If cinematic disappointments had a hall of fame, Venom: The Last Dance would not only be inducted on the first ballot but would likely be the institution’s president. This supposed final chapter for Eddie Brock and Venom is more than just bad; it’s an egregious waste of time and a cinematic insult to anyone who dares to watch it. To simply label it as a “bad movie” would be an act of unwarranted generosity. What audiences are subjected to is an incomprehensible, murky, and utterly spiritless mess that somehow manages to sink below even the most pessimistic expectations.
The initial concept of Eddie and Venom becoming fugitives in a “on the run” scenario held a glimmer of potential for thrilling action and suspense. Regrettably, this promise is utterly squandered, delivering instead a chaotic and ineptly written ordeal of fragmented scenes and plot inconsistencies so vast they could swallow galaxies, let alone the Marvel universe. The narrative progression, generously termed as such, stumbles forward with the elegance of someone navigating pitch darkness after excessive drinks. Logic and coherence are absent; events unfold without purpose or reason. It feels as though the writers haphazardly assembled every underdeveloped idea they could conjure, naively hoping that viewers wouldn’t notice the profound lack of sense in the resulting concoction.
The film attempts to manufacture emotional depth around a supposed “devastating decision” facing Eddie and Venom. However, this pivotal moment feels less like a natural culmination of their established journey and more like a manipulative, shallow tactic to provoke audience emotions. This attempt, however, collapses spectacularly because by the time this supposed emotional climax arrives, the audience is likely to be utterly drained and apathetic after enduring an excruciating 90 minutes of sheer cinematic drivel.
Eddie Brock, once envisioned as a multifaceted and conflicted anti-hero deeply rooted in the comic source material, is diminished to a pathetic caricature of his former self. Tom Hardy portrays him as a mumbling and fumbling shadow, projecting an overwhelming sense that he, too, wishes to simply be done with the project.
The supporting characters fare even worse, reaching new depths of cinematic uselessness, if such a thing is quantifiable. It defies comprehension how anyone could deem it a sound creative decision to populate the film with cardboard cutout side characters that viewers neither recognize nor care about. These characters serve absolutely no narrative function other than to occupy screen time and serve as constant, painful reminders that actual human beings put this nonsensical script to paper.
Of course, a Venom movie traditionally implies extravagant, CGI-driven battles, right? Yet, disappointingly, even this base expectation is unmet. The action sequences are so shoddily executed and brief—presumably a cost-saving measure—that even viewers who came solely for undemanding entertainment will likely depart feeling cheated. The visual effects are an agonizing blur of murky, indistinguishable forms colliding in the dark, utterly devoid of any sense of suspense or imaginative flair.
The climactic battle is presented as an unintelligible whirlwind of chaos, seemingly intended to distract from the stark reality that nothing of consequence is actually occurring. It’s neither thrilling nor entertaining; it is simply visually unpleasant and narratively vacant.
At its core, Venom: The Last Dance desperately tries to market itself as a poignant, emotionally resonant farewell to the symbiotic partnership of Eddie and Venom. It fails spectacularly. Any aspiration towards emotional resonance is instantly submerged by the film’s clumsy pacing and a profound absence of meaningful character evolution. The aforementioned “devastating decision” feels unearned, artificially constructed, and utterly devoid of conviction. There is no sense of resolution, no gratifying payoff—only a hollow, empty conclusion that leaves you questioning the choices that led you to waste your precious time watching it in the first place.
Steer clear of this movie as if it were the symbiote plague itself. Eddie and Venom, and more importantly, the audience, deserved considerably better than this cinematic catastrophe.
Further compounding the film’s failures are alleged behind-the-scenes issues. Rumors suggest that Tom Hardy’s influence, coupled with potential nepotism in promoting a director with whom he has close ties, resulted in a script and direction that fundamentally undermined the franchise. Both Hardy and the director are credited as the sole writers, raising eyebrows among those familiar with typical blockbuster production processes.
It’s whispered that Hardy was a significant force in injecting the first Venom movie with its now-signature comedic tone, allegedly engaging in heated disputes with original director Ruben Fleischer. These clashes were reportedly so intense that filming was temporarily suspended. Intriguingly, the director of Venom: The Last Dance was also one of the three credited writers on the first film.
Insiders suggest that this director leveraged a close relationship to heavily influence plot elements and impose a more comedic tone onto the first Venom, overriding initial plans and leading to reshoots that some believe contributed to a disjointed final product. Ruben Fleischer himself has reportedly expressed regret over these tonal shifts. The narrative paints a picture where control over the leading star enabled significant creative hijacking.
Analyzing the trailers for the first Venom movie reveals a stark contrast in tone. Early promotional material emphasized horror and science fiction elements, which were subsequently minimized in favor of the gag-heavy, quip-laden approach that defined the released film. This behind-the-scenes turmoil and creative clashes may offer further insight into why Venom: The Last Dance ultimately collapses under the weight of its own misguided ambitions, delivering a final dance that is more of a stumble into cinematic oblivion.
