How Gwen Stacy Broke My Heart and Put It Back Together Again

Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse has premiered in theatres. Between smashing box office expectations and re-introducing the world to British punk anarchism, the movie has given fans one thing I never expected—Gwen Stacy is trans.

Hear me out.

Across the Spider-Verse dramatically increases the scale of Sony’s animated edition of the Spider-Man canon, introducing us to a myriad of Spider-People and showcasing many of the worlds connected by a cosmic web in the multiverse. Amongst them, the movie spends much more time with Hailee Stienfeld’s Gwen Stacy: the one and only Spider-Woman from her universe, having been bitten by a radioactive spider and losing her best friend, Peter Parker, in a tragic accident. One thing the movie cannot seem to help to do is drape Gwen and her world in the colours of the pride flag.

Unlike Miles Morales’s crisply drawn and animated Earth-1610, Gwen’s Earth-65 is one of pastel shades and watercolours. The backgrounds of her world are literally dripping with colour that responds to the moods and actions of the people in each scene. The movie opens with a long monologue that re-establishes Gwen’s backstory, but not as an epic splash of comic book action. We see her trauma, her loss, and her loneliness as she walks through a dreary, rainy New York City. This is a Gwen who is desperate for connection, but unable to hold onto anything she finds—be it her band, Miles, or her father.

From the off, Gwen’s story is one that resonates with trans audiences. She hides a part of herself from the people she loves, for fear of rejection and shame. The world she lives in paints her as a violent criminal who can’t be trusted, for reasons that were utterly out of her control. Even her own father, Captain Geroge Stacy (voiced by Shea Wigham), is on the hunt to apprehend the elusive Spider-Woman. I don’t know a single trans woman who doesn’t have a story of the masks we used to wear to protect ourselves.

But so far this is fairly standard superhero storytelling. The hero who hides their face, and can’t even tell the people they love? We’ve all seen that, and it’s not trans allegory on its own. But Across the Spider-Verse goes so much further than this. Through deliberate, beautiful and heart-wrenching visual design, the movie paints a picture of a Gwen Stacy that is, to my mind, undeniably a trans girl.

The first hints we get of this unspoken aspect of her character, is a look inside her bedroom. Gwen’s loneliness and isolation are reflected in the world, and this space that should be hers in dimly lit and devoid of depth or definition. The only splash of colour we see in this scene, is a sign above her door—a trans pride flag with the words “Protect Trans Kids,” written on it.

The opening of this movie lays out its plans quite plainly. This is not just Miles’s story anymore. Into the Spider-Verse introduced us to this version of Gwen, but she wasn’t front and centre of that movie and was there to act as a foil and motivator for Miles. The sequel is just as much Gwen’s story as it is Miles’s, and her arc through the narrative is one of acceptance—of herself, her place in society, and wanting acceptance from her father. This is where, in the opening act of the movie, my heart broke for Gwen.

Like most Spider-People, Gwen has not told her family about her double life. Geroge Stacy is a captain of the NYPD and is leading an investigation into the apparent murder of Peter Parker, at the hands of Spider-Woman. When we see Gwen and her dad at home, the tension between them is palpable. George Stacy knows that Gwen is hiding something, and is clearly hurting when Gwen withdraws from him. The colour palette here also shows how much Gwen cares for her dad, George Stacy is bathed in colour, in stark contrast to how we see Gwen.

There’s a small shot here that shows, for the eagle-eyed viewer, just how caring Captain Stacy is as a father—another trans pride flag, this time sewed into the sleeve of his jacket, just above his badge.

The climax of this first act arrives when, after fighting a clockwork vulture from another universe, Gwen is cornered by Captain Stacy. With no webs, no way to escape, and a gun pointed at her, Gwen makes the hardest choice of her life. She pulls off her mask and begs her father to see her. For a moment George Stacy lowers his gun, agonised by what he’s just learnt, torn between being a father and being a cop. But being a cop wins, he points the gun back at Gwen and tells her she’s under arrest. His own daughter.

I couldn’t help but imagine how this scene had played out before when Gwen had come out—not as Spider-Woman, but as a trans girl—and her dad had seen her true self for the first time. That the man who had accepted her as his daughter, with love and compassion, was now not only rejecting her but doing so violently—as happens all too often in the real world—was devastating.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Gwen says, and she is offered a way out by Miguel O’Hara.

The movie at this point gives way to the A-plot, Miles is brought into the wider Spider-Verse, and we learn about how the Spider society works. In particular, there are Canon Events that take place in every universe with a Spider-Man, a sacrifice that must be borne by those bit by radioactive spiders. We get a glimpse here of why Gwen is so hesitant to go home. Not only does she fear the rejection of her father, but also that she won’t be able to save him when her Canon Event finally arrives.

Gwen’s narrative here, and the trans allegory with it, largely takes a backseat through the middle half of the movie. But as the A-plot progresses, in a much slower, more methodical way than Into the Spider-Verse’s rollercoaster pacing, Gwen is slowly pulled out of her shell and put back on the path to being the hero she is destined to be. When Miles is hunted by Miguel O’Hara and the rest of the Spider-People, Gwen sneaks off with the help of Spider-Punk, setting out to build a team and save Miles. But not before an emotional reunion with George Stacy.

Gwen sneaks back into her room and sees her father sleeping, a photo of her and Miles on the coffee table. She goes to leave, but George Stacy hears her. We catch a glimpse of something that might be a gun, but turns out to be a stuffed toy, and Gwen’s dad begs her to stay.

While it is true that this movie is dealing with allegory and coding and subtext, it is also true that all of those things are as blatant as a comedy mallet to the face. When Gwen pours out her soul to George Stacy, the watercolour world of Earth-65 is bathed in blue and pink and white.

Gwen bares herself fully in this scene. “This mask is my badge, and I’m trying to be good too!” She is once again begging her father to see her, all of her, for who she truly is. Only this time she is not lost in dark, muted isolation—she is vibrant and alive, and so is the world around her.

When George Stacy proudly announces that he will quit the force, Gwen realises that not only has she been seen and accepted on her own terms, but she also knows that she’s saved her father from a fated death. They embrace, and the colour of the world washes away, leaving the scene a pure, serene, peaceful white.

Across the Spider-Verse was Gwen Stacy’s movie. It was a movie about a trans girl running away from a place she thought was safe, desperate for connection, and finding herself through the relationships she has with people. It’s a story of hard-won acceptance and defying expectations.

Does this movie spell out explicitly that Gwen is trans? No. But in my mind, it doesn’t need to. Everything about this movie is deliberate. From the art design of every world to the pacing and emotional core. These are choices made, often by large teams of people, and you don’t end up with these themes and these colour palettes by accident. This Gwen Stacy is trans, and she is perfect.