Why "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse" Was the Best Animated Film of 2018
2018 was a year of transformation for me. It was a year in which, in the aftermath of graduating from university, I wanted to delve into starting conversations about things that I was passionate about. To host discussions and analyses about the “why”s and “how'“s of stories capturing us in the ways that they do. While Derek Ex Machina became a project that I enjoyed contributing to - while the conversations that I’ve initiated here have played a role in honing my writing and critiquing capabilities, I’ve also grown a lack of drive and motivation at times to make an attempt to have my voice heard.
In a sea of countless critics that are doubtlessly more intelligent and experienced than I, I’ve encountered discouragement and hesitation in the last few months of this year (as can be observed by my consistently inconsistent update schedule). In the last few weeks of this month, however, something changed. As the year came to a close and I started playing catch-up on a lot of films and games that I missed out on, I perhaps unconsciously was searching for a piece of media that reminded me of my passion for storytelling and creativity. Amidst this search, there was one film that managed to pull me out of my slump; a film that captured my imagination in such a way that I hadn’t encountered in so long - a film that reminded me of why I started this blog in the first place. That film was Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.
I first encountered Spider-Verse earlier this year when seeing teaser trailers for it as far back as Spring of this year. A film entirely animated as if it were a moving comic book was a concept that was simultaneously captivating and mind-boggling as to how such an art-style has never been attempted in a large-scale film before. I was instantly sold on Spider-Verse merely on aesthetics alone - as I’m sure was the case for many others -, but in tandem with that excitement on the film’s awe-inspiring art style was concern for the film’s actual quality.
Sony Animation, to put it kindly, doesn’t have a reputation of creating meaningful and creative animated pictures that can be enjoyed and kids and adults alike. Moreover, Sony’s prior attempts at Spider-Man films throughout the last two decades (excluding Homecoming, as that was in the hands of Marvel Studios) have felt lacking either through clumsy screenplays and performances or through an unequal focus of heartfelt drama and humor - a balance that perhaps is the most defining characteristic the differentiates Spider-Man from any other superhero. Despite Sony’s shotty history with the Spider-Man license, there seemed to be nothing but positivity and excitement in conversations about Spider-Verse. Having surrounded myself this year with various diehard comic book enthusiasts, the buzz around Spider-Verse was unlike that of any other superhero film that I can recall.
These conversations kept me enthusiastic about seeing Spider-Verse throughout the year, in what ended up feeling like an agonizing wait. But at last, I was finally able to sit down and watch the film at year’s end. And as you can deduce from the title of this piece, what followed was an experience that captured me unlike any other film this year.
To say that Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is the best animated film of 2018 isn’t to say that other animated films of this year were of poor quality. However, it is most definitely to say that Spider-Verse is the best of its genre because of its sheer importance. We’re unfortunately in an era of western animation where many films gravitate towards specific art styles that do not deviate very far from one another. Whether you watch Coco, The Incredibles 2, or Finding Dory, you’re going to observe that Pixar uses incredibly similar art styles in their films, to the point where they can feel aesthetically “samey”, for lack of a better term. My negative feelings towards them aside, Illumination struggles with this as well, as many of their film’s art styles bleed into each other. There are certainly outliers to this, such as the brilliant Laika and other smaller animation studios in the west - all of which show commitments to create visually distinct films -, but for the larger animation studios and their more “marketable” projects, we rarely ever see visual distinction being a priority. The unfortunate truth is that as many animation studios have migrated to CG animation, so too have they migrated to sticking to certain art styles that, while not unpleasing to look at, make for films that lack discernible visual identities.
What makes Spider-Verse so important of an animated film is that it proves to other animation studios, big and small, that a film with a different art style can both be success with critics and audiences and be a great film that isn’t entirely defined by its unique art style. If Spider-Verse was an aesthetically gorgeous film that lacked a good screenplay and performances, audiences would certainly praise its visuals, the film would make good money from that alone, and Sony Animation could walk away happy with that. But since Sony Animation went a step beyond and made a film that had smart, funny writing with loads of heart, understanding, and respect of the source material, Sony Animation ended up with a film that serves as a pillar for what all animation should strive for.
Into the Spider-Verse uses its existence as an animated film to its benefit. Every frame of animation delivers so much personality and atmosphere, creating an immersive world and story - one that is infectiously captivating in a way that no other superhero film has replicated.
While I’ve been praising this film’s visuals, let’s briefly take a step back and examine what it is that makes this film’s visuals look so appealing. As stated earlier, Spider-Verse is stylized as a comic book in motion. While most character designs in this film are standard fare for Sony Animation, the ways in which these characters are presented is what makes every character interesting to look at, especially in action sequences. Given that this is Spider-Man, we’re inherently going to be treated to various scenes involving running, swinging, and the incredibly fast movement from Miles Morales, Peter Parker, and many other characters.
This quick speed of the film makes for enticing scenes in which characters are blazing past the colorful backdrop of a New York City cloaked in a night sky and city lights. Whether a character is falling to the ground, making a leap of faith, climbing on walls, or even swinging between trees - the swiftness of the animation is accompanied by a level of expression that gives the film and its character so much personality.
There are other ways in which the film uses its aesthetic to enhance its storytelling, with a particular favorite of mine being the occasional use of panels for dialogue and onomatopoeia. Moreover, this film graciously understands when dialogue is and isn’t necessary to enhance the storytelling on display. When Miles soars past the vistas of New York City or the chaotic aftermath of the landscapes present in the film’s third act - the filmmakers are aware when aesthetics alone are doing enough at conveying what’s going on and what we as an audience should feel.
While we’ve seen many of Marvel Studios’ films certainly succeed at highlighting character personalities amidst action sequences, the use of animation allows for characters’ personalities to bounce off of the screen. Some of the greatest examples of this is when Miles encounters alternate versions of Spider-Man, all of which have different art styles that are unique to their character. A 1930s detective version of Spider-Man has a black-and-white color scheme with heavy borders, whereas a more Japanese-styled version of Spider-Man is a young girl and a mech that both have a lighter color palette and an anime-inspired style to them. With these changes in art style come different mannerisms and visual gags that make these characters add spectacle and humor just as much as they add complexity and importance to the film’s narrative.
Whether it’s with these alternate versions of Spider-Man, with the film’s varied vistas, or with interactions between any of the characters in the film, there’s always something worth looking at in Spider-Verse. Seeing the 1930s black-and-white Spider-Man look at a Rubik’s Cube in bewilderment while in the background of a scene or seeing the iconic and stylish shot of Miles Morales jump off a building towards the streets after acquiring his own suit - the film constantly delivers vividly detailed visuals that give the film an alluring charm that is unparalleled in the superhero genre. This film is littered with cute and clever details that make each scene, whether comedic or serious, feel enticing and exciting.
Accompanying this spectacular visual splendor is a screenplay that has phenomenal pacing and timing. Miles, in particular, showcases the strength of the screenplay. Miles went from a character that I had no familiarity with to one that I found entirely relatable. He’s an ambitious, if insecure teenager that often finds himself over his head. More than anything, though, Miles is the recipient of incredible comedic timing, with a personal favorite scene involving Miles climbing up various flights of stairs, looking over a ledge to attempt to train his superpowers, followed by promptly going down the same flight of stairs.
What this screenplay accomplishes most is its ability to keep the plot feeling important, yet humorous and engaging. Superhero films have a tendency to get into the formula of having comedic and more mundane and quieter, nuanced moments to build characters and having the action sequences being separate from those character-building moments. Spider-Verse thankfully foregoes this through constantly keeping scenes interesting through strong visuals and characters constantly interacting with one another in believable, interesting ways without ever getting irritating.
Spider-Verse’s presentation of its story, world, and characters makes it an unforgettable experience. Of course, it manages to stumble a bit with its presentation. The most notable example (and the one most should be familiar with at this point) is the film’s mismanagement of its score. While the soundtrack to the film is full of energy and personality, there are instances where the music doesn’t match the tone of what’s going on in the film. Additionally, there’s an odd effect in the way the film makes objects appear out of focus. When we’re not supposed to be looking at something on frame, instead of appearing as blurry, it will appear as having multiple images of itself laid onto each other, not dissimilar to that of looking at a 3D projection without wearing 3D glasses. It’s an odd stylistic choice - one of the only examples I noticed that didn’t add anything to the film’s visual spectacle and left me a bit distracted.
But these slight missteps, at their worst, caused slight distractions for a few seconds until the film’s brisk pace moved onto something else to pay attention to. Spider-Verse simply knows how to manage its audience’s attention, and it truthfully never lets that attention free until after the post-credits scene.
I left the theater in amazement. Not only had I seen the best animated film of the year, but I had also seen the best superhero film in the last decade. While I’ve certainly liked many of Marvel Studios’ outings the last few years, I found myself struggling to think of a superhero film that was as brilliantly detail-oriented as Spider-Verse. More than anything, Spider-Verse convinced me that, while the film was concerned with telling a great story in its own right, it was also ultimately concerned with proving the storytelling and worldbuliding capability that animation has over live-action. Spider-Verse is embodied proof to audiences and western animation studios alike that unique, stylish animation is capable of telling stories with a level of detail and pizzazz that can’t be replicated in live-action films.
What makes Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse so special to me is that a begets its audience to rethink what animation is capable of. This film could have easily adopted a live-action counterpart, or used a more traditional CG art style - but it didn’t. Why was this? Why, in this instance, did Sony choose to take a riskier and more stylistic approach when a safer, more often-used presentation would have been easier (and likely more profitable)? The answer to that…is passion.
From beginning to end, Spider-Verse oozes passion. Each frame of each sequence has details and inclusions that feel unnecessary in the best way. As someone that loves details that build the world and its characters under any circumstances, I was in constant admiration of this film and the people that worked on it. This film’s level of detail wasn’t the result of following industry trends and conforming to audience expectations - it was done in spite of them. It was done because the filmmakers’ passion for the story they were telling - and I could feel that passion throughout the film’s run time.
And it’s that fearless, unapologetic display of passion by Spider-Verse’s filmmakers that reminded me of why I write, of why I want to write stories. Creating stories and worlds that audiences can get immersed in, leaving details that eagle-eyed viewers will only be able to notice after multiple viewings - all of that is done because you love doing it. Spider-Verse reminded me of that - that the desire and passion behind creation can lead to experiences that enrich the lives of everyone that engages with that experience. The experience of watching Spider-Verse is one that I won’t be forgetting. Rather, I’ll be remembering it fondly, constantly thinking about details, talking about the film with others, having my eyes widen when I hear about a smart detail that went over my head when I watched the film.
More than anything, Spider-Verse has reignited my passion for writing and creativity. It reminded me of why I started this blog in the first place - not to follow trends or do what people to expect, but rather, to celebrate and examine the stories that enrich our lives. So while the filmmakers may thank their audience for supporting their film, Spider-Verse is ultimately a reminder that creators should also be thanked for the passion and inspiration that they throw out into the world.
To all the cast and crew members that made Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse come out the spectacular way that it did: Thank you. Thank you for capturing and inspiring creativity for me and the countless others that will see this film. It will not go unappreciated.
Final Grade: A
Thank you so much for reading! What did you think of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse? As always, feel free to join the conversation and let me know what you think!
