exist, and that there’s no pressing need to fret about their effect on civilisation as we know it, it might be nice if someone would make a superhero film intended to thrill young viewers rather them give them nightmares. But if you are willing to buy into a mean and moody examination of “meta-humans”, as the film calls them, then Snyder is undeniably the man for the job.

The ultimate Batman?

Indeed, BvS feels like the grand culmination of everything he has tried in his previous films, from the stylised brutal violence of 300 to the fantastical dream sequences of Sucker Punch to the subversion of superhero tropes that was there in Watchmen (which, eagle-eyed nerds will note, is referenced in a scrawl of graffiti). Batman v Superman is too overblown and cacophonous for you to care too much about what happens, but it does make you admire Snyder’s feverish energy in taking the genre to bombastic, apocalyptic extremes. Whether or not you take superheroes seriously, there is no doubt that the director does.

Three people in particular are perturbed by the alien in their midst. One is a strong-willed senator (Holly Hunter) who insists that everything should be subject to the will of the people, up to and including omnipotent extra-terrestrials. Another is Superman’s arch enemy, Lex Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg), who is no longer the avuncular businessman played by Gene Hackman, but a long-haired, brattish hipster with disturbing hints of mental instability. It’s a terrific reinvention: this Luthor is a cross between Eisenberg’s Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network and Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight.

The third character who has it in for Superman is, yes, Batman (Ben Affleck). One of the film’s fun innovations is that Batman’s rundown home turf of Gotham (filmed in Detroit) is now just across the bay from Superman’s more elegant Metropolis, so the two superheroes’ inevitable punch-up appears to have as much to do with civic rivalry as anything else. Affleck isn’t half the actor Christian Bale is, but his iteration of the character beats every previous big-screen version, Nolan’s included.

Here at last is the sadistic, fascistic, half-crazed vigilante that comic fans have been waiting for. When he is in costume, he is an imposingly bulky, down-and-dirty brawler who has no qualms about flinging crooks through the walls of derelict houses, or branding them with a bat-shaped iron: for once, you can believe that criminals might actually be frightened of him, rather than laughing at his rubber suit and his growly voice. And when he takes off his mask, he is worth watching as Bruce Wayne, too. Bale played the character as a smooth socialite and rational team-player. Affleck’s Wayne is surly, jaded, and grey at the temples, with a fondness for booze and industrial espionage.