Spider-Man: Brand New Day

Spider-Man has been my favourite superhero for as long as I can remember, although I’m beginning to think it has less to do with the web-slinging and more to do with Peter Parker’s remarkable ability to make his own life as difficult as humanly possible. He is chronically self-sacrificing, fiercely protective and seemingly convinced that carrying everything alone is preferable to letting somebody else get hurt. Perhaps unfortunately, that has always made him incredibly relatable to me. This latest instalment understands that side of Peter better than most, stripping back the superhero spectacle to explore the loneliness, heartbreak and grief sitting underneath the mask.

It is also exactly the kind of film Marvel has desperately needed. The studio’s recent output has, at times, struggled to recapture the emotional investment that made its earlier films feel like events rather than obligations. Spider-Man, however, comes swinging in with something that feels alive again. There are the expected fights, powers and larger-than-life comic-book moments, but the film’s real strength lies in how much attention it gives to the people possessing those powers, particularly Peter and Jean Grey.

Their stories intersect through a shared experience of being different in ways the people around them cannot fully understand. Jean’s powers make her an object of suspicion and fear, and the film uses this to explore the stereotypes placed upon those whose differences are perceived as threatening. There is an obvious superhero exaggeration at play, since most of us aren’t walking around harbouring mutant abilities, but the sentiment underneath it is strikingly human. Being different does not make someone dangerous, nor should that difference be allowed to define the entirety of who they are.

Sadie Sink is particularly impressive as Jean, balancing vulnerability with an underlying volatility that makes the character feel powerful without reducing her to her powers. Her scenes with Peter give the film some of its strongest emotional material, with both characters recognising something familiar in each other: the exhaustion of feeling isolated by a part of themselves they cannot simply switch off.

Peter’s own transformation takes this idea in a much more physical direction. As his mutations develop alongside his hurt and heartbreak, we see a Spider-Man who is considerably stronger and more dangerous than the one we are accustomed to. For a long-time Marvel fan, watching Peter suddenly kick considerably more ass is, admittedly, extremely satisfying. But it works because the increased strength isn't just there to make the action sequences cooler. His changing abilities mirror a Peter who is finally being forced to confront everything he has spent so long carrying quietly.

And Peter Parker has carried a lot. Loss has become almost inseparable from Spider-Man across his many iterations, but here it does not merely function as motivation for the next fight. The film allows grief to actually alter him. He is hurt, angry and lonely, yet he continues getting back up – an idea that has always been fundamental to what makes Spider-Man such an enduring character.

That culminates beautifully when Peter is pushed towards the familiar question of whether he is Peter Parker or Spider-Man. His response – “I’m both” – is simple, but within a film so concerned with identity, otherness and the pieces of ourselves we struggle to reconcile, it lands with surprising force. Peter does not have to amputate one part of himself to accept the other. Neither does Jean. The very things that make these characters different are part of them, but they do not have to become their definitions.

Thankfully, the film is not relentlessly miserable. The decision to bring the Punisher into Peter’s orbit as a somewhat irritating accomplice provides some of its funniest moments. Their dynamic feels surprisingly natural, particularly because the comedy grows out of their clashing personalities rather than feeling like it was simply inserted because a Marvel film is due another joke. At a time when some of the franchise’s character pairings and humour have begun to feel increasingly manufactured, their interactions are genuinely refreshing.

Ultimately, this is one of the strongest explorations of Peter Parker we have seen on screen. It remembers that the appeal of Spider-Man has never simply been that he can climb walls or swing between skyscrapers. Peter is compelling because beneath all of that, he is painfully human: somebody who loses people, shuts others out, makes mistakes, and continues to help everyone around him, even when he is barely holding himself together.

Perhaps that is why I have loved Spider-Man for as long as I can remember. There is something comforting about a superhero whose greatest strength is not really his ability to lift something impossibly heavy, but his insistence on getting back up when life gives him every reason not to.

Marvel may have been struggling to find its footing lately, but if this is the future of Spider-Man, consider me firmly back on board.