Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse Review - How I Got Dune'd.

When Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse came out way back in 2018, I was honestly quite amazed by it. An animation style I’d never seen before, a soundtrack that was tonally perfect and a story that felt familiar, comforting and yet challenging enough to break away from the milieu of superhero films that had formed following Marvel’s cinematic experiment. Which is why it paines me so deeply to find that its sequel, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, felt something of a scam and betrayal of its great origin.

When Across the Spider-Verse finished, my initial thought was, did anything actually happen in that movie? My friend and I looked at each other and realized we had unknowingly been what we described as Dune’d. The movie amounted to almost nothing, not much happened narratively across the film, and the visuals and sound design were, for better or worse, at the foreground of the experience. The best part? There was an unbeknownst sequel to follow. The difference of course, is that Dune was always going to be a series, and its deliberately slow and somewhat tortuous delivery felt intended and calculated. It didn’t shy away from showing its clear intention that this was part of a bigger story.

Not so, unfortunately, in Across the Spider-Verse’s case. The excessive run time and elongated scenes made for an overly-bloated film that felt painstakingly slow at times, especially in the two introductions – yes there are two introductions, and both about twenty minutes each. Despite having so many characters to flesh out, so many vibrant locations, and so many narratives to explore, the film continued to feel somewhat empty. I would have thought that with so many spider-people the film would string together its plot more effectively.

Before completely deriding the film, I will note that there are redeeming merits. The new villain, Spot, seemed interesting enough conceptually, but his initial encounter with Miles left me with a sense that I’d seen enough of his charming wit already, as their fight lasted considerably longer than it should have. And of the large new cast of characters, all were likeable and enjoyable to watch. The incredible stripped-comic-meets-motion smeared animation continues to set a sky-high standard across all animation, and this is supported by some beautiful shots, especially those extreme longs where perspective is highlighted by juxtaposing Miles against the city. For those who know me well, you may already know that my phone background is the iconic shot of Miles falling back into the city from the first installment. Similarly invigorating scenes fill Across the Spider-Verse. The film also does often feel authentic with some of the issues it deals with, and this effort is empowered by its stylized, curated hip hop/trap soundtrack that feels, as in the first film, in tune with the characterization, tone and issues being explored.

Diverging from Into the Spider-Verse, however, Across the Spider-Verse loses this authenticity when it succumbs to the incessant self-referentialism of Hollywood. Too many times did I hear lines of misplaced references that felt neither genuine nor clever, but cringey. Too many times did I see direct references to the already poor “universe” that has been created in this Marvel-Sony cacophony of Spider-Man movies. It’s not fun to watch, it’s not funny to hear, and it continues to alienate those who are not so accustomed to these universalized worlds.

What’s worse, is that it betrays Into the Spider-Verse’s adept ability to perform self-critique through ironic and canny referencing, considering well how pervasive Spider-Man, in its entirety as a media franchise, is in popular culture. Why can’t we learn the lessons from the original Sam Raimi trilogy? Sequels should not be viewed as a chance to take things bigger and bolder, or, to the maximum of an idea’s potential scope. Spider-Man 3 showed that stories don’t need to go bigger, they need to go deeper, as is the case with its very successful predecessor, Spider-Man 2. Why too can’t we learn the lesson from No Way Home, that paying fan service doesn’t do anyone justice, not the audience nor the filmmakers. Self-referentialism has no place unless sat alongside concrete and firm irony, with films needing to be highly self-aware of what they’re looking to achieve by using it.

Annoyingly, I’m now torn. On the one hand, I know I must see this two-part through. But on the other, I’m not happy about it, and I don’t hold much hope that its sequel will be anywhere near the class that Into the Spider-Verse was in. Unfortunately, Across the Spider-Verse, whilst showcasing slick animation and sublime music, amounts to merely nothing. It’s a great betrayal of what Into the Spider-Verse represented, a unique and original film amongst a myriad of acceptably average Marvel movies. What a shame.