Given the film’s multiversal concept, their tales are variations on a theme that’s now culturally ingrained — a story perfected by Sam Raimi fourteen and sixteen years ago with the first two In contrast to our heroes’ collective mourning, however, the villain Wilson Fisk (Liev Schreiber) lacks the same mechanics and support system to deal with loss.
This also happens to be the very impetus for his dimension-hopping scheme.
As the Spider-folk commiserate, telling Miles they’re probably “the only ones who do understand,” the emotional heft feels earned.
We’ve seen flashes of the lives they’ve lived, and we’ve likely seen a full version of this story on screen at least once.
When Miles first deals with getting his powers, his invasive, paranoid thoughts begin to manifest as comic book paneling.
As he moves through physical space, the narration boxes shift into the background — another great use of 3D — and they’re replaced by new ones that are equally impactful: Transposing these elements to film ends up uniquely transformative.
Motion allows the narrations to forego a traditional left-to-right, the western orientation of the page.
We don’t need to see the boxes in a familiar pattern, since we track the order in which they first appear and read them accordingly. Another example of this effect is Miles moving through his school hallway after an embarrassing encounter with Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld).
Occasionally, the lines aren’t used to punctuate movement at all.
The introduction on Peni Parker (Kimiko Glenn), for instance, echoes the stylizations of Japanese anime and manga, as if light itself is being bent around her: Peni’s movements, along with those of Spider-Ham’s (John Mulaney), are emblematic of the exaggerated styles to which they pay homage.