So why not something for the socially repressed across the pond?
How It Got Ludicrous:
What would have happened if Kal-El's rocket had landed not in Kansas, but in Somerset, England? The answer is True Brit. And you can tell right away what you're in for: a metric quantity of irreverent puns.
Monty Python's John Cleese has a co-author credit on True Brit. Now, if comedy was a superpower, Cleese would have a "C" stamped on his chest and a cozy seat in the Hall of Justice. So it's kind of a personal crisis for me to report that this book does for satire what a stillborn Chihuahua does for a rich girl's libido.
So ... no pain, then?
You would expect this Superman to battle uniquely British foes like Maggie Thatcher's dole-zapping lizard henchmen. But no, Superman is too afraid of making a scene to use his powers.
OK, but surely Colin "Superman" Clark at least faces Anglican challenges like tea shortages or naming his kids something even more English than "Benedict Cumberbatch," right? Wrong again. It's 90 pages of Superman stammering haplessly just to belabor the point that British tabloids are shallow rags. Oh, and the villainous news mogul looks like John Cleese, just in case any flush producers were in the market for an adaptation-ready property with a marquee name attached.
The comedy isn't funny, and if there had been action it would also not be funny. With no supervillains to fight, the queen tasks him with making the trains run on time, speeding up their state health care system, and revamping BBC programming into something interesting -- which seems like an unfair request, considering he can't even do that for a Superman comic.
Truly this was Superman's Career Opportunities.