[Editor’s note: The following contains spoilers for Spider-Man: No Way Home.]
All the way back in February, I wrote a piece titled “Let Spider-Man Star In His Own Movies,” which wasn’t just about how Tom Holland’s tenure as Peter Parker in the MCU always seemed to be tied too tightly to his co-stars, be it Robert Downey Jr.‘s Iron Man, Benedict Cumberbatch‘s Dr. Strange, or half-a-dozen villains from a different Spider-Man’s movie. It was also about the ways in which the MCU stripped away most of the classic core tenets that have made Spider-Man Spider-Man since 1962; his blue-collar struggles replaced with a billionaire’s tech-y toys, his nerdiness with naivety, his native New York City with European trips and outer space adventures. For as dang charming as Holland is in the role and as fun as his appearances so often are, there’s just something off about his Peter Parker; the personal nature of your “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man” is hard to buy when the character’s sense of loss, heroism, and self-accountability is tied not to a tragedy of his own, but the loss of a billionaire who died saving the entire galaxy. However! Jon Watts‘ latest Spidey story, Spider-Man: No Way Home, is an ambitious, unruly beast, but its genuinely moving ending is more of a beginning, one that points toward a bright future for Tom Holland’s Spider-Man.
The basic gist is that every single person across the entire Multiverse has forgotten who Peter Parker is. The spell from Doctor Strange that kicks off the movie, ripping open reality and summoning the likes of Willem Dafoe’s Green Goblin and Alfred Molina’s Doctor Octopus, has grown untenable by No Way Home‘s climax, with an unthinkable amount of Spidey villains from across the cosmos threatening to break into the MCU, all with one thing in common: They know Peter Parker is Spider-Man. So, to stop the onslaught, Peter asks Strange to alter the spell, making everyone—including the love of his life, MJ (Zendaya), and best friend, Ned (Jacob Batalon)—forget who he is. It’s self-sacrifice-via-wizard-magic on a grand scale. Strange alters the spell. The very concept of “Peter Parker” is obliterated from the minds of everyone he’s ever loved.
The movie leaves Peter in a kind of reverse It’s a Wonderful Life situation, as he makes the decision that his friends and family might be safer without Spider-Man in their lives. It’s a realization earned the hard way, as his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) is killed earlier in the film by the Green Goblin. (But not before delivering the required “with great power there must also come great responsibility” line guaranteed to level up any Spider-Man.) Peter’s at rock bottom, but it’s a recognizable rock bottom; finally, this character is rooted in something other than how another character reacts to him. He rents an absolute trash-heap of a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan—his landlord probably isn’t Mr. Ditkovich from Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man movies, but it’s probably someone a lot like Mr. Ditkovich—because one of Spider-Man’s most consistent archenemies is rent. He handcrafts his own costume, too. Gone are the high-tech nano-bots and insta-kills of a former weapons manufacturer; we see Peter swinging through New York City at Christmas time (hello, Hawkeye!) wearing a sparkly, endearingly janky hand-sewn piece of blue-and-red spandex.
What the ending makes clear is that Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home, and No Way Home were telling the real origin story of Tom Holland’s Spider-Man. Along with his various cameos and crossovers, the MCU has been bringing a kid from Queens to the highest heights imaginable; he was an Avenger, mentored by a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, a key part of saving the entire universe. To take all that away so suddenly brings Holland’s Spider-Man to the beginning. It justifies Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield showing up in No Way Home for reasons more than a cheap pop. They underscore one of the saddest facts about Marvel’s cheeriest hero, that Spider-Man is driven by loss, whether it’s a girlfriend they couldn’t save, an uncle who died in their arms, or, uh, everyone.
At this moment, things seem chill enough between Sony and Disney for more Spider-Man movies down the road, but who knows? The only thing that’s sure is Holland’s Peter Parker is at his lowest point. But that’s why you surround Spider-Man with New York City. The only way to swing is up.
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