Film Reviews

Prior to 2018, the character of Miles Morales might have been foreign to all but the most well read comic book aficionados. Morales, an Afro-Latino teenager, debuted in the Ultimate Marvel comic series as Peter Parker’s successor to the Spider-Man legacy in 2011. Unlike Parker, however, Morales never received big-screen treatment. Just as viewers and critics began to burn out on Spider-Man origin stories, directors Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman, and Bob Persichetti announced Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, a computer-animated film focused on the rise of Miles Morales. With the recent momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement, it seems more important than ever to re-examine films that utilize Black or ethnic culture to tell a story, and the cinematic story of Miles Morales feels like one of the most poignant in years. 

My first viewing of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse amounted to an amalgam of adrenaline and awe. As a Latina, I connected deeply with Miles Morales, his family, and his struggles, but as someone familiar with Morales’ story, it became obvious to me that the creative talent behind Spider-Verse poured their hearts and souls into rendering Morales’ previously obscure world onto the big screen. With nearly 150 animators and a slew of musical and artistic talent at its helm, Spider-Verse boldly experiments with myriad cinematic and audiovisual styles that differentiate it even from other animated films. Daniel Pemberton’s score, for instance, blends cinematic orchestration with techno whines, electronic beats, and contemporary hip-hop and R&B while the narrative unfolds through a mix of computer animation, traditional comic styling, and moody environments. The film’s reliance on blending various musical, narrative, and artistic techniques seems particularly appropriate for Miles Morales, who lives a culturally blended life. Such considerations elevate this film above its peers, animated or otherwise.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse’s narrative components outshine even its technical achievements. From the outset, Morales’ experiences as a young man of color in New York shape the film. Morales never explicitly mentions the hardships of being biracial in fictionalized-but-familiar America, but he faces a series of challenges unique to people of color. Morales has trouble adjusting to his new boarding school and tries to sabotage his academic career all while attempting to remain close to his streetwise uncle, whom Miles’ stern, policeman father considers a poor influence. Most importantly, when saddled with the identity of Spider-Man—previously held by the white and beloved Peter Parker—he realizes the folly of trying to act as Parker’s replacement. Into the Spider-Verse skirts around identifying race as one of the film’s most important narrative elements, but even Morales’ unexpected power of invisibility recalls Ralph Ellison and the importance of visibility for people of color. Although Spider-Verse occasionally waters down elements of social justice, it never feels exploitative of Black or Afro-Latinx culture; on the contrary, many viewers might feel seen by the film’s understanding of interracial families, biracial struggles, and the power of visibility. 

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is a phenomenal film but not a perfect film. For a movie about growing up Black and Latino on the streets of New York, Morales has few Black or Latinx friends. The film builds its other diverse characters around tropes or relegates them to silence: for instance, Morales’ Korean roommate, Ganke Lee, plays a significant role as Spider-Man’s sometimes-sidekick and best friend in the comic books, but he becomes entirely mute in Spider-Verse. Likewise, Peni Parker becomes a mish-mash of Japanese pop culture tropes despite her importance as one of the few Japanese American superheroes. Her anime-inspired style might have sufficed to underscore the role that Japanese pop culture plays in her design, but she spends most of the film flouting her computer skills, piloting a mech suit, and fighting in a schoolgirl outfit. Japanese audiences received Peni Parker warmly, but the film does not feature nearly enough Japanese writers or artists in its credits to justify the use of so many tropes. 

Even so, the film does make other efforts to represent diverse characters healthily. The narrative becomes refreshingly gender inclusive by renaming “Spider-Men” to “Spider-People,” and avoids ageist pitfalls by giving Aunt May a significant role as the hero’s tech-savvy coordinator and gadget inventor. The Black and Latinx characters in the film feel multidimensional and alive. Morales’ uncle has compelling, realistic complexity, Morales’ father learns and grows beyond the biases of his uniform, and Morales’ mother emphasizes the strength and resilience of Latina mothers without the sass that Hollywood usually tacks onto them. While the directors appropriately cast Black, Latinx, and Japanese voice actors and feature Black artistic and musical talent throughout the film and soundtrack, Sony Entertainment Films will hopefully ensure that characters like Ganke Lee and Peni Parker receive better treatment in future installations by diversifying their writers and directors and consulting with more authors and artists of color. 
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Despite its occasional missteps, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse serves as a modern benchmark of cinematic ingenuity. Viewers new to Spider-Man’s adventures will find themselves charmed by Miles Morales and the energetic ensemble around him, while those familiar with the franchise will find that the film’s artistic, musical, and narrative achievements have ushered in a timely and most welcome new era of Spider-Man.

—Monica Gudino
University of California, Davis