It all started with a lobster tank.
During a pivotal scene in Venom, investigative journalist Eddie Brock (played by Tom Hardy) freaks out as an alien parasite (also Hardy) takes up residence in his body—Eddie’s only recourse is to track down his ex, Anne (incredibly, Michelle Williams), while she’s on a lunch date with her new boyfriend. Still not sure of what’s happening inside him, Eddie instinctively (involuntarily?) grabs a lobster off a waiter’s tray, takes a huge chomp from it, and declares, “This is dead … dead!” After rummaging through several tables worth of (dead) food that’s not to his satisfaction, Eddie, completely drenched in sweat, jumps into the restaurant’s lobster tank like he’s at a high-end spa. Then the munchies come back, and he goes to town on a poor crustacean, grunting and snorting with the enthusiasm of a truffle pig. It’s the greatest thing I’ve ever seen:
This being one of the signature moments of Venom should tell you everything about the deranged masterpiece, especially because it wasn’t even planned. According to director Ruben Fleischer, Hardy saw the lobster tank—which was intended to be nothing more than set dressing—and decided he wanted to get his ass in there. The rest is history. “We had all real lobsters, but we had to get a bunch of plastic lobsters because you can’t put a human in a lobster tank with real lobsters,” Fleischer helpfully explained to Uproxx in 2018. “And so we had to, overnight, ship a ton of fake lobsters for when he got in the tank. But that’s the genius of Tom Hardy.”
Allowing Hardy to cook with such zeal is the genius of Venom, which will round out its trilogy when Venom: The Last Dance hits theaters on Friday. With each movie, you get the sense that Hardy has successfully fought for more creative control and kept anyone around who matched his freak. (Fleischer did not return for the sequels; clearly, he should’ve had the fake lobsters on standby.) To that end, Hardy leveled up with a “story by” credit on Venom: Let There Be Carnage and The Last Dance—and thank god for that. How else would we get a scene in which a five-time Academy Award nominee flirts with a symbiote hijacking the body of an elderly bodega owner?
Of course, Hardy couldn’t do it alone: The other creative architect in the franchise is Kelly Marcel, a screenwriter on all three films who’s making her feature directorial debut with The Last Dance. Prior to Venom, the most high-profile item on Marcel’s CV was penning the Fifty Shades of Grey adaptation, and however you feel about that movie, there’s some connective tissue between Christian Grey and Venom. Reader, I couldn’t be more serious. After all, both are doms entangled in a sadomasochistic relationship with a sub (Ana Steele; Eddie Brock) who’s new to the experience. (Ana gets whipped with a belt in the Red Room; Eddie is repeatedly called a “LOSER” by Venom.) If you think I’m reading too much into the Venom-Eddie dynamic, well, Sony did make a rom-com trailer for Venom’s digital release, and Let There Be Carnage features a rave scene where Venom boasts about being “OUT OF THE EDDIE CLOSET” after their breakup.
A sweaty man jumping in a lobster tank; an alien parasite inhabiting the body of a bodega owner; a rave where said alien lovingly calls the attendees “WEIRDOS … MY KIND OF PEOPLE”—these are iconic moments of 21st-century cinema, yes, but they’re not the usual hallmarks of a superhero movie. And Venom isn’t for everyone: The first film has a 30 percent on Rotten Tomatoes from critics, as well as a less-than-stellar B+ CinemaScore grade from audiences. (To quote CinemaScore founder Ed Mintz: “A’s generally are good, B’s generally are shaky, and C’s are terrible.”) But sometimes great art goes underappreciated in its time.
Amid the decade-plus reign of superheroes on the big screen, it’s easy to find fault in the films that play it safe—[gestures at the Marvel Cinematic Universe]—or do something that absolutely nobody asked for. (Looking at you, Joker: Folie à Deux.) Venom is certainly an acquired taste, but I honestly believe it’s been a breath of fresh air for a stale and oversaturated subgenre. There’s nothing else like Venom, which is perhaps why some folks have turned their noses up at its bizarre blend of body horror and comedy. But instead of wanting Venom to be something it isn’t, we should embrace the trilogy for what it is: A (super)antihero origin story with a B-movie sensibility that refuses to take itself seriously. In this franchise, action sequences are an afterthought to Eddie and Venom going full Laurel and (Tom) Hardy. All due respect to Noah Baumbach, but this is my Marriage Story.
For all the chaotic nonsense that Eddie and Venom get up to, an underlying sweetness also defines their relationship—two outcasts who constantly bicker but learn to care for one another. (There’s even a deleted scene from Let There Be Carnage wherein Venom tries to goad Eddie into admitting he loves him, which he absolutely does.) It’s hard to imagine that a love story between a man and an alien parasite is what Sony envisioned when the studio had Venom launch its Spider-Man extended universe, which is mostly an elaborate ploy to retain the rights to its extremely lucrative IP. Venom’s cinematic cousins, Madame Web and Morbius, are remembered for the memes they inspired more than anything that happened on-screen—movies made to satisfy a company’s bottom line, rather than for any genuine artistic intent. (Don’t get your hopes up for Kraven the Hunter.)
In another universe, Venom might’ve been resigned to a similar fate. The biggest issue with the first film is how nearly every supporting player feels like they’re going through the motions in a far less interesting project. (Jenny Slate and Riz Ahmed, please fire your agents.) But Hardy doesn’t know how to phone it in, let alone speak in a normal accent. His casting single-handedly saved Venom from mediocrity, transforming a half-baked Spider-Man spinoff into radical performance art in which a man argues with the alien voice inside his head and begs him to subsist on chickens and chocolate over human brains. What more could you want? I have never loved superhero movies the way I love Venom, and to paraphrase my symbiote king, I’m sure there are some weirdos out there who feel the same. (MY KIND OF PEOPLE.)
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. As the title implies, The Last Dance is shaping up to be the final outing for Eddie and Venom, who must contend with other symbiotes coming to Earth to hunt them down. Based on the trailers, all signs point to Eddie and Venom ultimately parting ways—to keep the person he loves safe, Venom might have to return to his home planet. (A tough beat for Venom since, in his own words, “ON MY PLANET, I AM KIND OF A LOSER.”) I’m only half-joking when I say there’s a chance I’ll be overcome with emotion when Eddie and Venom bid farewell, knowing that Venom will (probably) fulfill his destiny as our planet’s lethal protector by leaving it behind.
Whatever happens, it’s been an unexpected journey for an unexpected hero. Back in the fall of 2018, Venom’s release coincided with Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga’s reimagining of A Star Is Born, which may or may not have become a collective obsession for everyone working at The Ringer. (One could say we fell off the deep end.) A Star Is Born did meet the hype, but Venom won the box office as well as the hearts and minds of anyone (read: me) who thinks this is peak comedy:
Six years later, the Venom trilogy remains a rare bright spot among modern superhero blockbusters. It’s what these kinds of movies should strive to be: goofy, eccentric, sentimental, original, sadomasochistic (kidding, sort of). To my fellow Venom-heads, stay strong and remember the good times. Don’t cry because Venom is over. Smile because Tom Hardy jumping in a lobster tank happened.