They did it. They – writer-producers Phil Lord and Chris Miller (along with screenwriter David Callaham) – did it. They – directors Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers and Justin K. Thompson – did it. They – the army of animators at Sony Pictures Animation – really did it. All of them took on the herculean task of following Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, that beloved masterpiece of super-heroism, with something that will surely be almost as beloved, something just shy of a masterpiece itself (time will only tell). That all involved attempted to strike lightning twice, without leaving well enough alone, in itself is an act of bravery rivaling any feat we can point to within the larger, tired genre of capes and cowls. That they thought “let’s make it a trilogy” is a mark of true artistic chutzpah, one that’s two-thirds of the way to paying off handsomely. Here is a sequel that deserves a miles-long freight train filled with box-office receipts, because films this exciting warrant mountains of cash in our sad cinematic landscape of muddy-looking reboots and cynical franchise entries.
Into the Spider-Verse stands as a (visually wild) proof-of-concept no one, until now, dared to replicate. Its closest spiritual predecessor remains Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, from way back in 1988, a gobsmacking exercise of choreographed live-action meeting seamless animation meeting a kaleidoscope of classic cartoon IP. As technical achievements go, both films were sui generis. As works of satisfying character development, sparkling dialogue and whiz-bang storytelling, they stood together and, as a duo, far apart from whatever was happening [waves hand] over there. I use the past tense, because that’s no longer the case. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse thus swings into theaters with swagger and virtuosity to spare. In interviews, Lord and Miller have likened it to The Empire Strikes Back, a claim that’s easy to scoff at, but accurate enough given the natural storytelling beats required of the middle chapter in a trilogy.
The first film followed Miles Morales (Shameik Moore), a Brooklyn teen who is, wouldn’t you know it, bitten by a radioactive spider. Only in his world, a Spider-Man already exists (the canonical Peter Parker of the live-action movies, this distinction is now important). Miles witnesses Spider-Man’s failed attempt to stop a machine that opens portals to alternate dimensions. Peter dies in the process, so Miles takes up the mantle while sideways versions of Spider-Beings, of all genders and species, suddenly arrive in droves. They gang together and triumph over multiple baddies, after which the Spider-People return to their respective universes. Except, Miles has developed deep bonds with Peter B. Parker (Jake Johnson), an older and jaded version of Spider-Man sporting a noticeable paunch, and Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld), Spider-Woman, who gets the atomic arachnoid nibble instead of the Peter Parker in her reality. Miles is also still a kid, navigating relationships with his Puerto Rican mother Rio (Lauren Vélez) and his African-American dad Jeff (Brian Tyree Henry), a police lieutenant. In the end, though, things seemed wrapped up in a nicely tied bow.
Across the Spider-Verse picks up where we left off, but with Gwen first. She’s at once the headstrong drummer in a rock band and a costumed vigilante avoiding her own police officer father (Shea Whigham), who doesn’t know she’s the Spider-Woman he’s seeking to arrest. Miles is in a similar situation, while also pining for Gwen and missing his mentor, Peter B. Parker. A new villain – the Spot (Jason Schwartzman), an anthropomorphic Portal gun, bearing a serious grudge – enters the scene and kicks off a series of events that reunites Miles with the other Spider-Beings. But the central antagonist here isn’t that particular ne’er-do-well. Miles instead battles a future version of Spider-Man, Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac), who’s charged with keeping this whole multidimensional mess in order. We meet dozens upon dozens of new Spideys – some of whom are expertly voiced by the likes of Issa Rae, Karan Soni, Daniel Kaluuya and Andy Samberg – all strings woven into a massive web of arachno-humanoids.
Like its forebear, Across the Spider-Verse is astonishing in its presentation. Comic book panels activate with a panoply of styles reminiscent of a stroll through MoMA in New York City (Impressionism, Modernism, Pop Art, Street Art, et al) along with a survey of Disney and Pixar 2D and 3D standards. Everything is supercharged, hyper-kinetic. Explanatory rectangles “from the editor,” like in the comics, about this or that, appear and disappear in a flash. These pirouettes can be dizzying.
Across the Spider-Verse clocks in long, at 140 minutes. It’s baggy and still ends with an unsatisfying “to be continued” title card. (Not a spoiler: this is, after all, a trilogy.) But it ups the emotional ante for an inevitable conclusion in a way that’s unique for a superhero (and PG-rated!) picture. The stakes are high, sure, not because a Thanos-like deity is going to wipe away half of everything. No, the characters we care about have to somehow save characters they care about from the inevitable. Their ultimate task is to thwart certain death. This series, however, is more interested in vibrant, heart-pounding life.
Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures
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