On the surface, there’s something that feels unnecessary about Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023). It’s the latest film to embrace multiverse storytelling while celebrating one of the most iconic superheroes of the 21st century. A good question to ask is that after Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) and Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), why would we need to have another round of endless web-slinger ephemera? Have we not reached a breaking point with New York’s finest? Well, for those who are ready to write off this sequel to the Oscar-winning original, I have some bad news for you. If you choose to ignore a film that at times goes full tilt into Spider-Man madness, you are missing out on what is genuinely one of the most exciting, innovative, and emotional comic book movies of the decade.
More than anything, this is a film that lives up to the definition of a crowd-pleaser. If you’re able to see this in a packed theater, don’t skimp on the opportunity. Few characters have earned as much cultural omnipresence throughout the 21st century as Spider-Man, so there’s a good chance that everyone has their own story of fandom. Even if they don’t like Across the Spider-Verse, there’s bound to be one moment where they laugh or gasp. This is a film that wears its geeky heart on its sleeve, recognizing what makes the character awesome without skirting around the goofy and downright embarrassing ephemera. Not since The LEGO Batman Movie (2017) has there been a film that rewards each viewer’s personal history without isolating the greater story. On the surface, it’s an entertaining ride because the guy six rows back may laugh at a 90’s Spider-Man cameo or the girl three seats over will cry over the touching nature of Gwen Stacy’s story.
This film is a lot. In an era where a movie must have everything, everywhere, all at once, Across the Spider-Verse lives and dies by the code. The animation has clearly been crafted over the five year hiatus to be its best form, pushing the expectations of mainstream American productions and introducing something fresh and new. It’s there in the expressionistic style. Whole scenes are less grounded in realism and more interpretive, shifting color with the characters’ emotions. The walls turn into watercolor collages while the surroundings turn into abstract boxes. So much is expressed without a word, creating these beautiful images that convey interiority so flawlessly. When contrasted with scenes that feel overwhelmed with color and movement, it’s powerful stuff. There’s even a lengthy monologue set in a minimalist black and white setting that feels written by Don Hertzfeldt. While the whiplash may seem like it’s too much, it just shows how accomplished the crew behind this truly is. This is what the potential of animation now is. We shouldn’t be ashamed to push beyond the boundaries of what came before to find something new.
While animation is a great selling point that has only gotten better since Into the Spider-Verse, I think it’s important to note that this is also one of the greatest comic book stories and the most indicative of the perpetually online culture of the 21st century. More than at any other time in human history, we’re all connected to worlds beyond our own on social media, discovering individuals who may seem like they live different lives, but Across the Spider-Verse recognizes something that is crucial to making this story work. No matter how different we all look, our humanity and struggles are very similar. We are connected on a subconscious level with our motives and drives. These emotions may come out differently, but they’re all there in the ultimate search for social acceptance of our true selves.
It is something that Stan Lee said throughout his career. Spider-Man’s greatest appeal is that he could be anyone under the mask. That’s why there have been so many variants over the years, finding everyone being allowed to explore their own fantasies of who this character is. It’s pushed our understanding of superhero as a concept and, in a time where that definition is rapidly changing, it’s refreshing to see it openly embraced by a major studio film. Having a cast and crew that fuse together their culturally different stories produces something that feels global. Everything feels like a celebration where nobody is excluded.
One of the best examples of this is Gwen Stacy, who allows the grandeur to be personal. Along with every character feeling connected to some greater destiny, Stacy reflects the struggle of recognizing one’s fate. Having been told every other Spider-Man’s story, she’s aware of how her fate is going to play out. Her father, a police officer, will die in the line of fire. In Miles Morales’ storyline, she is the love interest and someone who will die. For fans of previous iterations, there’s already that lingering dread that she will be nothing more than a victim. How does she deal with tempting to alter fate and create a story where she lives? That’s not how this narrative works. Much like Miles being considered the anomaly, this is a story about questioning if our paths are written in stone or if there can be a referendum.
Along with rewarding a loyal fandom with extratextual details, Across the Universe excels at simply being good storytelling. The crux of the story lies in the role that children play in living up to their parents’ standards. Even as they struggle in school, there is an effort to please them. There’s the idea of hiding something important from those you love to protect them. But what happens when the outside world becomes aware, when a vulnerable relationship unveils that secret and puts them at risk? It’s not dissimilar from previous Spider-Man films, where suddenly Peter Parker’s family is put at risk. How does one be a hero when everything is working against you? Gwen, despite her familiarity, is the real anomaly. She is a woman who is supposed to be the damsel in distress. She is supposed to be weak, and instead is the voice of reason.
Alas, humanity at the center is the greatest paradox. How could there be infinite worlds where anyone can be Spider-Man but they all end their stories the same way? Shouldn’t there be room for a remix? Into the Spider-Verse was built on that reasoning to great success and Across the Spider-Verse adds a necessary footnote. Maybe it’s a greater commentary on how predictable the comic book story has become. Everyone is wanting certain pay-offs every time they buy a ticket. The safety of the recognizable is what draws us in, so to have Gwen turn the meta technique into an existential drama is revolutionary. There is an endless bevy of action that dazzles, but it all comes at the expense of a greater thesis. Why are these heroes risking their lives? How is it bettering their lives? Why would anyone want to do this at all?
Without delving too far into the story, another thing that works very well is the use of villainy. This time around, The Spot is villain du jour. Had this been on a TV series, he’d probably only show up for one episode before being laughed into obscurity. The idea of this overweight figure whose body looks like the mix of a cow and a Rorschach Test doesn’t seem like that big of a threat. However, those black circles that line his body are dimensional portals that allow him to transport as he sees fit. He starts as a comic folly, clumsily trying to steal an ATM from a liquor store, and ends as the great unknown. He is the ultimate nothingness. He’s silly yet tragic, weak but unstoppable. How does one even conquer The Spot? As seen in a breathtaking action set piece that took four years to animate, there’s no easy answer. Credit should be given to the Across the Spider-Verse creators for reversing the character assassination of this great rogues gallery doofus.
He's the force that allows the viewer to see sides of the Spider-Verse that are unlike anything that cinema has witnessed. At times he’s stuck in dramatic monologue questioning his own purpose in life. Other points the cinematography turns into a more rudimentary black and white newspaper-style look to convey his complicated past. He is indebted to Spider-Man who “made” him due to an accident. Again questions arise on the role of a superhero not only to do good but prevent evil. The Spot, in every sense, is an accident. How does one overcome a life that feels senseless? Whereas Miles and Gwen’s paths feel evident, The Spot’s greatest benefit is that his are unknown and new.
As a narrative technique, this is all a brilliant deconstruction of comic book storytelling’s past. While the animation is continually presenting something provocative, it’s the characters that keep the viewer wanting to stick around. There’s a sympathy built for everyone that makes developments have greater stakes. The subtext of fate makes the cliffhanger work as more than cheap sentiments. As it stands, the way that it’s crafted leaves an uncertainty that is bound to break from expectations. Hopeful types will wonder how Miles gets out of his dangerous corner while the cynics will contemplate how the sacrifice will bring about a different ending for the self-proclaimed anomaly.
Across the Spider-Verse represents one of the most impressive hat tricks in modern cinema. It’s a sequel that manages to outdo its original while going bigger and at times feeling limitless. Some scenes feel infinite, where the edge of the frame feels like it hides hundreds more details. The effort is on display allowing every audience member to have their own unique experience. Maybe they will feel overjoyed by a reference to an obscure Spider-Man. Maybe they will cry from feeling seen or even relate to Gwen’s familial struggles with her father. Again, there’s humanity at the center that elevates showmanship into a greater form of art. The world is so big, but there’s only one you. Nobody is like Miles Morales. Nobody is like Gwen Stacy. What are they going to do to forge their own legacy amid expectations of both personal (family) and social (superhero conventions)?
What’s probably the most compelling thing about these two films is how it doesn’t feel all that tethered to other contemporary Marvel movies. While there’s a lot of shared I.P., walking out of Across the Spider-Verse is similar to what The Matrix (1999) felt like. It’s unlike anything else, managing to use a diverse pool of ideas to create something brand new. It’s premature to determine whether the Spider-Verse will be hailed as highly as The Wachowski Siblings’ calling card, but it does feel destined. Both delve too far into style and substance in ways that complement studies of our very existence to be anything else. There’s a good chance that even after one watch, Across the Spider-Verse hasn’t revealed all of its intents to the viewer. It may take some time to fully appreciate what’s there.
As a whole, this is one of the most essential superhero movies of the past decade. In a time where sequels are churned out way too frequently, the effort of taking time to build something with love makes a huge difference. This may only be the first half of a greater story, but there’s enough here to constitute seeing it as its own story. The cliffhanger isn’t cheap. If anything, it’s the great philosophical thought that the film has been talking about the whole time. Will things play out differently this time? The tension is so perfectly executed that one can connect red string on a corkboard to find the various conclusions that could be. Given how impressive Across the Spider-Verse is when compared to Into the Spider-Verse, one can hope that the most amazing ideas are ahead of us. I don’t know that it needs to show itself visually anymore. Right now, it simply needs to remember that we care because of the characters. If they can reach a conclusion that is emotionally satisfying, then this whole gambit will have been worth it.
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