Fun and fantastical, Marvel’s latest entry is a high-octane action fest. Old villains make a fresh return across Holland’s web-swinging hero, but I can’t help but feel like I watched this film three years ago… and it was better then.  

In 2019, much to the chagrin of Marvel fanatics, Martin Scorsese declared that he doesn’t believe Marvel movies to be ‘cinema’.

When he later expanded on his thoughts, Scorsese described his perspective on film, defining the ‘cinema’ he grew up on. He calls it an art form, and I can’t help but agree with him.

Marvel don’t push the boundaries of cinematic art, they play it safe. The pictures are made to satisfy a specific set of demands, and they are designed as variations on a finite number of themes.

Spider-Man: No Way Home may be Marvel’s first ‘risk’ in a long time. As their cinematic universe perpetually grows by the year, it is finally time to start cashing in all the multiverse chips that the Disney-owned studio have been setting up. Peter Parker’s (Tom Holland) identity has been revealed, effectively ruining his life as the public scrutinises him over the death of Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal). College applications denied, the Spider-Menace goes to Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) for help.

Strange’s spell goes wrong, dragging in most of the villains across Spider-Man’s cinematic history. Green Goblin (Willem Dafoe), Doc Ock (Alfred Molina), Sandman (Thomas Haden Church), The Lizard (Rhys Ifans), Electro (Jamie Foxx) – it’s everyone’s favourite neighbourhood reunion.

Dragged from their own universes into Marvel’s MCU, No Way Home revels in the confusion as long-time friends meet again while others cross paths for the first time. It is wild and exciting. This isn’t the same Marvel flick that I have seen repeatedly for the past few years; it is exciting as beloved characters make their long-awaited return in style, my nostalgia finally ready to bite onto Marvel’s hook.

But I already have. In 2018, I fell in love with Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. Finally, I was getting to see a succinct superhero film, a popcorn flick that goes deeper than the surface level itch, a unique retelling that harkens back to the ‘humble’ beginnings of the MCU (it is hard to think of Favreau’s Iron Man as ‘fresh’, but that was long before it became a blueprint for over a decade of films).

Which is why I am a little confused. Across No Way Home’s long two-and half-hour runtime, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was witnessing a watered-down version of Sony’s masterpiece. Where Spider-Verse balanced its fan-servicey references with quick choreography and an emotionally investing plot, No Way Home focuses on the nostalgia trip and although they do it well, the weak plot barely strings along the adrenaline rush, throwing in a reference or two to make sure the audience doesn’t wake up from their endorphin-fuelled trance.

Scorsese is right, Marvel simply don’t take risks. They knew people wanted this and after Spider-Verse’s success, they knew people would like it. Driven by its gimmick, No Way Home dusts of Holland’s ‘Home’ trilogy with cheap thrills and a lacklustre attempt at weaving them together, but that doesn’t mean the film isn’t fun.

In fact, it is incredibly fun. As the audience erupted with applause when the Green Goblin flew onto the scene, I was there with them, screaming my head off as Dafoe’s cackle instantly took me back to Sam Rami’s high-octane Spider-Man. Five minutes later, the wonder had already worn off as ham-fisted references bloated the awe.

Spoilers ahead (sort of).

I can’t talk about this film without mentioning the spider in the room. Well, all three of them. Yes, both Toby Maguire and Andrew Garfield return as their respective Spider-Men… and thank God they did.

If the theatre was ecstatic earlier, then the room practically exploded when Andrew Garfield appeared. People were screaming, and so was I. It was incredible. None of us knew if they were going to show up and when they do, as Spider-Man usually does, they save the day.

They don’t fix the film, not by a long shot, but they do breathe life into it. No Way Home shamelessly drags you in with its cool factor and never lets you go, constantly upping the ante until the reunion finally happens. I have always found myself on Tom Holland’s side when it comes to the ‘best Spider-Man’ (he is definitely the best fit as high school Parker), but I would like to change my vote to Garfield. Normally relegated to third place, the Brit is not only the funniest of the trio but clearly carries the most baggage, even though he (unfortunately) never got a full trilogy.

And then the credits rolled. I waited patiently like any other Marvel fan in-the-know (which, these days, seems to be the majority). There are two post-credit clips. The first is a slapped-on reference just in case you missed the previous thousand, but it is the second that made me leave the theatre feeling glum. It’s a short trailer for Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. Is that really what you want to end on? The audience loved it, but I couldn’t help but feel like the film had just been cheapened: just another forgetful film across an ever-increasingly forgetful franchise. It feels like the cow has been milked for nothing.