Spider-Man: Brand New Day is as close as Hollywood has ever come to replicating the true mainstream comic book reading experience, while still remaining artfully cinematic. And I’ve seen a LOT of superhero movies.
Like a thoughtfully developed six issue comic book story arc, the film is episodic but never stilted. Events and moments and guest heroes flow thoughtfully, naturally, intentionally, logically from one to the next.
This also feels like the first time the Marvel Cinematic Universe has fully realized the promise of its integrated concept, moving away from EVENT FILM-thinking where cameos of heroes and villains from prior films pop up willy nilly (perhaps chiefly to sell action figures and t-shirts) toward a deeply immersive world where common sense and natural order dictate superhero interactions.
This tracks given that Brand New Day’s director Destin Daniel Cretton also helmed the equally winning, warm, funny, poignant Disney+ Marvel series Wonder Man. Cretton just really gets it, leveraging all the toys in service to narrative and heart, first and foremost.
The plot picks up deftly from Jon Watts’ excellent Spider-Man: No Way Home (a film that was EPIC!, not necessarily to its detriment but definitely with commercial designs sharing the driver’s seat with more artistic notions). After a veritable multi-verse of Spider-Men (and villains) in that film converge to make Tom Holland’s MCU Peter Parker’s life a living hell, Parker convinces Dr. Strange (an arch and world-weary Benedict Cumberbatch) to erase all knowledge of Parker’s existence and secret identity from the world, including those who know and love Parker most.
Brand New Day could have ended up a mopey slog as Parker tries to navigate life without the safety net of friends and family, notably his girlfriend MJ (the soulful and sparkling Zendaya) and his best friend Ned (Jacob Batalon, still reveling in his second banana status but bringing more nuanced and layered reactions this go ‘round). The film does a fine job balancing the tragedy of Parker’s isolation with the whiz bang pyrotechnics of a superhero using high-flying crimebusting as the ultimate coping mechanism. Yes, the first quarter of the film is filled with a literal rogues’ gallery of lesser-known Spider-Man villains but it never feels indulgent. We get our popcorn and eat it too.
Into this vigilante mayhem, a shadowy new antagonist enters the scene, nameless and faceless (at first), jumping telepathically from body to body of one innocent bystander after another, eluding our wall-crawler as the unknown villain executes a masterful scheme to infiltrate government agency Damage Control, a group ostensibly helping superheroes by mitigating the “damage” potential of other supes less heroically inclined. You can likely predict where this is going … but the film gets there in a way that is refreshingly unpredictable.
On top of Parker’s pre-existing woes, his arachnid-infused DNA starts to mutate (that will be important later methinks), confounding him with sensory overload and organic web-shooters that have a life of their own. As Parker attempts to unravel both the mystery of his failing powers and his insidious new opponent, he enlists the aid of Bruce Banner/The Hulk (the ever-dependable Mark Ruffalo, a cozy woolen sweater of an actor in all the best ways), Frank Castle/The Punisher (a delightfully low-key unhinged Jon Bernthal, who brings some of the film’s funniest moments in quintessential off-kilter buddy cop comedy schtick with Holland), and Yelena Belova/Black Widow (the dynamite Florence Pugh who takes her deadpan “Boris and Natasha/spy who came in from the cold” characterization to slyly hysterical new heights here).
At this point, you could be thinking (if you are one of the three people who HASN’T seen this film yet), “WOW, that sounds needlessly complicated and overstuffed.” And yet refreshingly, the movie is anything but. Each of the guest heroes has a distinct purpose to play, in commitment to the plot, moving it along logically, and with very neatly and distinctly drawn relationship ties to Parker. These characters aren’t just showing up to show up, kill time, or distract the audience. They enrich the film’s perspective and meaning, illustrating in part that Parker isn’t as alone as he fears himself to be and more importantly that none of us can save our world on our own. At one point, Belova observes in a video call with Parker, now reunited with Ned and MJ, “I’m just so happy the sad man has friends.” Trust me, you will laugh heartily when you hear how Pugh delivers that line.
The film is shot in gorgeous, golden light, never garish, evoking the look of a comic book in a dreamlike way, mirroring Parker’s lost state. The many, many, MANY fight scenes are never tedious as, again, they serve to propel Parker along his tortured path of reclamation and rediscovery and healing. The battles are choreographed and stylized to maximize Holland’s dance background. This is comic book mayhem staged as ballet.
Michael Giacchino turns in a score that is less burbling and percolating than he usually delivers. Awash in 80s synths, the soundtrack (also peppered with some fabulous pop rock deep cut needle drops) echoes, like a sweepingly symphonic, swirling stomach ache, the inescapable nightmare-scape in which Parker finds himself.
And I really, really, really don’t want to squelch the surprise around the film’s unseen telepathic assailant. Spoilers already abound on the internet – from the production team itself. The film has been released for nearly a month and half now. Nonetheless, I’m not going to reveal more than that a spiky and mournful Sadie Sink introduces a Marvel legend back into the MCU fold in a way that creates both heartbreak and feverish anticipation for the next 83.5 cinematic installments that are likely to come.
This is a film about finding oneself, and it could have devolved into a mess of maudlin cliches. It never does. That is in great part due to director Cretton’s empathic craftsmanship and especially to Holland’s heart-wrenching turn. Yet, Holland never loses the boyish adventuring joy he has always brought to the part. In some parallel universe, there would be serious Oscar conversations about the film and notably Holland’s performance. There were moments in the film where I found myself sobbing and giggling, practically simultaneously and utterly unexpectedly. THAT is rare and why I dearly love movies.
Dying is easy, comedy is hard. Comparably, keeping summer blockbuster butts in seats while also giving us a true hero’s journey from his shattered ground zero to his world-weary but hopeful affirmation, while still making us laugh and gasp, and, yes, marvel is a true high-wire act that deserves recognition. Doing so, while leaping and bounding through two-and-a-half hours in a red and blue leotard is nothing short of remarkable.