Spider-Man: Brand New Day

Spider-Man has always been Marvel’s ace in the pack. Since his introduction in 1962, his comics have easily outsold rivals, and he has graduated to become the most consistently popular hero in the Marvel Cinematic Universe; his last entry, No Way Home, earned just shy of $2 billion at the global box office, even in the pandemic. We can’t get enough of Ol’ Webhead, and for very obvious reasons: in a multiverse of wild and wacky superheroes and supervillains, Peter Parker is just a regular working-class kid from Queens, with great powers thrust upon him, trying his best.

This fourth solo entry, directed by Shang-Chi’s Destin Daniel Cretton (series regular director Jon Watts previously stepped aside), tries hard not to forget that appeal. He’s not in high school any more, but Peter is still an ordinary New Yorker, diligently going to work every day. The opening 20 minutes of Brand New Day are the strongest of the film and among the best bit of mainstream superhero filmmaking in a long while: an extended montage showing our hero simply plugging away at what one character describes as “small potato stuff”.

Across multiple movies, guest appearances and Avengers team-ups it’s been vanishingly rare to see Spider-Man do the “friendly neighbourhood” part, and it is a genuine treat to see him beating up B-list baddies from his historic rogue’s gallery. This feels like the most comics-faithful entry so far, tactile and ground-level, while the addition of Jon Bernthal’s Frank Castle/Punisher as Peter’s sometime frenemy cements the New York-iness of it all, their hotheaded interactions bringing some lovely “I’m walking here!” energy to proceedings.

But Peter is lonely. As flashbacks from within the MCU logo remind us — the first time, perhaps, that a studio logo has been employed for “Previously on…” duties — the end of No Way Home saw Doctor Strange cast a spell that left everyone in the world with a case of amnesia as to who, exactly, was behind the mask. That’s left Peter feeling a serious case of heartache for his lost love MJ (Zendaya) and best bud/guy in the chair Ned (Jacob Batalon). The scenes between these three are among the most affecting of the film, with Zendaya finding the perfect pitch of poignancy and self-determination; while Batalon reminds us that Peter and Ned are just, at the heart of it, enormous nerds (shout out to a lovely Fellowship Of The Ring reference, the franchise crossover we never knew we wanted).

Tom Holland is brilliant in these moments. He has already more than proven that he can play all the shades of Peter — goofy, awkward, wise-cracking, emotional, ultimately decent — but here the glibness that characterised and sometimes undermined the series, and the MCU at large, is toned down. This is a less puppyish Peter, one battle-hardened and bruised by grief and solitude. Consequently, a new wrinkle is added; like the first Sam Raimi Spider-Man, it leans into the web-as-bodily-fluid, powers-as-puberty analogy. Think of it as an arachnid bar mitzvah: Peter is becoming a man. While the Tobey Maguire era executed the concept a little more successfully, it’s a nice enough idea. But it leads to the film’s first stumble, sending Peter searching for advice from Mark Ruffalo’s Bruce Banner, another Avenger who has had bodily changes.

All four Spider-Man films have had an assist from a top-level Avenger, and this one is no different — but you slightly wonder why. At this point, he is more famous than all of them, and the addition of the Hulk only slows things down, smashing not only buildings but also the narrative pace (which, for a two-and-a-half-hour film, counts for a lot). Even in a Spidey entry set entirely within the confines of the Five Boroughs, there are still major concessions being made to the wider universe. Which is a shame, because the mysterious nominal villain is spooky and well-played; to say who or what it is, exactly, would be giving too much away, but the effect is freaky and psychologically horrifying. And there are nice turns from Severance’s Tramell Tillman (who, as Hollywood has correctly surmised, elevates everything he is in) and Stranger Things’ Sadie Sink.

If the back half of the film feels a little sluggish, Cretton — who made his name with intimate dramas about young people like Short Term 12 — never fully loses focus of the guy behind the mask. Spider-Man is always at his best doing the friendly neighbourhood stuff, and when this film remembers that, we’re reminded why he’s still Marvel’s ace in the pack.