Spider-Man & Wolverine #3 – All Claws, No Brakes

With only two issues left in its first arc, Spider-Man & Wolverine #3 leaves no room for readers to breathe as it launches harder into what it does best. Choked with endlessly creative yet viscerally ’90s art choices, this is a comic that feels at home with early Image Comics while skipping over every major pitfall those books tripped into. Perfectly paced and written with inspiration, this issue continues to prove itself a bombastic blockbuster that only falters in the depth department.

Starting with the core of this issue’s appeal, Kaare Andrews continues to blow me away with his page layouts and attention to detail. He renders our heroes as nothing more than ants within a land dominated by reptilian gods, utilizing the potential of the Savage Land setting to really emphasize just how backed into a corner Peter and Logan are—the tension between them almost as palpable as the danger that waits around every corner.

In the few moments of quiet character writing we get in this issue, Kaare uses the environment to focus in on these two heroes, their past traumas, and the trust of a long-time friendship tested by their darkest pains. It is not only brilliant but showcases Andrews as an artist who can—and does—do so much more than just meat and muscles. The best writing of the issue also happens to be in those moments; Guggenheim’s scripting serves more as a guide for Andrews on where and how to pace out a story that’s focused on the thrill of our characters escaping an impossible hunt.

While it never gets anywhere truly deep with its suggested themes, Guggenheim proves himself a capable Wolverine scribe with his voice for the character. The weighted—yet not downright emo—delivery from Logan on the subject of his past and his attempts to reconcile with Peter, blinded by rage, comes from multiple places that are all quintessentially Wolverine. His emotional guilt, born from a place of wanting companionship but fearing full honesty, leads him to try and reconcile with half-truths, pushing the blame for his violent past onto spells of memory dysphoria rather than his own violent tendencies. He’s a hero—he’s got heart and maturity—but still finds himself led by his wish to avoid the pain that comes with emotional complexity.