‘Spider-Man: No Way Home’ proves that even the best of the MCU is still just okay
Spoilers Ahead
Released toward the end of last year, Spider-Man: No Way Home is currently receiving almost unanimous acclaim; the film has a 94% on Rotten Tomatoes, an 83 on Metacritic, and rave reviews all over YouTube, the podcasting-sphere, and general fan forums.
In a lot of ways, it deserves the hype. Even 27 movies in, No Way Home is absolutely the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s most successful product of fan-service to date, being, in essence, a tribute to Spider-Man as a character, at least thus depicted in the superhero’s three separate live-action film adaptations of the 21st century. Rumors that No Way Home would include cameos from the leads of Sam Raimi’s 2002 trilogy starring Tobey McGuire, along with Marc Webb’s 2012 reboot starring Andrew Garfield, turned out to not only be true but maybe a little undersold. McGuire’s and Garfield’s takes on the iconic Spider-Man don’t just inspire guest appearances, their respective Peter Parkers are fully interwoven into the film’s plot once the actors arrive on-screen alongside Tom Holland as the MCU’s Spider-Man since 2016. If you’re a fan of any Spider-Man film at all, I’d recommend Spider-Man: No Way Home as an apt installment for all three franchises.
It’s still disappointing. Though director Jon Watts has worked to hone his Spider-Man franchise’s comedic tone over the course of three films–taking advantage of Holland’s raw boyishness to tell a coming-of-age story that’s effectively endearing–No Way Home won’t cure those with Marvel-movie fatigue as Disney’s artistic stranglehold forces the film’s most impactful moments to remain scarce and missing a sturdy foundation.
Raimi’s Spider-Man 3 in 2007 was widely criticized for its overabundance of villains–a whopping three. Although that panning had a bit to do with particular casting choices, it says something that in 2021, No Way Home can feature a plot with two more antagonists than its 2007 predecessor and avoid such negative press. Since the villains are introduced in congruence with one-another, No Way Home solves Spider-Man 3’s messy pacing issues, but the character development within this newest film’s on-screen story is inferior to any plotline within Raimi’s trilogy. Whatever sympathy Holland’s Peter and the audience are expected to extend the antagonists rests somewhat on the script’s compassionate portrayal of them, but even that is achieved mostly through dialogic exposition quickly running through the plots of prior films.
What’s more helpful is the attachment filmmakers assume a dedicated Spider-verse viewer will come to the theater already wielding. Unlike in the mid-2000s, the audiences of Marvel films today are encouraged to approach a new entry into its universe with prior knowledge for the stories that uphold the MCU’s evolving narrative. You don’t have to watch multiple scenes of set-up to be on board with No Way Home’s central conundrum because the other movies (other MCU movies and the earlier Spidey franchises) are the set-up.
I don’t want my objections to the MCU’s branding to read as if I’m against this kind of serialized story-telling. Especially for comic-book and book series adaptations, there’s tremendous potential for multi-part cinematic epics to explore long-winded narratives that stand-alone features could never accomplish. No Way Home is almost an example of this potential being realized, but it misses the mark just as every recent Marvel film does. With a cinematic universe that now encompasses 27 feature-length films released, 12 in development, and roughly 17 TV shows (I say “roughly” because I have no clue what’s still considered canon and there’s like four new ones set to premiere this year), the ever-expanding universe exists with little reverence for individuality.
Marvel movies are easily identifiable, not only because they adhere to superhero genre tropes, the franchise’s creative leads make sure all the MCU’s content appears cohesive to its brand. The movies employ a flat style of lighting which evokes sit-com more than feature-film but ensures actors are always in peak, photo-ready form. Despite a few exceptions, the cinematography within each film is typically unadventurous, almost all of them utilizing a similar color palette and muddy methods of color-grading to match one another in a shared mediocrity. Especially as time’s gone on, an over-reliance on CGI and green-screens enables the films to be made faster, removing much of the inconveniences of set-building and on-set reshoots, but the effects can only achieve “realistic” while never appearing totally lifelike. As long as every superhero film looks similarly synthetic, audiences won’t know the difference.
Every entry into the cinematic canon is itself an advertisement for adjacent storylines and upcoming developments; no MCU story exists as its own entity. Dr. Strange’s plot in No Way Home isn’t simply a motivator for the film’s conflict, it’s apparently the catalyst for Dr. Strange’s next solo feature, Dr. Strange In the Multiverse of Madness. The title hero of the Marvel Netflix show Daredevil also makes a cameo in No Way Home that’s essentially useless to the film’s plot, yet likely sets up for continued appearances in upcoming adaptations.
The requirement to connect every Marvel film to its overarching universe weighs No Way Home down even from the collateral damage of previous films. Peter Parker as a character, in his comic-book origins and their cinematic adaptations, is defined by a frequent emphasis on his humanity against his heroics; he has superpowers, but he also faces poverty, interpersonal conflicts, and the constant existential burden of responsibility. Entertaining as Watts’ Spider-Mans are, it’s hard to explore Peter’s more relatable battles when he’s placed into a universe that makes him the chosen successor of a billionaire, constantly surrounded by more competent super-folk. “With great power comes great responsibility” is an imperative line for every Spider-Man franchise thus far, but as it appears in No Way Home, the sentiment loses some substance once the character it targets keeps meeting people with more power than him who know how to wield it more responsibly than he does.
In Raimi’s Spider-Man 2, Peter Parker’s identity as Spider-Man causes genuine troubles in his life. He can barely pay his rent because he can’t hold down a job. Sudden emergences of violence makes him unreliable as a friend, thus vital relationships suffer. Even his academic performance flops as his crime-fighting gets in the way of school work. All of this leads to a break-down in which his superhero powers begin to diminish; he loses his commitment to Spider-Man’s mission because being a superhero in his world is really fucking hard. By contrast, Holland’s Peter in No Way Home suffers a lack of faith because his newly-public identity as Spider-Man means it’s harder for his friends to get into college by association. The plot is contrived as hell because the MCU’s Peter Parker was never grounded enough in reality to produce an organic conflict. Despite an off-hand comment about being “broke,” he has a proximity to wealth that wouldn’t allow him to struggle financially. By this third film, all of Peter’s friends know that he’s Spider-Man and actively involve themselves in his exploits; in some ways, it seems his superhero status has deepened their bond. Despite what should have been major setbacts due to the whole fighting-super-villains thing, Holland’s Peter is also still doing well enough academically to initially qualify for acceptance into his dream school at MIT.
Whatever relatable problems Holland’s Peter could have gets lost in the spectacle of Marvel’s messy world-building. It’s all the more obvious as No Way Home attempts moments of emotional sincerity that are frequently undermined by its universe’s nauseating attempts at postmodern irony. Becoming acquainted with the multiverse Peters, Holland’s character begins considering some core aspects of his identity that are supposed to feel heavy, and yet the movie continuously takes jabs at the silliest aspects of itself and previous franchises to score points for self-awareness. It asks: Isn’t the origin of The Amazing Spider-Man’s Lizard character ridiculous? Spider-Man 2’s Doctor Octopus sure has a funny name, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t it have been more reasonable for Peter to help his friends by making a phone call instead of permanently altering the fabric of the universe? Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Dr. Strange called him out for that in the script?!
It’s not like the film’s meta-commentary of itself and its origins never hits (there’s a great scene where Garfield’s and Holland’s characters inquire into the McGuire Peter’s ability to bodily produce his own webs; really any scene featuring all three Peters is wonderful), it’s just that superhero films have become so increasingly self-aware they’re constantly undermining their own stories by intermittently reminding their audience, “We know it’s not cool to take these movies too seriously.” Genuine commentary can get so close to fruition but is always swiftly evaded through Marvel’s phobia for earnestness.
Sometimes the family-friendly, apolitical branding of Marvel’s Disney parent company also infringes on the story’s intended significance. The addition of J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson is fun nod to Raimi’s trilogy, but No Way Home never seems motivated for the casting and depiction by anything other than fan-service. That would be fine as a cameo, however, Simmons takes up enough run-time you’d have to assume his character represents something; he doesn’t have the working relationship with Peter that he does in Raimi’s trilogy so he can’t produce the same internal conflict for the film’s lead, and his new aesthetics as a conspiracy-theorist commentator pushing bunk vitamins certainly seems to be referencing right-wing propaganda, yet Simmons has claimed no such allusions were intentional. Considering the imagery’s heavy-handedness, I doubt the director agrees, but it’s true that references aside, there is no real commentary to accompany the undertones. Some warning against misinformation can be inferred but it’s not that important for the conflict and has little consequence thematically because Disney would never want its biggest franchise to genuinely explore a politically-driven problem. It’s all just irony and an excuse to rile fans up with an already beloved character.
Whatever heart Spider-Man: No Way Home has–and it has quite a lot more than most MCU films–its potential is squandered by the fact that Marvel-movie uniformity won’t let it take shape as a true exploration for anything. Adherence to universe-driven narrative structures leaves its main character foundationless for the inner turmoil he supposedly endures while trapped in aesthetics developed to match sibling films. Any excitement from the story comes mostly in its allusions to other familiar content, but the allusions to reality are too toothless to concern themselves with sincere analysis. The film, like the 26 before it, pulls its punches every time because landing an impactful emotional blow just wouldn’t be on-brand for the media conglomerate they all operate in service for.