Just finished Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man on Disney+, and holy web-fluid, folks, this thing slaps. The first episode pulled me in with Doctor Strange (because, yes, I cosplay him—NERD ALERT), but from there? Hooked. Line. Sinker. Full symbiote takeover.

Now, listen. I’m old. Like, "I read comics my dad handed down from the ‘60s" old. Like, "I remember when Spider-Man’s biggest problem was rent, not multiversal madness" old. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from a lifetime of capes and cowls, it’s that comic book stories are about change. Writers retcon, reboot, and reimagine like they're running from a deadline and a loan shark at the same time. Characters get rewritten, erased, resurrected, depowered, overpowered—whatever fits the moment. And you know what? That’s fine. That’s good. That’s how comics work.

Which brings me to this show.

This show is the Ultimate (heh) example of shaking up the Spider-Man formula. It’s not just another rinse-and-repeat of Peter Parker, teen angst, redhead obsession, and Uncle Ben trauma. This is something fresh. A remix. A new version that still feels like Spider-Man, but also feels alive, surprising, like cracking open an alternate universe and seeing what spills out.

And let me tell you: I am here for it.

The absence of some of the usual Spider-Tropes (cough cough Uncle Ben) makes room for surprises. For characters to say things we know—but twist them in ways that hit even harder. There’s a moment (NO SPOILERS, don’t worry) where a classic Spidey line gets turned on its head, and I had to pause and slow clap because damn. That’s how you take an old recipe and cook up something new.

Peter’s love interest? Not Mary Jane. Not Gwen. Nope—he’s mooning over a Filipina bombshell, which not only feels like a great shake-up, but also leaves MJ’s introduction as an open question. Maybe she’ll show up. Maybe she won’t. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Because the show isn’t about what we expect—it’s about what’s possible.

And the world? The world is modern Spidey done right. We’re getting nods to the MCU’s Battle of New York, deep pulls like W.E.B. from the Disneyland ride (yes, the theme park ride, and somehow it works?!), and an organic, diverse cast that feels like the world we live in, not like some forced checkbox quota. Yeah, I know the usual "anti-woke" crowd will whine about it because that’s literally their job, but nothing here feels performative. It’s just real.

Yes, it’s a cartoon. But it doesn’t feel like a kids' show. It’s smart. It’s sharp. It plays with legacy while forging its own path. And that, my dear readers, is the mark of a damn good Spider-Man story.

So yeah. Watch this show. You might think you know Spider-Man, but trust me—you don’t know this one. And that’s exactly what makes it great.