How Morbius Sucking Impacts Sony’s Sinister Six

Morbius has happened now. It has commenced. It seems to more-or-less fit the legal definition of a movie, and even the basic structure. We all thought it was a fake movie because of its marketing, but it’s real (again, by the strictest legal definition). Where Sony’s Venom films reflect an early-2000s superhero sensibility—leaning into the wackiness with Tom Hardy spending two hours every couple of years arguing with a CGI alien version of himself—Morbius has some of that same vibe, but self-seriously. This might not be a problem on its own if the film didn’t crumble in our hands like a comic book kept in a basement, damaged in a flood and left in the backyard to be destroyed by the ravages of nature. Morbius represents Sony’s ongoing attempt to make a shared film universe with Spider-Man side characters, an edgy exercise in waste and futility that’s greatest merit is that it is artistically distinct from the MCU.
Because of the complicated corporate rights around Spider-Man, Sony gets to make movies with the character and his rogues gallery. Besides the Disney collaborations which see Tom Holland’s Spider-Man swing through the Marvel Cinematic Universe, these include the universe-jumping cartoon Into the Spider-Verse—which is quite possibly the best superhero film ever made—and its upcoming sequel Across the Spider-Verse (Part One). Separate from both is the recent push to turn a group of Spider-Man villains (where a group of crows is a “murder,” a group of six Spider-Man villains is a “Sinister Six”) into antiheroes. This works well with Venom; sweaty ‘90s edgelord villain that he was, he’s an icon that people are interested in. You could conceivably bring in a character like Kraven the Hunter or Vulture (more on him in a minute) because they’ve got name recognition brought about through some combination of comics, cartoons and games for people to be interested. You can also include Morbius, who I mostly know as a Blade villain that showed up in the ‘90s Spider-Man cartoon for a crossover episode but who, by all accounts, nobody cares about.
As of right now, I have no reason to believe Morbius has fans. Morbius is so unimportant that he doesn’t have a brigade of people supporting the movie just because he’s in it, which almost always happens in the world of corporate fandom. It appears to be the rare instance where the disparate impulses of critical Film Twitter, MCU stan Twitter and DCEU stan Twitter have coalesced to celebrate a failure. Morbius might not have been a great choice for a solo movie based around name recognition, he’s surely a fine choice based on premise. “Mad scientist fighting a terminal disease becomes a vampire” is engaging enough. It’s all about execution, and the execution failed.
While you can read the specifics of Morbius’s failures in Paste’s review, I’m more interested in how this critical panning bodes for Sony’s Spider-Man-adjacent universe. The film has two credit scenes explaining that Michael Keaton’s Vulture (the villain of Spider-Man: Homecoming) arrived in this world from the MCU through the realities-spanning central event of the Spider-Man: No Way Home plot. He appears to ask Morbius to start a team with some other guys, to “do some good.” It is unclear from this film, the Venom movies and Spider-Man: Homecoming what shared interest or goals these characters might have, but that will likely be explored in the team-up movie…if it happens.
This would-be team-up isn’t helped by the fact that Morbius and the character’s future hangs on the performance of self-proclaimed cult leader and alleged sex pest Jared Leto, who won an Oscar for portraying a transgender woman in Dallas Buyers Club and most recently pulled off the rare “Is this racist against Italians?” performance in House of Gucci. The Method acting devotee (“a particularly American disease,” in the words of Brian Cox) gifted Margot Robbie a live rat on the set of Suicide Squad, and now he’s starred in what might be the worst Marvel movie of the 21st century, which feels really specific until you realize there are more than 30 between no less than four studios. Would you believe that Leto’s acting style also caused problems for the production itself? Of course you would.