Spider-Man & Wolverine #1: Weapon Webs

From the moment it was announced, I was uncontrollably excited for the beautiful slop that Spider-Man & Wolverine looked to be. The kind of comic where chaos reigns, logic takes a backseat, and spectacle takes the wheel. And with Kaare Andrews on art duties, it didn’t really matter who was writing it—this thing was bound to be a grand time. That said, it’s managed to exceed even those low-expectation/high-anticipation vibes with a sharp, personality-driven script that hits the ground running and never really lets up. The ever-storied Marc Guggenheim is at the helm here, a writer who knows his way around both of these characters in a way that always seems to please.

That deep familiarity comes through immediately in an opening that doesn’t just reference previous Spidey/Wolvie crossovers—it full-on mimics them. The plot kicks off with a hunt for a dossier of secret agent identities known as the Janus Directory, which, let’s be real, is about as espionage-y and ridiculous as it sounds. But rather than shy away from that absurdity, the book embraces it. It knows exactly what kind of comic it is and leans all the way in. The story riffs on the well-worn dynamic between these two heroes and even toys with each of their respective origins in a way that feels a little dangerous yet still undeniably fun. There’s a major reveal at the core of the issue that threatens to upend an already controversial part of Spider-Man’s history, and while it flirts with being too clever for its own good, it ends up injecting just the right amount of tension to facilitate drama between the two.

What really saves the book from being a serviceable retread of crossover tropes, though, is the creative synergy between Guggenheim’s character writing and Andrews’ art. Guggenheim gives us a Spider-Man who’s light on his feet, quippy as ever, but still capable of turning on a dime into something more serious when the story demands it. His Wolverine is equally well-balanced—gruff and no-nonsense, but with just enough vulnerability to make their interactions pop. The banter between the two is sharp without feeling overly written, and there’s an emotional undercurrent that helps ground even the most out-there plot beats. The way in which this freshens things up is best scene in the big, bombastic villain swap that takes place in the middle of the issue. Its expected of this kind of story, but the character voices makes it way more exciting than it has any right being, especially when the villains of choice we’ve seen ago with these two in the past.

But let’s be honest—the real star here is Kaare Andrews. This book exists, first and foremost, as a canvas for him to draw cool stuff, and he draws the living hell out of it. His style is dynamic, kinetic, and unhinged. Every page looks like it’s about to leap off the paper, packed with energy and expression that most mainstream cape books would only dare to dream of. Sure, sometimes the panel flow gets a little chaotic, and clarity occasionally takes a hit in favor of pure aesthetic madness, but it feels like a worthy trade. When the art is this bold and this unique, you forgive a few stumbles in the overall panel pacing.