Spider-Man is a drawing. Having spent more than half a century, now, with Spider-Man climbing one wall of my life or another, this is an impossible reality to accept. The superhero we’ve seen in thousands of comic books, TV shows (live-action!), nine major movies, and on Broadway, for crying out loud, is the creation of Marvel’s Stan Lee (writer) and Steve Ditko (artist). The drawing first appeared in a 1962 comic book, Amazing Fantasy (#15), that didn’t even have Spidey’s name in the title.
Let me tell you, when Spider-Man: Brand New Day hits movie screens on July 31st, he will be far more than a drawing to the millions buying tickets to see the webslinger do his thing in a world that has forgotten Peter Parker. (Be sure and see Spider-Man: No Way Home before you buy that ticket. The world’s amnesia requires explanation.) I see Spider-Man bicycles on the Hyde Lake Promenade, Spider-Man backpacks on children in my friendly neighborhood, Spider-Man T-shirts on fans very small and quite large. Superman is a brand, granted. Lots of Batman and Wonder Woman out there, too. But Spider-Man? He’s jumped off the page and screen and become of us. Why?
To begin with, there’s empathy for Parker and the feels-real world he inhabits. A teenager in Queens (later a Chelsea apartment), he is a superhero who came upon his powers not just by accident. He was bitten by a spider. Might any of us, here in Memphis, find a superhuman future as Mosquito-Man? If you haven’t asked that question, you’re not fully engaged in Spider-Man’s origin story. It’s random, mildly painful, and happens — to someone, somewhere — every single day.
Your Spider-Man is likely different from my Spider-Man. Same for his friends and enemies. You don’t have to adapt to a character’s world as it was created more than 60 years ago. Spider-Man is adapting to your world. He’s meeting you where you are.
Here in 2026, though, Spider-Man is not merely Peter Parker behind a mask. Three actors (Toby Maguire, Andrew Garfield, and Tom Holland) have each played Spidey in multiple live-action flicks since 2002, all as Parker. But Miles Morales is a newer (2011 debut) webslinging teen and the central character in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, the Oscar-winning animated film released in 2018. Morales is Black, with Latino blood (his mother is Puerto Rican). You’ll still find Parker in comic books, including the original Amazing Spider-Man title. But his alter ego is simply too large not to occupy other lives in what’s come to be accepted as Marvel’s “multiverse.”
I grew up with a crush on Mary Jane Watson, Parker’s girlfriend and later wife. She was a vibrant redhead, flashy and fun in a way that boys reading comic books find sexy. In the new movie, you’ll see “MJ,” but she’s no flashy redhead. Played by Zendaya, Michelle Jones-Watson is a skeptical introvert, with charms more subtle than the “MJ” Parker married in a 1987 comic book. Ned Leeds? He’s Parker’s best friend in the Holland movies. In the comic-books I knew, Leeds was revealed to be one of Spider-Man’s nastiest villains.
See how this works? Your Spider-Man is likely different from my Spider-Man. Same for his friends and enemies. You don’t have to adapt to a character’s world as it was created more than 60 years ago. Spider-Man is adapting to your world. He’s meeting you where you are. Old-school fans have hundreds of comic books that will enliven their hero. Those new to Spidey may go from their custom bike to a video game with no sign of Peter Parker. Both diversions are magical.
I sold my Amazing Spider-Man collection a few years ago, almost 400 comic books paying for an unforgettable trip to Hawaii. It was time. I’m in a life stage where downsizing is healthy and, more important to my heart, those comic books need to be enjoyed by new readers (or collectors). In April 2012, my family took a trip to New York City — Spidey’s home sweet home — and we saw Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark on Broadway. We were seated in an upper level, near the front and, midway through the production, Spider-Man swung up and landed in the aisle next to our seats. If 400 comic books can be brought to life, it happened that night in Manhattan.
So yes, a “drawing” has brought joy to my life in several forms for more than a half-century. It’s been said we are every age we’ve lived, for as long as we’re here. Safe to say, the 9-year-old in me will be seated in a movie theater this summer, wondering how my pal Spider-Man can once again be greatly responsible with his great power. Bad guys beware.
