Spider-Man in the Multiverse of Animated Magic
'Across the Spider-Verse' makes a strong case for animated superhero movies.
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse was a pure delight that came out of nowhere in 2018. I initially mistook it for skippable. (It was not skippable for Spider-Man fans.) However, the multiverse is a concept that quickly wears out its welcome and eventually requires cosmic housecleaning, so I was skeptical they could pull off a second one.
But they did. Or rather, they pulled off the first half of a multi-hour movie. Even though Across the Spider-Verse clocks in at roughly 140 minutes, it’s still not a complete story. This is more of a heads-up than a spoiler, but the movie ends on a cliffhanger, even more so than The Empire Strikes Back did. We have to wait until Beyond the Spider-Verse for the conclusion. Nevertheless, this is a highly enjoyable Part One.
I’ve never been opposed to Miles Morales as Spider-Man. I’m old enough that Peter Parker will always be my Spider-Man, but there’s room for Miles too. The difference between Spider-Men is sort of like the difference between Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation. The latter captures the spirit of the original while modernizing the details for a new audience. You can enjoy both or just one or the other, and that’s fine. Granted, it is a little awkward when Peter and Miles coexist in the same universe and both answer to Spider-Man, so I think it works better when they coexist across a multiverse.
Into the Spider-Verse served Miles especially well by focusing on a core part of Spider-Man’s appeal: He’s the original everyman superhero. Peter Parker wasn’t gifted with any superhuman morality, and he’s no natural, but he rises to occasion again and again, all while trying not to mess up his personal life too much. He’s the superhero who could be you, and Miles fills the role of you in the first movie. And so does Gwen, as well as all the other alternate Spider-characters.
The Spider-Verse is one of those concepts that really shouldn’t work, particularly considering how down-to-earth your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man tends to be. But it is a creative way of depicting that everyman concept. The genius of Spider-Man’s costume design is that it allows all kids to imagine themselves behind that mask. The Spider-Verse extrapolates that idea, showing us a wide range of other possible Spider-People.
The new movie leans into the question of Miles’s legitimacy in an interesting way, and it also leans into a classic superhero theme—the value of each individual life. And no, that’s not a “well-worn” superhero theme; it’s a fundamental superhero theme.
Spider-Gwen receives much more development this time, and we meet quite a few additional Spider-Men, Spider-Women, and Spider-Animals. The opportunity for fun cameos is too great to pass up, but they never overtake the movie.
A notable addition is Spider-Man 2099. Marvel’s 2099 line came out around the time I started reading Marvel Comics, but I never got into those books. I was still getting to know the main versions of the X-Men, Spider-Man, etc., so an alternate future timeline didn’t interest me. I can’t speak to what Spider-Man 2099 fans might think of Miguel in this movie, but within the context of this story, he’s a compelling character and great foil for the more traditional Spider-People.
One of my pet peeves is when a main villain is portrayed as nothing more than a joke. I expected that to be the case with the Spot in this movie, because, well, he’s the Spot. But he only starts out as a joke. His threat level steadily and organically escalates throughout the movie. Plus, his power set fits the animation style perfectly. He generates little black portals that can send objects and people popping in and out from all directions, leading to wonderful visual chaos.
At one point, Miles and Gwen are conversing while sitting upside-down, so the movie flips the image, making them appear rightside-up while buildings hang down from the sky in the background, like stalactites. This sort of visual cleverness really helps the movie come alive.
Moments like that and characters like the Spot can pretty much only work in animation, and the Spider-Verse movies make a strong case for animation being the optimal medium for superhero adaptations. Live-action movies have come a long way since the days when Michael Keaton had to wear a Bat-suit of immense immobility, but nothing can beat the fluidity of superheroes in high-quality cartoons. (And quality is key—the 1940s Superman cartoons look far superior to the 1960s Superman cartoons, even though you’d think it would be the other way around.)
I always thought the Fantastic Four would be perfect for a series of animated movies. Given the nature of their powers and typical FF storylines, they were born for animation. Plenty of other superheroes would also be a great fit. It would be a matter of matching the right character with the right animation style, like matching the right artist with the right comic book series.
Of course, I’m not suggesting that we should only have animated superhero movies. As with Peter Parker and Miles Morales, animation and live-action can coexist, perhaps just not in the same fictional universe.