Superman & Lois dives into life of Clark and Lois. They juggle parenting twin boys and saving Smallville. Facing fresh challenges and old foes, they balance personal and work lives. All while keeping secret identities hidden. This show highlights love, grit and bravery of this legendary duo as they shield family and world from threats.

Meet the characters from Superman & Lois

Clark Kent

Clark is that impossibly steady heart-of-the-town type but also the guy who can literally lift a bus, which is hilarious if you think about how he pretends to struggle with office chairs. He’s soft-spoken and kind and will bring you milk when you’re sick, then turn around and quietly fix something no one even knew was broken. He loves the farm way more than he should for a Daily Planet reporter (and yes, he does have a suspiciously spotless flannel collection). Glasses are his whole shtick — completely unremarkable and also somehow the most dramatic disguise in TV history.

Lois Lane

Lois is pure, relentless curiosity with a side of caffeine and elbow grease; she’s the reporter who will crash through a press conference and still make time to text her kid back. Fierce as hell, she hates being underestimated and will toss you a cutting quote while secretly worrying about your dog — or is it her plants? — anyway, she collects mugs (a lot) and says she can’t cook but somehow feeds people emotional truth like it’s a casserole. She’s brave, messy, brilliant, and will never shut up about a lead until it’s dead or she is.

Jonathan Kent

Jonathan is quiet in the way that actually means “calculating” and “feels everything,” he’s the thoughtful one who scribbles lyrics in the margins and then acts like he didn’t. Responsible, a little broody, protective of his family in a very low-key, almost embarrassed way, and suspiciously good at fixing old things—phones, fences, egos. He’s into playlists that make zero sense together (country, synthwave, some indie thing you’ve never heard), and he claims he doesn’t like sweets but always has one emergency granola bar.

Jordan Kent

Jordan is chaotic energy with heart, the kid who’ll prank you and then apologize with a hand-drawn comic that makes you cry a little. Tech-savvy and impulsive, he’s equal parts rebellious and deeply loyal — the kind of kid who posts a silly meme at 2 a.m. and then shows up when it counts. He loves superhero lore in a way that’s almost embarrassing (especially because his face is a walking spoiler sometimes) and also collects hot sauces like trophies. There’s anger under the jokes, sure, but also a goofy, enormous capacity to care.

Kyle Cushing

Kyle is loud and a little rough around the edges, the ex-jock-turned-town-tough-guy who actually has a soft spot for underdogs — don’t tell him I said that. He’s quick to snap but quicker to defend, has a mouth like a gutter and a laugh that makes everything less tense (or more, depending on your relationship to him). He grumbles about the “small-town nonsense” while never really leaving, and he honestly makes a mean backyard barbecue (and might cry during slow songs, he swears he doesn’t).

Luthor

Luthor is perfectly polished menace; he smiles like a philanthropist and plans like a chess player who’s been waiting his whole life for the queen to be undefended. Brilliant, charmingly cold, charismatic in a way that makes you want to believe his nicer speeches for approximately three seconds. He has weird little hobbies that are almost too cliche — bonsai trees, bespoke suits, a collection of monogrammed pens — and also a thin, ridiculous fondness for cats even though he’s allergic and it makes him sneeze dramatically. Power is his favorite flavor; it’s subtle, like he savors it slowly and then swallows the room.

Morgan Edge

Morgan Edge is corporate slickness wearing a tailored smile; he’s the kind of media mogul who smells faintly of expensive cologne and bad intentions. He talks about “vision” a lot but mostly means control, and he has this old-Hollywood charm that’s equal parts terrifying and magnetic. He enjoys the theater of things — dramatic pauses, staged coincidences — and weirdly likes classical music while blasting trashy TV in his private office. Nostalgic for a past he exaggerates, he’ll promise revival and sell you the demolition contract two minutes later.

Sam Lane

Sam is all military straight-backed intensity and terrible dad-jokes that make you roll your eyes because they’re secretly kind of perfect. He’s blunt, protective to the point of being overbearing sometimes, but his loyalty is stubborn and absolute — he’s not flashy, he just shows up. He collects medals and old newspapers and apparently writes poetry in the margins of government reports (don’t laugh, he’s sentimental). He’ll bark orders and then tuck a photo into his wallet like it’s the only thing that keeps him human.