Across the Spider-Verse: A Dazzling, Flawed Swing
Director: Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson | Industry: Hollywood/Animation
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is the kind of sequel that refuses to sit still. It stretches the first film's imagination outward — more universes, more versions of what it means to wear the mask, and a visual language that keeps inventing itself mid-flight.
It doesn't always land cleanly. Yet even when the plot feels overloaded, the movie's emotional center — a young Miles Morales trying to balance responsibility and identity — keeps it tethered. If you loved the first film's heart and style, this one will feel like both a party and an argument.
The Setup
Miles Morales (voice: Shameik Moore) is thriving in his life as Brooklyn's Spider-Man but struggling to reconcile his family obligations with the lure of heroism. When he encounters the expansive Spider-Society — led in part by Miguel O'Hara/Spider-Man 2099 (voice: Oscar Isaac) — Miles is pulled into a conflict that tests loyalties and moral lines. Gwen Stacy (voice: Hailee Steinfeld) returns as a complicated friend/ally whose choices have consequences for both of them, and Miles must decide what kind of hero he will be while the multiverse itself threatens to punish deviations from a rigid set of rules.
Cast & Performances
The voice cast gives this film much of its emotional weight. Shameik Moore continues to sell Miles' awkward earnestness and quiet bravery; his Miles feels both youthful and stubborn. Hailee Steinfeld's Gwen is a charged counterpoint — wounded and principled in ways that complicate Miles' choices. Oscar Isaac brings a cool menace to Miguel O'Hara: part paternal authority, part authoritarian enforcer. Even smaller performances land because the actors commit to tonal specificity rather than broad cartoonishness.
Direction & Tone
Directors Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson orchestrate a dizzying parade of styles and tempos. The film alternates between intimate character moments and large-scale sequences that feel almost experimental in their editing and frame composition. That ambition works most of the time, but pacing stumbles when the movie piles new concepts, characters, and rules on top of one another without letting any single thread breathe long enough.
Skip this section if you haven't watched the film yet! Here are 4–5 pivotal moments that defined the movie for us:
Miles is introduced to the Spider-Society's headquarters: a dazzling, bureaucratic hub for spider-heroes from across the multiverse. The sequence underscores the film's main reveal — there is a canon that Spider-Man variations are expected to follow — and it frames Miguel O'Hara as an almost clinical guardian of that order. The scene works because it juxtaposes wonder with cold regulation; we feel Miles' excitement and his growing unease simultaneously. Visually it's an overload in the best way, but narratively it also forces the film to explain a lot of its rules very quickly.
A quieter, emotional scene finds Miles and Gwen arguing about choices they made on different paths. Gwen's pain is palpable: she has been hardened by loss, and Miles' idealism clashes with her survival-first instincts. This is where the film stakes its emotional claim — both characters make defensible, human decisions, and the argument reframes Miles' moral dilemma as personal rather than purely theoretical. It's a strong moment because the animators let faces and body language do the talking when the script could have over-explained.
One of the film's largest set pieces is a kinetic chase that tears through several stylistic universes. Here the filmmakers play with frame rates, textures, and color palettes, moving from comic-book halftones to slick CGI realism in seconds. The choreography is inventive—each 'universe' imposes different physics and rules—and it becomes a visual showcase for what animation can do. However, the scene can feel noisy at times: it's exhilarating but occasionally hard to parse in terms of narrative stakes.
Near the end, Miles makes a decision that puts him at odds with the Spider-Society's strict enforcement of 'canon' and directly leads into the film's cliffhanger ending. The choice feels rooted and earned — it flows from everything we've learned about Miles' loyalties and fears — but the payoff is deliberately frustrating: the movie stops on the consequences and punts resolution to the next installment. The scene succeeds emotionally while also exposing the film's appetite for serialized storytelling at the expense of self-contained closure.
Visuals & Sound
As an animated feature, Across treats cinematography like a living thing. Frames are composed with an eye for comic-book layouts, and the film constantly changes visual grammar: watercolor washes, hard-edged cel shading, graffiti textures, and stop-motion flourishes all appear. Lighting choices highlight emotional beats — warm tones for intimate scenes, neon and high-contrast palettes for multiversal set pieces. The result is the most visually adventurous mainstream animated film in years; on a single level it's dazzling, though the relentless novelty sometimes competes with clarity.
Daniel Pemberton's score (and the soundtrack choices) continue to mix contemporary hip-hop energy with cinematic urgency. Tracks are used to amplify Miles' emotional beats rather than simply backdrop the action, and the sonic palette complements the movie's tonal shifts. There are moments where the music lifts a scene into pure catharsis, and the film's eclectic song choices help give each universe its own sonic fingerprint.
Final Verdict
- Relentlessly inventive animation and visual experimentation.
- Strong emotional core centered on Miles Morales and his relationships.
- Bold expansion of the Spider-Verse ideas and stakes.
- Overstuffed with characters and concepts; pacing suffers.
- Ends on a frustrating cliffhanger that delays payoff.
- Occasional visual overload makes some action hard to follow.
Across the Spider-Verse feels like a conversation and an argument — a film that wants to dazzle you and challenge you at the same time. Its animation work and emotional scenes are frequently thrilling, and Shameik Moore's Miles is compelling company. Yet the movie's appetite for expansion means it sometimes shortchanges clarity and closure. It's an exhilarating, sometimes messy middle chapter: thrilling in the moment, and clearly building toward a sequel that will have to work hard to complete its promises.
Frequently Asked Questions
Do I need to watch Into the Spider-Verse first?
Yes — the first film provides vital emotional context for Miles and Gwen, and helps the sequel's stakes land more convincingly.
Is this movie a complete story on its own?
Not entirely. Across is explicitly a middle chapter that expands the mythology and ends on a cliffhanger, setting up the next installment.
Is the animation different from the first film?
It keeps the original's spirit but pushes much further stylistically, experimenting with multiple visual languages and textures for different universes.