When films like The Dark Knight, Logan and Joker were all released, there was much talk about them “elevating” the superhero genre. That their decidedly more adult tones and subject matter were the way forward, and served to legitimize the genre in the eyes of academics and weary critics. Dark Knight and Logan, undeniably, are masterpieces (Joker is...a movie) and there most certainly is a place for their mature takes on super heroic characters. But when I think about superhero comics, I don’t think about gritty realism. I think about the vivid colors, the larger than life action and the humanity at the center of it’s storytelling. What I find missing from most adaptations of comic books, is the sheer joy of them. There is a deeply optimistic heart at the center of superhero comics with their idealization and wish fulfillment. We see a pulpy, picturesque look at who we could be if only we had the powers, and it inspires us to be who we should be even without them. It is life affirming to see the trials and tribulations of superhero life on those beneath the masks, to see ourselves in their infinite humanity and believe, if only for a moment, that someone could step up and do the right thing no matter the cost. And while while many of the superhero films we’ve gotten in bulk during the 2010’s are certainly a little lighter in tone, there is still an ever present obsession with dramatic realism amidst all the equally oppressive witty banter and Intricate, shared universe plotting. Plenty of superhero films have fist pumping moments but few that actually seek to inspire. The films often show us superheroes doing things, but seldom do they ever tell us stories about what it means, and how it feels, to actually be a superhero. So god fucking damn, do I love Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. This animated masterwork is overflowing with revelry for comic books. It understands what makes them so special, so fun and so unique. But most of all, it understands how powerful they can be. It flawlessly tells a story about great expectations, legacy and responsibility. It shows us the regular human side of these worlds and what happens when one of us is thrust in. It’s about how the hardest part of doing good, is convincing ourselves we’re capable of it. Spider-Man’s status as the universally relatable everyman of superheroes already makes him perfect for a story like this (and Sam Raimi’s masterful, Spider-Man 2, already did). But Spider-Verse takes this a step further. It takes the Spider-Man mythology and opens it up to include every person who watches it and doesn’t settle for simply being relatable. It’s not about how Spider-Man is just like you, but about how you are just like Spider-Man. That there’s no right way to be Spider-Man. That no matter who you are or where you come from, the only thing stopping you from being Spider-Man, is doubt. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse captures all the joy, hope and energy of superhero comic books more than any other adaptation of the genre. Where others seek to deconstruct superheroic archetypes, Spider-Verse seeks to demonstrate why they’re so effective in the first place. It’s unafraid to inspire, to lighten the load and to revel in zaniness. It is prime evidence that adult themes and dark stories aren’t the future of the genre or what it needs to be legitimate and effective. Incredible stories that find great depths of humanity wrapped up in a pop art package with amazing sights only fiction can create, are all it needs. More superhero movies with this high a quality of storytelling and a reverence for their source material are the real missing ingredients. Creativity really is all you need. Spider-Verse is truly amongst the best this genre has to offer and a testament to the immeasurable power of this kind of storytelling. It is greatly powerful, and responsibly great.