Warning: Full spoilers follow for Spider-Man: No Way Home.
With Spider-Man: No Way Home’s big box-office debut, it’s clear that Spidey mania is here to stay. Spider-Man 4 is in early development, and the incredible ticket sales and strong critical praise for No Way Home means that not only Marvel and Sony but also every other studio will be looking at how the film accomplished this feat and trying their best to replicate it.
However, No Way Home’s success is at least partially attributable to it already being part of an established template that has become the most dominant force in blockbuster filmmaking within the past five years: the so-called “legacy sequel,” which gives audiences a concentrated dose of fanservice and nostalgia while still technically moving the story forward. Despite legacy sequels as a trend having been lambasted by many (and for good reason!), Spider-Man: No Way Home might be the most successful film from a quality standpoint to come out of this entire cycle.
How did they do it? Strap in, Spider-Fans. It’s time to find out.
One of the most frustrating aspects of talking about “legacy sequels” is that the term doesn’t even have an agreed upon definition. Discussions about this trend often lead to difficulty nailing down specific parameters for what makes a film qualify for the distinction, with many seemingly adhering to an approach once outlined by Charlie Cox’s Matt Murdock (who makes a cameo appearance in NWH) in the first season of Daredevil: “Often it’s like pornography. You just know when you see it.” (Of course, that line was a reference to U.S. Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s famous obscenity threshold test from 1964.)
Although some have pegged the trend’s starting point earlier, I think it’s safe to say that, if not their point of origin, legacy sequels as a template for Hollywood blockbusters were codified in 2015 with the releases of Jurassic World, Creed, and Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Identifying markers of the legacy sequel, as established by these films, appear to be:
Not every legacy sequel adheres to all six, but these are the most common signifiers of films that fit into this template. Such films include Pirates of the Caribbean 5, Terminator: Dark Fate, Halloween 2018, the modern Star Wars sequels, Space Jam: A New Legacy (ha), Ghostbusters: Afterlife, and even arguably the entire Fantastic Beasts franchise, which fits most of the parameters even if those operate as legacy prequels rather than sequels. So what precisely makes No Way Home stand out from the pack? That has everything to do with how its greatest advantage is the key way in which it deviates from the template.
Spider-Man: No Way Home uses a multiverse plot conceit to bring together three separate Spider-Man film franchises (comprising eight movies total for those Spider-Man: Counting at Home), yet the inciting incident is one that is remarkably familiar for anyone who’s spent any time with Spider-Man stories: Peter makes a mistake with the best of intentions, and then has to take responsibility so he can fix it. Everything about the movie that functions as a legacy sequel is built out of the story foundation of re-centering both this film and the wider MCU Spider-Man franchise around Peter Parker and his struggle to be a better person, to truly live up to his most famous mantra regarding power and responsibility.
The fact that No Way Home skips the legacy sequel convention of reusing the basic plot outline of a previous film means that all the other elements of its makeup can be supplemental instead of essential. There are numerous returning characters, callbacks, references and even payoffs for emotional threads from previous film franchises, but none of them are the principal focus of the story, instead serving as conduits through which the film relitigates the cinematic development of this particular Peter Parker. There is a surface level joy to seeing Alfred Molina reprise his iconic role as Doctor Octopus, or Willem Dafoe going unhinged as the Green Goblin one more time, and of course, Tom Holland sharing the screen with Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield. Yet while these are all undoubtedly fan-pleasing additions, No Way Home finds surprisingly adept ways to make them critical components of Peter’s internal journey.
The collection of multiverse villains presents Peter with a genuine moral quandary: Some of them are going to die if he allows Strange to send them back to their home universe, but if he doesn’t he’s putting the fabric of reality at risk. The fact that Peter doesn’t have a previously established relationship to the villains prior to the botched spell makes his choice (after some coaxing from Aunt May, who becomes Peter’s moral anchor for the first time in the series) to risk everything to save their lives even more potent; it’s a choice made of sincere moral conviction, to save strangers who would otherwise likely kill him without a second thought. It’s a choice that also makes things exponentially more difficult for him going forward, but what is that if not the Spider-Man way?
Near the end of the film’s second act, Ned accidentally pulls the Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield versions of Peter Parker into the movie using a stolen sling ring. Getting the three major cinematic Peter Parkers into the same room was the most anticipated element of the film for many, even if it was (allegedly) a secret until its release. Again, on the surface, these are crowd-pleasing extended cameos, but once again they actually do serve a narrative function as it relates to our protagonist: to present contrast with where Peter is in his own arc and facilitate it coming to its natural endpoint.
These are crowd-pleasing extended cameos, but they actually do serve a narrative function as it relates to our protagonist: to present contrast with where Peter is in his own arc.
The MCU’s Peter Parker is still a teenager, and now he’s confronted with alternate versions of himself in his late twenties (Andrew Garfield is 38 in real life, but his Peter is absolutely coded as much younger than that in the film) and mid-forties. Garfield’s Peter presents himself as jovial, but is still clearly struggling with the death of Gwen Stacy; he tells MCU Peter about how he lost sight of who he was supposed to be in the aftermath of that tragedy, becoming an angrier, more vengeful Spider-Man who “stopped pulling his punches,” something that MCU Peter is threatening to become after the loss of Aunt May. Maguire’s Peter has many regrets too, but he’s far enough removed from them to be calmer and more explicitly mentor-like in the same conversation, which plays like a therapy session for all of them. These two Peters trying to help a younger version of themselves through his most formative moment of loss grounds their appearance in tangible emotion that would only really be possible via the multiverse storyline.
The movie even provides emotional closure for Garfield’s Peter, whose own series was cut short after the box office disappointment of The Amazing Spider-Man 2. His saving MJ is primarily cathartic for Garfield’s Peter, who finally finds some redemption in saving the love of Peter Parker’s life, even if he is not the Peter Parker in question. Compare this to, say, The Rise of Skywalker where Rey, who has sought a sense of home, belonging and family for the entire Star Wars sequel trilogy, arrives at the Lars homestead at the end of the film. The scene is presenting that she’s found what she’s been looking for, but it only plays to the audience so they can recognize imagery from previous films. Rey has no connection to Tatooine, it was not a place of comfort or belonging for the characters she knew who did have a connection to it, and her declaration of being “Rey Skywalker” rings hollow because being a Skywalker was not what she was setting out to achieve. There is a clear distinction between scenes where catharsis can ring true for both character and audience and those where that same catharsis is simply designed for the audience only.
Most importantly, No Way Home reaffirms Peter Parker’s basic humanity even in the face of those who have hurt him the most. Seeing MCU Peter beat the Green Goblin to a pulp in the finale before lifting the glider to impale him is tense and horrifying in a way this version of Peter has never been. But who stops him from killing the Goblin? Maguire’s Peter, and who better to help bring MCU Peter from the brink but another version of himself who once struggled with the same dark impulse, who once hunted down and tried to murder Sandman after learning he was truly responsible for Uncle Ben’s death? Peter’s subsequent choices to sacrifice everyone’s knowledge of him to repair the damage to the multiverse, and then allow his friends to live on without knowing him, end the film on a melancholy note, but also with a sense of actual change for Peter. He is no longer a child, an apprentice of Tony Stark, or even an Avenger. He’s had to face himself, both by looking inward and outward, and from now on his path is truly his own.
There is absolutely a ceiling for this “type” of movie. It’s not great that this is the model for seemingly every blockbuster nowadays. But like the hero at its center, No Way Home finds a way to stand apart.
For more on the film, check out our No Way Home ending explained, dig in on how the Spider-Man post credits scene connects Venom to the MCU, see if you have answers to our biggest No Way Home WTF questions, and ponder how important What If...? has become thanks to that Doctor Strange 2 teaser.
Carlos Morales writes novels, articles and Mass Effect essays. You can follow his fixations on Twitter.
Continue reading...
With Spider-Man: No Way Home’s big box-office debut, it’s clear that Spidey mania is here to stay. Spider-Man 4 is in early development, and the incredible ticket sales and strong critical praise for No Way Home means that not only Marvel and Sony but also every other studio will be looking at how the film accomplished this feat and trying their best to replicate it.
However, No Way Home’s success is at least partially attributable to it already being part of an established template that has become the most dominant force in blockbuster filmmaking within the past five years: the so-called “legacy sequel,” which gives audiences a concentrated dose of fanservice and nostalgia while still technically moving the story forward. Despite legacy sequels as a trend having been lambasted by many (and for good reason!), Spider-Man: No Way Home might be the most successful film from a quality standpoint to come out of this entire cycle.
How did they do it? Strap in, Spider-Fans. It’s time to find out.
What Is a Legacy Sequel, Anyway?
One of the most frustrating aspects of talking about “legacy sequels” is that the term doesn’t even have an agreed upon definition. Discussions about this trend often lead to difficulty nailing down specific parameters for what makes a film qualify for the distinction, with many seemingly adhering to an approach once outlined by Charlie Cox’s Matt Murdock (who makes a cameo appearance in NWH) in the first season of Daredevil: “Often it’s like pornography. You just know when you see it.” (Of course, that line was a reference to U.S. Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s famous obscenity threshold test from 1964.)
Although some have pegged the trend’s starting point earlier, I think it’s safe to say that, if not their point of origin, legacy sequels as a template for Hollywood blockbusters were codified in 2015 with the releases of Jurassic World, Creed, and Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Identifying markers of the legacy sequel, as established by these films, appear to be:
- A narrative and thematic preoccupation with the concept of legacy
- A focus on delivering nostalgic moments and fanservice for the audience, often built around familiar franchise iconography, callbacks and references
- Recycling plot beats and narrative structure from a previous film while maintaining continuity with at least the first installment
- Bringing back beloved older characters and actors from the original films to interact with the newer, younger cast
- Being a revival of a film franchise that has existed long enough to be multi-generational (at least 15-20 years)
- Being positioned in marketing or discussed by fandom as a “course correction” from perceived mistakes made by previous installments
Not every legacy sequel adheres to all six, but these are the most common signifiers of films that fit into this template. Such films include Pirates of the Caribbean 5, Terminator: Dark Fate, Halloween 2018, the modern Star Wars sequels, Space Jam: A New Legacy (ha), Ghostbusters: Afterlife, and even arguably the entire Fantastic Beasts franchise, which fits most of the parameters even if those operate as legacy prequels rather than sequels. So what precisely makes No Way Home stand out from the pack? That has everything to do with how its greatest advantage is the key way in which it deviates from the template.
A Method to Its (Multiversal) Madness
Spider-Man: No Way Home uses a multiverse plot conceit to bring together three separate Spider-Man film franchises (comprising eight movies total for those Spider-Man: Counting at Home), yet the inciting incident is one that is remarkably familiar for anyone who’s spent any time with Spider-Man stories: Peter makes a mistake with the best of intentions, and then has to take responsibility so he can fix it. Everything about the movie that functions as a legacy sequel is built out of the story foundation of re-centering both this film and the wider MCU Spider-Man franchise around Peter Parker and his struggle to be a better person, to truly live up to his most famous mantra regarding power and responsibility.
The fact that No Way Home skips the legacy sequel convention of reusing the basic plot outline of a previous film means that all the other elements of its makeup can be supplemental instead of essential. There are numerous returning characters, callbacks, references and even payoffs for emotional threads from previous film franchises, but none of them are the principal focus of the story, instead serving as conduits through which the film relitigates the cinematic development of this particular Peter Parker. There is a surface level joy to seeing Alfred Molina reprise his iconic role as Doctor Octopus, or Willem Dafoe going unhinged as the Green Goblin one more time, and of course, Tom Holland sharing the screen with Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield. Yet while these are all undoubtedly fan-pleasing additions, No Way Home finds surprisingly adept ways to make them critical components of Peter’s internal journey.
The collection of multiverse villains presents Peter with a genuine moral quandary: Some of them are going to die if he allows Strange to send them back to their home universe, but if he doesn’t he’s putting the fabric of reality at risk. The fact that Peter doesn’t have a previously established relationship to the villains prior to the botched spell makes his choice (after some coaxing from Aunt May, who becomes Peter’s moral anchor for the first time in the series) to risk everything to save their lives even more potent; it’s a choice made of sincere moral conviction, to save strangers who would otherwise likely kill him without a second thought. It’s a choice that also makes things exponentially more difficult for him going forward, but what is that if not the Spider-Man way?
The Spider-Man Way
Near the end of the film’s second act, Ned accidentally pulls the Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield versions of Peter Parker into the movie using a stolen sling ring. Getting the three major cinematic Peter Parkers into the same room was the most anticipated element of the film for many, even if it was (allegedly) a secret until its release. Again, on the surface, these are crowd-pleasing extended cameos, but once again they actually do serve a narrative function as it relates to our protagonist: to present contrast with where Peter is in his own arc and facilitate it coming to its natural endpoint.
These are crowd-pleasing extended cameos, but they actually do serve a narrative function as it relates to our protagonist: to present contrast with where Peter is in his own arc.
The MCU’s Peter Parker is still a teenager, and now he’s confronted with alternate versions of himself in his late twenties (Andrew Garfield is 38 in real life, but his Peter is absolutely coded as much younger than that in the film) and mid-forties. Garfield’s Peter presents himself as jovial, but is still clearly struggling with the death of Gwen Stacy; he tells MCU Peter about how he lost sight of who he was supposed to be in the aftermath of that tragedy, becoming an angrier, more vengeful Spider-Man who “stopped pulling his punches,” something that MCU Peter is threatening to become after the loss of Aunt May. Maguire’s Peter has many regrets too, but he’s far enough removed from them to be calmer and more explicitly mentor-like in the same conversation, which plays like a therapy session for all of them. These two Peters trying to help a younger version of themselves through his most formative moment of loss grounds their appearance in tangible emotion that would only really be possible via the multiverse storyline.
The movie even provides emotional closure for Garfield’s Peter, whose own series was cut short after the box office disappointment of The Amazing Spider-Man 2. His saving MJ is primarily cathartic for Garfield’s Peter, who finally finds some redemption in saving the love of Peter Parker’s life, even if he is not the Peter Parker in question. Compare this to, say, The Rise of Skywalker where Rey, who has sought a sense of home, belonging and family for the entire Star Wars sequel trilogy, arrives at the Lars homestead at the end of the film. The scene is presenting that she’s found what she’s been looking for, but it only plays to the audience so they can recognize imagery from previous films. Rey has no connection to Tatooine, it was not a place of comfort or belonging for the characters she knew who did have a connection to it, and her declaration of being “Rey Skywalker” rings hollow because being a Skywalker was not what she was setting out to achieve. There is a clear distinction between scenes where catharsis can ring true for both character and audience and those where that same catharsis is simply designed for the audience only.
Most importantly, No Way Home reaffirms Peter Parker’s basic humanity even in the face of those who have hurt him the most. Seeing MCU Peter beat the Green Goblin to a pulp in the finale before lifting the glider to impale him is tense and horrifying in a way this version of Peter has never been. But who stops him from killing the Goblin? Maguire’s Peter, and who better to help bring MCU Peter from the brink but another version of himself who once struggled with the same dark impulse, who once hunted down and tried to murder Sandman after learning he was truly responsible for Uncle Ben’s death? Peter’s subsequent choices to sacrifice everyone’s knowledge of him to repair the damage to the multiverse, and then allow his friends to live on without knowing him, end the film on a melancholy note, but also with a sense of actual change for Peter. He is no longer a child, an apprentice of Tony Stark, or even an Avenger. He’s had to face himself, both by looking inward and outward, and from now on his path is truly his own.
There is absolutely a ceiling for this “type” of movie. It’s not great that this is the model for seemingly every blockbuster nowadays. But like the hero at its center, No Way Home finds a way to stand apart.
For more on the film, check out our No Way Home ending explained, dig in on how the Spider-Man post credits scene connects Venom to the MCU, see if you have answers to our biggest No Way Home WTF questions, and ponder how important What If...? has become thanks to that Doctor Strange 2 teaser.
Carlos Morales writes novels, articles and Mass Effect essays. You can follow his fixations on Twitter.
Continue reading...