Spider-Noir Review: Spider-Man Does Whatever Bogie Can | Den of Geek

This review contains light spoilers for Spider-Noir.

We still haven’t fully reckoned with what a miracle of a movie Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is. That film introduced mass audiences to a new variation of Spider-Man who wasn’t Peter Parker, while putting the famously street-level, friendly neighborhood hero into a dimension-hopping story, one that also starred a Spider-Pig, a Spider-Robot, a Spider-Gwen, and a Spider-Gumshoe. Against all odds, Into the Spider-Verse not only gave us a delightful adventure with dazzling visuals and punchy gags, but it also managed to be a satisfying story about new kid Miles Morales.

Yet, despite Spider-Verse‘s success, the first spinoff series from the franchise seemed like a disposable lark at best, an IP-grubbing overextension at worst. We should have known better. Spider-Noir is a delightful bit of hard-boiled television, faithful to both its roots in comic books and film noir, while standing on its own.

In Spider-Noir, Nicolas Cage reprises his Spider-Verse role as a web-slinging hero who wears a black mask under his fedora, but this isn’t exactly the same character. Not only does Spider-Noir have a PG-13 edge, with some more overt violence and stronger curse words, but the show lacks any references to adventures with Miles and Gwen, and certainly any existence of a multiverse.

In fact, Spider-Noir isn’t really interested in shared universe nods at all, even if show runners Oren Uziel and Steve Lightfoot (and, to be sure, Cage himself) can’t resist pulling sequences from noirs such as The Lady from Shanghai or The Big Sleep. Instead, Spider-Noir tells a contained story about Ben Reilly (Cage), who once fought crime as the Spider, but after losing his beloved, now serves the almighty dollar as a cynical private investigator in post-World War II New York. Hired to investigate the burning of a mansion belonging to the Irish mobster Silvermane (Brendan Gleeson), named so for the streaks of grey in his hair, Ben finds himself pulled deeper into a web of danger.

Like any proper noir, a femme fatale keeps Ben involved, namely Cat Hardy (Li Jun Li), a singer at Silvermane’s club. However, when Ben discovers that the arsonist has superpowers like him, his search not only brings him back to a camp his platoon liberated during the war, but also refugees from that camp who have developed their own abilities, including the Sandman Flint Marko (Jack Huston), soft-hearted strong man Lonnie Lincoln (Abraham Popoola), and the theatrical electric user Dirk Leydon a.k.a. Megawatt (Andrew Lewis Caldwell). As much as Ben would rather leave that part of his past behind, his reporter friend Joe “Robbie” Robertson (Lamorne Morris) calls upon his help to stop Silvermane from building an army of supervillains.

Over-plotting is a hallmark of hard-boiled detective fiction, but unlike Raymond Chandler or Dashiell Hammett, Uziel and Lightfoot keep the story beats and motivations clear. However, they honor what came before not just with a few well-chosen homages, but by maintaining the spirit of the genre. Ben rarely feels like Peter Parker or any other costumed hero. But he does feel like Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe, or Johnny Farrell from Gilda, a man whose cynical exterior hides a heart of gold. With his drooping face and natural drawl, Cage makes for a natural sad-sack, his greased black hair only adding to the facade.

Spider-Noir further honors its genre with whip-smart dialogue, which sometimes goes beyond Bogie and Bacall to pay tribute to Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell on His Girl Friday. Even when inebriated and hopeless, Ben never misses a beat, downing opponents with his withering wit if his spider-powers aren’t in use.

Which happens more than one would think for a show about a Marvel superhero. It’s not just Ben’s reluctance to become the Spider again that keeps the superheroics to a minimum (nor is it a limited budget, which afflicts any show on MGM+ or Prime Video, Spider-Noir‘s home). Instead, one rarely feels like we need to see the Spider shooting webs or crawling walls, even when Ben puts back on his mask, because the story is solid enough. Ben makes for a compelling character, as do all the supporting figures around him. The mystery may not be particularly complex, but it unfolds at a pace that keeps us watching, especially in the twisty final chapter.

This isn’t to say that Spider-Noir does away with superhero fight scenes altogether. Most episodes have at least one, and they’re shot well enough. It’s just that Cage himself is the ultimate special effect, especially since Spider-Noir gives him plenty of space to have fun. As Ben Reilly goes through his investigation, he repeatedly finds himself needing to talk his way out of situations. Sometimes, he dons a goofy hat and silly glasses, à la Bogie in The Big Sleep; in other cases, a broad accent does the trick. Fifteen years ago, these bits would be shared on the internet as evidence that Cage is a terrible actor. Now, we know better, that they’re all strong choices from a compelling performer, and Spider-Noir gives us no reason to change our minds now.

Just as good is Spider-Noir‘s supporting cast, particularly Morris and Gleeson. As viewers of New Girl can attest, Morris excels at playing a weirdo who seems to be in his own world, giving a sly grin as if he’s enjoying an inside joke shared only by himself. That quality translates well to Robbie, a reporter who knows more than anyone else (including Ben’s identity as the Spider), but constantly has to deal with arrogant editors, bully cops, and general systemic racism (which Spider-Noir acknowledges with more bluntness than one would expect). Morris has fun with the role without ever sacrificing Robbie’s integrity, finally doing justice to the longtime Spider-Man supporting character.

For his part, Silvermane differs wildly from his comic book counterpart, lacking a robotic body or a background in the Italian mafia (or Maggia, to use the term required by Marvel editorial). Instead, he’s an Irish immigrant willing to do anything to avoid the poverty he experienced as a child in his homeland. An actor with Gleeson’s presence could easily phone in the role and still be magnetic. But Gleeson deftly plays the part of the heavy, rarely actually raising his hand or his voice to threaten his underlings, even those who can shrug off bullets or shoot lightning. Instead, he rules with soft eyes and quiet threats, making him a compelling match for the Spider.

When relying on its dialogue and performances, Spider-Noir satisfies. It slips some when it veers too far into other genres, particularly when mad scientists enter the story towards the back half. Amy Aquino and Andrew Robinson are always welcome on our screens, but the shift to Universal horror is one ingredient too many, as is a misjudged sequence that feels more like the Mysterio hallucination in Spider-Man: Far From Home than it does anything staring Jimmy Cagney.

These missteps are few, far less than one would expect from what otherwise seemed like one more unnecessary addition to the superhero television glut. For the most part, Spider-Noir stands on its own, reminding us not just about the fun of superheroes but about the gloomy pleasures of film noir.