For a movie produced solely to earn cheap applause from tirelessly nostalgic audiences, it’s not half-bad.
As mainstream films lose their grasp on art entirely in a new nightmarish age of condescension through callback, Spider-Man: No Way José provides a homier flavour to the formula; one that nimbly avoids dishonouring classic imagery and characters by refusing to recreate them as tepid vestiges of what they once were. Reappearing characters end up as little more than caricatures, but their personalities are still intact and true to who they are; Marvel, in their chaotic kaleidoscope of CGI monstrosities and bleak bluescreen backdrops, manges to create nostalgia-bait that is actually respectful, rather than algorithmic.
Repeated instances of fan-service (and yes, there are a lot of them) feel not pandering nor careless; it manages to control these piled-on references so that while they stay abundant, they are not obnoxious, polishing these returning icons and expanding on them as characters, even if only a little for a certain few key players. The motivations behind creating this film are obviously cynical, but the storytelling decisions don’t find themselves being nearly cynical enough to rekindle your hatred for the corporate content enterprise; if it’s an instant dopamine rush, it’s certainly not one that was injected lazily.
That’s not to say there aren’t forced points. They are brief and they are scarce, but they weaken the pure-of-heart, celebratory remembrance created by earlier scenes, turning it into cheaply produced nostalgia bait (a particular quip worthy of an eye-roll comes from Willem Dafoe in a truly awkward, entirely contrived manner), reminding you of the hellish cinematic era we live in; one of instant gratification through image recognizability, the norms of which had been so expertly dodged by the film up until that point.
For once, the expense of a film worth an unfathomable $200 million actually shows while watching; with star power alone (pulling in valuable favourites like Dafoe, Foxx, and Tomei as well as fresh stars like Holland, Zendaya and Revolori), it seems like Marvel has outdone themselves with their efficiency of constructing a corporate landscape, and in conjunction with CGI present in the frame throughout possibly 95% of the movie, it’s clear that this particular endeavor was an abominably costly one. How horrifying.
Jon Watts’ direction is surprisingly strong given his historic mediocrity (at least in relation to the MCU), however this improvement could very easily be due to the infinite number of studio collaborators present on any Hollywood project, such as new cinematographer Mauro Fiore, or the experienced actors he’s working with (namely Dafoe). For a studio product designed to be as safe and accessible as possible, it features a surprising amount of slick oners and conscious lighting decisions; ones that feel sorely lacking in this trilogy’s previous bland affairs, as well as the vast majority of Disney’s 21st century live-action repertoire. However, it’s doubtful that this is some indication that Disney has begun to care about filmmaking and more likely an incidental contribution from one of the thousands who worked on the film.
Still, those positive cinematic qualities are there (even if they taper off as the film’s action becomes more and more reliant on plastic assets rather than physical production design), and are noticed as early as the opening swing. Watts captures the claustrophobia of an entire population with its eyes on you excellently with dynamic camera movement and overhead shots to communicate distance between the world-wide audience and the lone subject. Here, he establishes the film’s light-hearted tone excellently, a tone that is well-chosen for the caperish adventure story he has his hands on.
Strangely, part of the film’s opening functions as a criticism of overbearing governments’ repression of freedoms under the guise of ‘cracking down on criminality’. It irks me that this minor exploration feels libertarian, but I would argue it leans over to the Marxist more so than the right-wing (which is very clearly contradictory given Marvel’s imperialist past and hatred of socialism), making it feel more conscious of the truly unjust effects of authoritarianism (especially given Peter Parker’s working class upbringing). Watts treats these scenes with the same liveliness, seemingly to ensure the average audience member won’t find this political messaging too trying.
A particularly strong element of the film is its rousing score, led by the excellent Michael Giacchino. Giacchino, who also composed the previous two features in the MCU Spider-Man trilogy (as well as modern classics like The Incredibles, Ratatouille, and Jojo Rabbit), uses an array of different instrumentation methods at his disposal to communicate the proper emotion intended by the scene; from drums and electric guitars to orchestras and choirs, his adeptness at shifting the film’s musical identity without missing a beat is astonishing. Brilliantly, his music can smoothly transition from electrifying during sequences of daring action to operatically grand at the most emotionally devastating moments, making for a score that is easily his best within the MCU (and possibly the best score that the MCU has to offer, period).
Giacchino also makes an effort to reuse motifs used for characters in previous works, such as the point just before Spider-Man calls out for Doctor Strange’s help; a dreamlike sitar is heard without a mention of Strange’s name, and those in the audience who pay attention to musical cues will recognize it’s the very same theme used in Strange’s standalone feature (which Giacchino also composed). For a more comical musical callback, the awful dubstep famously used in The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is directly recreated during periods focused on Electro, complete with a full musical credit for Hans Zimmer and Pharrell Williams for having originally written it. As easy as this fan service is, it’s not as if it isn’t satisfying.
If comedy is what you look for when arriving at the theatre, Marvel’s stylings will likely not disappoint. The humour can be both dangerously quip-heavy and cringeworthy, as well as creative and humorous (there are a couple examples of family sitcom levels of domestic misunderstanding, as well as prolonged character interactions that conjure laughter only because of their nonchalance in the midst of great peril); interestingly, when the jokes are brought outside the context of the MCU, they seem to become almost unilaterally funnier, as though Marvel is unintentionally proving greater comedic potential among the thespian drollery of the Raimi trilogy, and the mockable incompetence of the Amazing duology (perhaps not quite so unintentionally seeing as it clearly recognizes the latter; Foxx having fallen into a vat of electric eels is a recurring source of quip fodder).
Every performance is at least decent throughout, but Alfred Molina and Willem Dafoe conquer everyone in how they display their acting prowess, as should be expected. Molina’s brooding monologues inspirit the soul, the emotionality his character represents restored in less than full form, but still very much restored, meanwhile Dafoe’s facial contortions and instant shift in voice tonality stay intimidating, and his strength as an eccentric character actor resides comfortably within the flavourless CG environment. Both of them are honoured by maintaining the cheesy camp their characters are known for, their exciting histrionic performances standing out all the more in a blander context.
Alongside these titans of theatricality, Holland turns in a performance steeped in a surprising amount of realism, accenting upbeat, comedic interplay with reflective character moments. There are some crushing developments in his story this time, and fortunately, at a point where he must demonstrate some deeply emotional acting, Holland pulls it off with flying colours (that is, until Jon Favreau so rudely interrupts with his baby-faced pouting). Holland’s Spider-Man undergoes the most emotional hardship in this latest as a result of the cosmic stakes at play, and is challenged to display a galactic level of emotional maturity to overcome it. Those who arrive hoping for genuinely sombre and affecting drama among the pop exploits will find their desire satisfied, well beyond the general expectations of mainstream superhero cinema.
Unlike the many other boardroom-devised, audience-tested, investor-approved, psychologically exploitative pieces of merchandise produced in the past year, Spider-Man resurrects its characters with respect; feeding them to the infinitely consuming content leviathan, but making sure it doesn’t chew away too much; abandoning them at a new home, but making sure that home is caring. It’s a carousel ride intricately designed to maximize the number of people who drop something in the till, but that maximization involves making the ride as fun as possible. I don’t think anyone could be blamed for hopping on.
