Sony's Spider-Man Villain Spin-Off Universe (or as Sony likes to call it, "Sony's Spider-Man Universe") has been a disaster, a series of barely-to-not-at-all-watchable films that tried to bring several potential Spidey foes into the fold. Although the Venom films did surprisingly well at the box office thanks to their well-established titular anti-hero, the other two entries in the series — 2022's Morbius and this year's Madame Web — were unequivocal bombs, which were butchered both critically and online by super-saturated commenters out for blood.
Enter Kraven the Hunter, the sixth entry, and yet again, Sony has presented the masses with a middling, mildly entertaining but poorly executed feature that will surely sound the death knell for this mercifully short-lived series. (Sony has reportedly cancelled the whole damn affair this week, days before Kraven's official release.)
Kraven tells the story of Sergei Kravinoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), the eldest son and heir apparent of a brutal, overbearing criminal father, Nikolai Kravinoff (Russell Crowe), and his felonious empire. Following the death of Sergei's mother, Nikolai takes Sergei and his half-brother, Dmitri (Fred Hechinger), on safari to hunt big game. After being attacked by a lion, Sergei is saved by Calypso (played as an adult by Ariana DeBose), a young woman who possesses her grandmother's mystical powers and has been entrusted with a life-saving potion that she eventually uses to help Sergei, inadvertently turning him into "The Hunter." It's a ridiculous origin story, but no more than that of your average radioactive spider bite.
Flash forward: Sergei, now an adult and going by the name Kraven ("with a 'K,'" as he so aptly puts it), "works" as a "big game" hunter of sorts, whose prey consists of bad men who must pay. He's a vigilante, but he's not rudderless, even if he is brutal in his approach — he's the apex predator, after all. When Dmitri falls into the hands of the Rhino (Alessandro Nivola), his father's rival, Kraven must stab and bite his way through waves of enemies — and familial obligations — in order to save his brother.
What most people will notice upon first (and only) viewing is just how bad the whole film looks and sounds. Even though the dialogue is often atrocious, it's the truly awful ADR that shows how little care went into the post-production. It seems as though the filmmakers, editors and the studio itself were all sick of this movie and just wanted to get it off their plate, bad synchronizations be damned.
Much of the CGI runs the gamut from laughable to abysmal, particularly the animals. When the Rhino turns into the beast we know he'll eventually become, the transformation simply doesn't deliver because he looks terrible — all choppy imagery and awkward design. It's just plain ugly, even though this monstrosity cost well over $100 million.
Taylor-Johnson portrays the supervillain with his usual charming, brooding, chiselled self that's certainly wittier than other Marvel anti-heroes. He definitely doesn't take himself as seriously as Jared Leto's Morbius, which is very welcomed.
Aside from Taylor-Johnson, the performances vary throughout. Some thrive (Crowe, Hechinger), while others are left severely under-utilized (DeBose, as well as Christopher Abbott, who plays a villain named the Foreigner, and whose purpose and presence in the film are less than superfluous).
Rich, juicy and utilitarian, Ben Davis's cinematography creates lush and expansive landscapes and settings, particularly those in Siberia. In particular, Kraven's first human kill is well-composed, framed as a beautiful and violent silhouette, understated yet brutal.
Kraven's not a particularly good movie to say the least — it's downright bad — but it's also big, dumb and fun. From the outset, it's apparent that this film will, for the most part, take itself seriously, even if most viewers won't, and this contrast comes off as a strength, not a hindrance. But while a ludicrous B-movie energy imbues the film (intentionally or not), all the absurd violence, cheesy dialogue and outrageous set-pieces never quite reach the campy heights of Spider-Man 3, nor the audacity of the Venom films.
Kraven is supposed to be a beast, and the film should reflect that: make it bigger, bolder, brasher, more animalistic, more unhinged. As it is, Kraven's not weird enough to be cult, not grounded enough to be serious, and not cinematic enough to be much of anything.
The glacial pacing and sequencing forms one of the film's biggest setbacks, which often feels unstructured and confused, as if scenes were placed in random places just to fill in space. The film takes forever to get into the main story, the origin dragging on for much longer than it needs to. Future superhero screenwriters, here's a nickel's worth of free advice: in medias res!
Often unintentionally, the film finds some humour, especially during some of the more melodramatic, dialogue-forward scenes. Crowe delivers the film's most intentionally hilarious line while watching Dmitri perform at his own club (one that his father most certainly bought for him), telling a would-be gangster, "I don't trust anyone who doesn't like Tony Bennett."
The direction, courtesy of J.C. Chandor, lacks the pretension of other "auteur"-led superhero films, and the action Chandor musters renders is meaty and brutal, even if the bloodletting borders on overkill slapstick. Chandor, who has directed a string of critically acclaimed existential character studies that focus on isolation, masculinity and humanity's relationship to nature, brings a certain level of prestige to the proceedings, even if it's mostly in name.
With an established and respected filmmaker at the helm, Kraven tries to paint a deeper, more nuanced portrait of its protagonist, a character study that antagonizes the effects of toxic masculinity and patriarchal domineering, and the generational trauma inflicted therein. A major theme revolves around the subversion of weakness and the subjugation of animals and smaller men as a way to feel "manly." The word "weak" is uttered about three dozen times.
While these attempts at subversion feel timely, it's a shame the script (penned by Richard Wenk, Art Marcum and Matt Holloway) stands so weak, riddled with clichés, poor plotting and bad dialogue. It suffers from a distinct lack of tension and peril throughout, even during some of the most "harrowing" sequences. Chandor's ability, though, to draw decent, even nuanced performances from actors stuck in such an abysmal screenplay serves as a testament to his directing abilities.
While Kraven certainly isn't trying to reinvent the superhero genre (we had Nolan — that's more than enough), many of its more fantastical, super-powered elements are baffling. Even more so, Kraven's abilities manifest all over the place, adapting at will to suit the needs of the plot: Wait, he can talk to and control animals? Can he heal? Does he have superhuman strength? That was a pretty wild jump right there! Is he able to swallow the blood of his enemies without getting sick?
Kraven's most awkward elements also happen to be the ones undoubtedly meant to set it apart. The film examines man's contempt for the natural world through poaching, as well as Kraven's self-imposed isolation, and while its conservationist, eco- and animal-friendly politics are admirable, if not a little trite, it's always ironic when a film of this size, with this much exposure and costs, presents its audience with eco concerns, given the production surely emitted more than its fair share of carbon.
The film also includes a thin geopolitical element that never gets off the ground, which isn't explored in any depth, save for a few scenes that hint at some deeper criticism of the rampant and inherent ruthlessness of business, finance and globalization. The Rhino's clearly into data mining and, at one point, he even stands in front of a wall of out-of-focus stock-ticker screens. The real villain is always capitalism.
Kraven all ends up being a bit too much, underserving all of its many themes and feeling superficial and undercooked, care of a combination of wasted talent, bland, derivative writing, lazy characterization, and an overall lack of care or attention to detail. Refusing to lean into the humour or drama (or anything really), Kraven is surprisingly restricted — caged, even.
And so ends Sony's Spider-Man Villain Spin-Off Universe. Not with a bang, but with the whimper of a tired, injured animal.