Sometimes bigger really is better.
A sequel to 2018’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse justifies the fact that I just had to type “spider” four times. An expansion of the first film aesthetically, emotionally, thematically, and spiderly, the movie tops its predecessor in ways that are exhilarating, not exhausting.
Across the Spider-Verse finds Miles Morales (once again voiced by Shameik Moore) at 15, struggling to juggle all the identities he wears at that formative age: son, student, friend—and, yes, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man of Earth-1610. As if this wasn’t anxiety-inducing enough, Miles gets a visit from Gwen Stacey (Hailee Steinfeld), who informs him that there is a secret spider-hero society trying to hold the multiverse together, and that Miles might be the reason it’s beginning to fall apart.
That may give you shivers of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s faltering Phase Four, but don’t fear. Written by producers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, alongside Dave Callaham, Across the Spider-Verse uses the many, many spider-heroes we meet for more than fan service (though they serve that purpose too, and delightfully so). The idea that each of these characters has suffered great loss due to their heroic pursuits—something described, in a meta touch, as a “canon event”—has both emotional and thematic resonance. Even as it tears at their individual psyches, it binds all of these spider-heroes together. As Gwen says about Miles in the opening section: “He’s not the only one.”
That extended opening—a Spider-Gwen mini-movie, really—also exemplifies the aesthetic brilliance on display in Across the Spider-Verse. Led by directors Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson, the animators lend clarity and excitement to the action, humanity to the characterizations, and—above all—a distinct vision for each of the worlds we visit. Gwen’s, for instance, employs a painterly, watercolor effect that interacts with the emotional tenor of the scene at hand. During a moment of confrontation between Gwen and her father, the background colors drip into each other, as if the walls are weeping.
My favorite shot takes place in the Brooklyn of Miles’ world, as he and Gwen share a moment of reflection atop a skyscraper. Tying her hair into a ponytail, Gwen scurries under an overhang and sticks herself there in a sitting position, essentially sitting upside-down. Gravity pulls her ponytail to the bottom of the screen, but then, as Miles joins her, the “camera” flips. In the resulting image, Gwen’s ponytail appears to defy gravity, while the city skyline looks inverted in the background. It’s an ingenious way of depicting two teens whose world(s) have been upended, in both thrilling and terrifying ways.
There is much more that could be said about the film, but perhaps the highest personal praise I can give Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is to convey my enthusiasm for how it ended. Unbeknownst to me at the time of my viewing, this is part one, with Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse scheduled to be released in March of 2024. Rather than feeling manipulated or ripped off, I can’t wait to type “spider” again.
(6/1/2023)
