MADAME WEB. Like a TV Series Pilot [REVIEW]

In 2024, another installment of Sony’s Spider-Man–adjacent cinematic universe hits theaters—a universe that, like no other, has reminded us of the superhero genre’s turn-of-the-century beginnings, as awkward as they were charming. This time, the spotlight falls on several heroines from the Spider-Man comics, whose intertwined fates have been turned into yet another studio-typical product: Madame Web, a clumsy little film for no one, roundly rejected by nearly all critics worldwide.

The story told in Madame Web is simple—if not downright simplistic. Ezekiel Sims (Tahar Rahim), an influential billionaire endowed with spider-like powers, dreams of three Spider-Women (Sydney Sweeney, Isabela Merced, and Celeste O’Connor) who bring about his death, so he decides to kill them while they are still teenagers (I’m not kidding). Standing between Ezekiel and the girls, however, is Cassie Webb (Dakota Johnson), a young paramedic who begins to discover her own superhuman abilities.

From that absurd starting point onward, the film turns into a fairly classic chase narrative modeled on The Terminator by James Cameron—a story about innocent victims and their protector (here: victims and a protectress) fleeing an unstoppable, relentless antagonist.

All of this is propped up by the mythology of the Spider-Man comic-book world, which the filmmakers use so loosely that it’s hard not to feel they may have seen a comic book only once—
at a neighbor’s,
through a window.

At the center are heroines who, in the comics, held the mantle of various Spider-Women (or Spider-Girl), yet here we see them in costume only in a few-second-long visions and never learn how they are supposed to gain their powers. The titular Madame Web herself is difficult to connect to her comic-book counterpart, while Ezekiel—one of the most intriguing and morally ambiguous characters introduced to Spider-Man comics in the 21st century—has been reduced to a completely characterless villain. To make matters worse, drifting aimlessly in the background for no clear reason are Peter Parker’s uncle (Adam Scott) and his pregnant mother (Emma Roberts)—Peter Parker being the Spider-Man everyone knows.

But of course, all of this is just geeky complaining, because in the end the film isn’t quite as bad as Western reviewers would have it. That is to say, it’s obviously not successful—the dialogue makes your ears wilt, the script’s absurdities and simplifications fry your brain, and the frantic editing hurts your eyes—but the simplicity and universality of the plot can still engage, especially since the main characters are likable, likely thanks to a solid cast led by Dakota Johnson, Sydney Sweeney, and Adam Scott. And after the screening, you’re left not with the level of embarrassment associated with Morbius or the second Venom, but rather with a shrug akin to watching a random late-night action flick on some obscure TV channel, or stumbling upon a rightly forgotten pilot of a superhero TV show you’ve never heard of.

And no, this film cannot, in good conscience, be recommended to absolutely anyone. Nor can one avoid feeling the wasted potential of this comic-book universe and the disappointment of such an underused—yet excellent—cast. It’s hard to shake the thought that “Toxic” by Britney Spears deserved a better action scene. Still, the world has undoubtedly seen far worse films based on Marvel comics. Setting aside Sony’s aforementioned nightmares, even the third Ant-Man could probably learn a thing or two from Madame Web.