spider-man: across the spider-verse

We are living in particularly unsubtle times. Cultural discourse is amplified by social media and terminally online fandom to the point that virtually every release is either hailed as a breathless masterpiece or furiously denounced as both a catastrophe and a personal affront. There’s rarely a middle ground - measured critical discussion has been largely drowned out by the screeching din.

Even then, the hyperbole surrounding Sony’s animated “Spider-Verse” franchise can feel particularly extravagant in its rococo bluster. When Into the Spider-Verse released over Christmas in 2018, superhero fatigue - and, more specifically, “spider fatigue” (the film came swift on the heels of the MCU’s Spider-Man: Homecoming, which launched the third live-action iteration of its titular hero in just over 15 years) - conspired to undercut any potential enthusiasm… even as many frantically, almost manically anointed it an instant classic (it didn’t help that Insomniac released a Miles Morales game two years later that was arguably an even stronger, more narratively assured take on the character). However, a recent rewatch reminded what a fundamentally solid achievement the film truthfully is; as rich in emotion as it is audacious in animation. Its expression of the genre feels every bit as imaginative and boundary-pushing as Sony’s other Marvel properties - such as Venom and Morbius - come off regressive and uninspired. More than any other superhero film in recent memory, Into the Spider-Verse functions as a genuine bridge between comic book panel and silver screen. 

All that being said, the hyperbolic fanfare generated by much-anticipated follow-up Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is… a bit much (if your impulse is to declare it the greatest animated movie ever made - brushing aside decades of classic Disney, Pixar’s entire golden age, not to mention all the great Japanese and foreign contributions to the medium - please do yourself a favor and curb that). And yet… the film is good. It’s really good. Undeniably good. And just to indulge in a bit of hyperbole of my own, as the middle chapter of a trilogy (concluding entry Beyond the Spider-Verse is slated to release next year), the story has a scope and dramatic weight and emotional toll and thrilling surge of parting anticipation that’s not unworthy of comparison to (dare I say it) The Empire Strikes Back.

As we pick back up with Miles Morales (once again voiced by Shameik Moore), the Brooklyn teen has settled comfortably into the gig of being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man… even though juggling his secret identity with school and family obligations still poses its own set of challenges. A tussle with fledgling villain The Spot (Jason Schwartzman) - like Rorschach’s bumbling cousin, who creates interdimensional rifts with the blotches on his body - leads to the unexpected return of Spider-Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld), much to Miles’s delight. But Gwen has an ulterior agenda and when Miles impulsively follows her through a dimensional portal of her own, he soon finds himself at a multiverse nexus populated with literally hundreds of different Spider-Heroes… all under the command of the taciturn Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac) - better known as Spider-Man 2099 (as someone who adored Marvel’s 2099 line as a kid - check out issue #7 of Ravage 2099 for a letter to the editor from yours truly - this was almost as thrilling as Spider-Ham appearing in the first movie). And there’s a very specific reason that Miguel - who’s tasked with maintaining the spider-silk delicate balance of the multiverse - isn’t pleased to suddenly find himself face-to-face with Miles.

Across the Spider-Verse may not be the greatest animated film ever made (I mean, honestly - let’s get a grip here)… but there are sequences that genuinely feel as if they’re challenging and redefining the limits of what the medium is capable of. The Gwen-centric opening in particular is a visual marvel - a sensory symphony of sound and color that feels like fireworks detonating directly into your eyeballs. There are so many moments throughout the movie that feel as if the creative team (led by an entirely new trio of directors - Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson) are juicing literal comic book pages to life with zaps of creative current. At times, the taps flow almost too freely (a sequence set in “Mumbattan” feels overwhelming even before Daniel Kaluuya shows up as the disaffected, guitar-wielding Spider Punk, muttering in a cockney accent as thick as a cinder block)… but every narrative choice is carefully considered within the larger context of either Miles or Gwen. They’re the twin anchors around which everything revolves; most comic book movies would be lucky to have one character this strong, let alone two (a predictably toxic discourse over whether Gwen is trans has sprouted on social media, with both sides digging in their heels… but the literal-mindedness of the debate misses the point, which is that superheroes have long been allegories deliberately coded in such a way for people from all walks of life to find potential resonance in them).​

Like all great blockbusters, Across the Spider-Verse achieves an almost synergistic balance between the spectacular and the intimate. The film builds to a rousing set piece in which Miles attempts to find a way back to Earth-1610 while being pursued by a literal army of Spider-Men… but it boils down to Miles and Miguel locked in a literal and philosophical struggle over “the needs of the many vs the needs of the few” (or, from Miles’s perspective, the belief that it needn’t always be such a binary choice). Isaac’s gravitas matches the gaunt, slightly vampiric lines of Miguel’s sunken face - he’s not an antagonist so much as a tormented figure who’s had his unbending worldview shaped the hard way. He delivers some harsh truths that land straight to the gut, shaking the franchise’s “anyone can wear the mask” ethos to its core. The cliffhanger is absolutely killer. We can all rest easy knowing the trilogy’s conclusion is only ten months away… and there’s nothing hyperbolic about that.