As a child, I dreamt of superheroes.

Greek mythology was my first exposure to the fantastic. I devoured these stories and anything like them. Here was something that touched me on both a visceral and intellectual level that nothing had in my young life. Folklore and myths from all over the world augmented this wonder, and it was quite natural for me to link these modes of storytelling to the superheroes I visited through Saturday morning cartoons (and later comic book), such as Spider-Man, Batman, and the X-Men. It's a link that's always fascinated me, to the point that I wrote my undergrad thesis on the relationship between classical mythology and modern superheroes.

Alexis de Tocqueville wrote that there "is no misery so deep, nor happiness so pure, that it can touch our minds and move our hearts, unless we are shown ourselves under a different guise." It took me a long time to grow into am understanding of this, which is why these stories matter at all. We explore ourselves in another form. We search for answers in the familiar, though it is also unfamiliar. Stories will always be a part of humanity's deeper search for meaning, and the kind of stories featuring Heracles or Kal El can be equally legitimate expressions of these questions.

There are few things I love more than when such stories reach the heights of expression, show us ourselves and our humanity in a form both poignant and alien. Few things in storytelling move me more. There is an obstacle to this that arises when these stories are monetized, and that is profitability. I'm not against making money, especially when it means rewarding artists for their work, but the instinct to control content due to past successes or failures seems increasingly restrictive. Especially as increasing profit means more and more money is on the line.

This is exactly the stranglehold which so quickly saps life and imagination out of so many great characters. Oftentimes, it happens before they even get a chance to reach their full potential. It is what happens when Warner decides we need a new Batman reboot every few years, whether we're talking live films or animated shows. It is why the MCU has experienced an increasing curve of formulaic films with little to offer other than spectacle (which has its place, but is not enough on its own).

Before the rise of the MCU, superhero movies based on pre-existing characters were often hit or miss. Even reaching back to the live-action serials that played in matinees, there has been a mix of types of stories told, and the best examples flow from the characters themselves. Spider-Man 2 remains my favorite superhero movie of all time because I believe it is the perfect balance of character-driven story and superhero spectacle (Guardians of the Galaxy 2 is another film that maintains this balance, in my opinion). Sam Raimi's first two Spider-Man films are the cream of the crop, but that's not to say everything else was crap. So what changed?

The growing momentum and profitability of the Marvel films since 2008 under the guidance of Kevin Feige is unprecedented. As a kid I never thought Tony Stark would ever be a household name, yet here we are. I love that more people love these characters now. I love that the movies are doing so well. I love that comics are booming. And yet...

The MCU's formulaic approach to adapting comics is undeniable. And ultimately, it doesn't detract from the characters themselves as they (or, at least, most of them) already exist in different forms to be consumed and appreciated. I'm not a huge fan of how Winter Soldier was adapted, so I can read the comic by Ed Brubaker. Don't like Ledger's Joker? Go watch Batman '89 or read the plethora of comics featuring the character. There are plenty of options, so what's the big deal? Output. If the output remains the same, that diversified background of material featuring superheroes and the like becomes less and less varied.

This is driven, as mentioned above, by sales. And whether or not you like MCU films, even in the best case scenario this is a case of too much of a good thing. And this is the state in which we are now. After ten years of Feige's machine churning along, this year's Infinity War left me underwhelmed. I liked it, I thought it was a decent movie. But nowhere in sight was my enthusiasm of past years.

Hell, I remember literally jumping for joy when I saw the teaser poster for X-Men 3. My feeling of anticipation for X-Men goddamn 3 outmatched the same for Infinity War! Teenage me would never believe it. Even the ones I love are rarely rewatched, partly because I can't go five minutes without Marvel releasing another movie. It is too much. In line with this, my excitement for Spider-Verse was minimal. I went in with no expectations, beyond a couple hours at the theater with my kids, which is rare enough to be a treat no matter what we see.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is the first superhero film that feels as if it weren't cut from the MCU cloth in almost the entire last decade. It's fresh in all the right ways: an ensemble of new characters (to the screen, anyhow), imaginative execution, and a visually engaging style that actually helps tell the story rather than serve as window dressing. It's also got plenty of familiar, played with in ways that can't happen when every single reboot to date treads the same water.

I don't want to go over every detail of the movie, partly because I would prefer simply to bask in the experience. I will, however, share my top highlights of the film, which are the story and the animation. The story is fun and fanstastical, using familiar tropes (sci-fi macguffin, et al) to play with varying ideals and assumptions. The heroic/traditional Peter Parker's death contrasted with the life of his slovenly double is the most obvious example, but pretty much every Spider-Hero in the movie has some element of subverting expectations. The supporting cast of characters is also excellent, with the true standout being the Prowler. He was written in an emotionally grounded way that made him entirely effective despite a short amount of screen time, which was crucial to the development of Miles Morales as a character.

The animation is another plus, especially when a the current animation landscape mostly consists of CGI that wants to copy Pixar without any of the charm and half the skill. Spider-Verse is a visual breath of fresh air. In fact, I think this might be one of the greatest computer animated films of all time. The world is so richly created from the ground up, and later altered by introducing the characters from different dimensions which include their own unique visual style, cues, and symbols. This rich visual contextualizing is at a level previously unseen. The visual makeup of the movie is almost a character itself. I've heard some refer to it as overwhelming, and I do not want to speak to any particular viewer's sensory threshold but my own. And I will say, there is a lot going on in almost every frame.

I'm rambling so badly, I apologize if you have actually read this far. Let me finish with some thoughts on Stan Lee. His cameo actually moved me to tears. This is a man who had many faults (especially as a collaborator and boss in Marvel's early days), but at his core simply wanted to tell good stories. He spent the first half of his life tormenting himself over never achieving his true dream, which was to write a great American novel and join the ranks of Dreiser, Sinclair, and Hemingway. Working in the funny papers was just a distraction. A distraction that swallowed him whole and made him feel trapped and insignificant.

It wasn't until the late 80's when he truly began to come to terms with his work at Marvel, specifically seeing his (co)creations bring joy and brightness to lives all over the globe. He loved Joan, and was married to her for seventy years until her death. A year and a half later, he followed her. But not before he appeared in this film so that, one last time, he could share with us the story of a scrawny kid trying to figure out who he is in the face of loss, and discovering a hero. Anyone can wear the mask.

After watching Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, I went home. Got through the rest of my day, including playing with my kids and telling my wife about the movie. Eventually I went to bed, and something special happened.

I dreamt about superheroes again.