Brief Synopsis: Miles Morales is a biracial teenager living in a New York City where the best crimefighter around is unarguably Spider-Man — much to the chagrin of Miles’ father, a police officer who does not share Miles’ admiration for the web-slinging vigilante. But that’s only one reason the relationship between Miles and his father is strained. Miles is exceptionally gifted, both academically and artistically, but the weight of expectations is overwhelming him, so he retreats to an abandoned subway station to paint graffiti with his Uncle Aaron…and gets bitten by a radioactive spider. Sound familiar? With newfound Spidey powers, Miles Morales is thrown into a universe (or multiverse) that seems out of his league. In the abandoned station, he stumbles upon Wilson Fisk’s next nefarious scheme: a particle accelerator that can open a window to parallel universes but could destroy reality itself. The particle accelerator works long enough for multiple Spider-People (you know who they are) to be tossed into Miles’ universe, where they form the weirdest team of superheroes New York has ever seen. Miles has to learn what it means to wear the Spider-Man mask in time to web up and save the multi-verse.

Before I get into the heart of my explanation, I’d like to say that this category was extremely close. The Incredibles has always held a place in my heart, so I had to be super nitpicky when it came to deciding what film is the “best” animated feature. In the end, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse has John Mulaney voicing a pig who can fly, so that is clearly the deciding factor.

Let’s start at the beginning. Back when Spider-Man was a dorky, high schooler with a major crush on his best friend’s girlfriend — back to Sam Raimi’s version of Spider-Man, when “With great power...” was not a household catchphrase and supervillains were allowed to have tragic backstories. Even if you don’t enjoy Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man or wish Mary Jane was utilized as something more than the constant damsel in distress, you have to appreciate Spider-Man (2001) for changing the landscape of superhero films. Raimi’s Spider-Man was an original creation, transforming corny comic book tropes into dramatic, realistic action scenes. Whether it was an upside-down kiss or the thrill of discovery for Spider-Man’s first attempt at climbing up buildings, Raimi made being Spider-Man the coolest superhero around. And for the past 17 years, we’ve been chasing that feeling of originality. Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man was redundant, riding the curtails of the original trilogy; Tom Holland’s Spider-Man was somewhat limited to fit within the confines of the MCU universe. 

Jump to 2018. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. Untethered, unlimited — it’s a spectacular love letter to comic books and the Spider-Man franchise, and distinctly its own Spidey. Gorgeous, hilarious, and emotional, Spider-Verse makes Spider-Man feel fresh and original — the way it was to me as a 7-year-old kid.

One reason is that Spider-Verse puts a brand new twist on the idea of “With great power comes great responsibility,” because at first, it doesn’t apply to Miles. He’s a highly academic, artistic individual…but the first act of the film is dedicated to showing the audience that he, like many scared teenagers, doesn’t know what he wants out of life. On top of that, he’s unexpectedly surrounded by a multitude of Spider-People who are already well beyond their own tragic backstories while Miles is in the middle of his own. Strangely, in the pecking order of power and responsibility when it comes to the Spider-People, Miles is below a talking pig. By comparison to his fellow Spider-People, Miles has zero power, which amounts to zero responsibility. Yet, Miles carries the weight of being his universe’s Spider-Man, and though he cannot control his powers, he’s desperate to prove he belongs fighting Wilson Fisk like the rest of the Spider-People. That Miles is a Spider-Man with great responsibility but no power is actually a great parallel for his personal life, where he has little control — stuck at a school he doesn’t want to be at and struggling to connect with his father. Even the other Spider-People don’t trust him, believing that Miles is incapable of donning the suit without killing himself or someone else  And they’re right. Miles can’t control his powers — his webs shoot sporadically and his hands stick to everything he touches (a moment of silence for Gwen Stacy’s hair.) He shouldn’t be trusted out in the field, but that’s what I love most about the film is that it takes the time to develop Miles’ character and his powers. It doesn’t shy away from highlighting Miles’ high sense of moral duty but demonstrating how much he has to mature before he can rightfully wear the new, amazing Spider-Man graffiti logo.