When a scene fires on all cylinders like this one undeniably does, it can be tough to narrow down and target just one specific element that makes it all sing. Is it the voiceovers that turn the subtext into text, allowing us to experience Miles’ inner thoughts as he reflects on everything his various mentors — his father, his uncle, Peter B., and many others — have instilled in him? Is it the rapid-fire montage throwing one memorable image at us after another, condensing what could’ve been a much longer and less well-paced sequence into a perfectly streamlined one? Or is it the sense of genuine comic-book storytelling invading every frame, culminating in the moment when Miles is plunging through the air and the shot suddenly turns into a series of comic book panels straight out of a classic splash page?
There’s a certain sense of magic that happens when every aspect of filmmaking comes together in perfect unity to achieve the same goal — especially in an action movie. And if action is about character and story intersecting in a way that only visual storytelling can allow, then I can’t think of a more fitting example that of Miles coming into his own as Spider-Man while leaping and swinging his way through the streets of New York City. No, there aren’t any prototypical villains in this scene beyond Miles’ insecurities, no obstacles in his path other than his emotional hang-ups, and nothing here that really “advances the plot,” as too many young moviegoers love to obsess about.
But it’s arguably the high peak of either “Spider-Verse” movie to this point and the purest possible expression of character through action. All it took was a leap of faith.
