I'll never forget this night of Spider-Man at the Royal Albert Hall
Spider-Man: No Way Home in Concert exceeded every expectation I had and reminded me of something deeply personal and profound.
Walking into the Royal Albert Hall on November 14th ended 1,430 days of waiting as it was finally time to hear the original score for Spider-Man: No Way Home (NWH) performed live.
The first thing I saw was a sea of Spidey fans buzzing with the same excitement I’d been carrying for months.
The orchestra sitting proudly on stage pushed that excitement into something electric.
This was the world premiere of Spider-Man: No Way Home in Concert, the first time the film’s iconic score had ever been performed live with the movie.
The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra sat poised under the baton of conductor David Mahoney, ready to bring every cue, sting and emotional swell to life.
Projected onto a huge 4K screen, the film looked sharper and grander than ever, creating the perfect example of cinema where both audio and visuals were firing on all cylinders.
The NWH soundtrack isn’t just my favourite film score, it’s my favourite album of all time, so seeing it performed live instantly meant the world to me.
But before the film even began, a message from the film’s Oscar-winning composer, Michael Giacchino, set the tone for the night.
He said that he was “absolutely thrilled that audiences will now be able to experience No Way Home with a full orchestra, listening to talented musicians who make the black dots I write on paper come alive, and there is no better venue to have its premiere than the Royal Albert Hall.”
I couldn’t agree more.
As well as scoring films like Up, Ratatouille, and Inside Out, Michael Giacchino scored Tom Holland’s Spider-Man trilogy, crafting a bold, youthful, and emotionally rich identity for the character.
Hearing those themes played live made that legacy hit even harder. The closing segment of Arachnoverture, performed live, hit me with memories from every era of New York’s wallcrawler that had shaped my childhood across several media.
Spider-Man 3 was the first film I ever saw, The Amazing Spider-Man was my first IMAX experience, and I’ve seen NWH more than twenty times in cinemas.
My earliest memories in life are tied to this character, so hearing his musical legacy played by a full orchestra felt full-circle.
When Shield of Pain began, I felt a wave of emotion I was looking forward to all night as the stretch of music from Lizard’s cure throughout Peter 2’s conversation with Electro post-cure left me welling up.
James Horner’s theme blended seamlessly with Giacchino’s score. An incredible tribute to the late composer that feels as much of a baton-passing as the elder Spider-Men meeting Tom’s does.
As much as I love Zimmer’s bombastic score for The Amazing Spider-Man 2, Horner’s has this innate sincerity that, when heard on stage, made everyone in that hall silent.
Shield of Pain ties directly to my own life philosophy because it captures the idea that helping someone avoid your past mistakes can heal part of yourself, and somehow Giacchino communicates that without a single word.
Then there was the ending of Arachnoverture, which encapsulates twenty years of cinematic history so perfectly that it almost feels like this film was planned from the very beginning.
At times, it felt like the night was made for me, and the rest of the audience was just allowed to attend.
It’s triumphant, bittersweet and mythic, and brings closure to 20 years of Spider-Man on a big screen in a way that becomes unbelievable when you consider how, for years, it was a pipedream for fans that we never thought would come to fruition.
As much as I love the British, one thing I think Americans outdo us on is the big audience reactions for blockbuster films like the MCU.
However, that night, the Albert Hall erupted with cheers at every chance they could get. We were all so high on our “nerd-ism” that any sense of British politeness was gone.
Also, the new proudest achievement of my life now is that I managed to start the fan cheering not once but twice, during Peter 3’s conversation with Max and again when Peter 2 and 3 returned to their universes, accompanied by Forget Me Knots.
A really nice small moment I had was humming the soundtrack with the guy next to me, only to realise we both had the same wallpaper of the three Spider-Men pointing at each other after the concert.
It’s those tiny moments of shared passion for something that remind me that there are billions of people all around the world who love this character as much as me, and for one night, I was very privileged to both share and feel that love.
Seeing this film in concert didn’t change my view of NWH, but it added so much to what it already meant to me, and made even the premium formats like IMAX and Dolby seem like a disservice to see a film in.
It reminded me that music is the most powerful cultural force we have, because even without any formal education, it can evoke emotions that are difficult to articulate for yourself, let alone write about.
Peter Parker Picked a Perilously Precarious Profession stood out as the one moment where the RPO clearly felt free to play with the arrangement, taking bolder liberties because it’s the film’s final, frenetic burst of energy.
This night also wouldn’t have happened for me if not for LondonWorld contributor John Goldham, whose article was the reason I even knew this event existed, so John, if you’re reading this, godspeed!
Overall, this concert is the best, most cathartic experience I’ll ever attend in my lifetime, so if you’re a Spider-Man/Marvel fan, this is a pilgrimage well worth the cost and journey.
Even with Avengers: Doomsday on the horizon, we may never get a film like NWH again, but hearing its score performed live proved that its emotional legacy is going nowhere.
Therefore, to my wallet’s dismay, I’ll probably make the trek to see the concert again in Birmingham and Manchester when it tours the country next March.