The Venom franchise has never shied away from the monstrous, but with Venom 4: King in Black, the symbiote saga fully embraces cosmic horror on an earth-shattering scale. Tom Hardy returns as Eddie Brock, now a battle-hardened host teetering on the edge of identity and madness. But this time, the stakes are not just personal — they’re apocalyptic. And with the arrival of Tom Holland’s Spider-Man, the line between hero, anti-hero, and pure chaos is obliterated.

From the opening frames, King in Black sets a mood that is darker and more mythic than any Venom film before it. The sky over New York is fractured by a massive obsidian rift — and through it comes Knull, the god of the symbiotes. His entrance is silent, spectral, and terrifying. Played by a still-secret actor with menacing restraint, Knull doesn’t rant or roar — he whispers, and worlds tremble.

Eddie Brock, haunted by visions of the Codex — the collective symbiote memory — is once again a man fractured. Hardy delivers a layered performance that blends exhaustion, fear, and reluctant bravery. He’s no longer just bonded to Venom — they’re fused, mind and spirit, in ways that make them as vulnerable as they are dangerous. And with the Codex infecting his dreams and memories, Eddie is being called to become something more… or something far worse.

Enter Peter Parker. Holland’s Spider-Man doesn’t arrive with wisecracks and youth — he arrives with desperation. We learn he’s been tracking the spread of Knull’s influence through dark corners of the multiverse, and the tension between him and Eddie is instant. This isn’t a team-up — it’s a truce. Their banter is brittle, their chemistry electric. One is guilt-ridden hope. The other is rage barely restrained.

The action is thunderous and terrifying. Symbiote dragons soar across the Manhattan skyline. Buildings are consumed by writhing black tendrils. Civilian rescue missions become horror set pieces. Director Andy Serkis leans fully into horror-fantasy visuals, crafting sequences that feel pulled from nightmares — alleyways where shadows hiss, churches where light no longer enters, and final battles that turn entire boroughs into battlegrounds of flesh and shadow.

But beneath the spectacle is soul. Venom 4 digs deep into Eddie’s psyche, using the Codex not just as a plot device, but as a mirror. He relives moments of failure, betrayal, and loss — and Venom, his only constant companion, is no longer just a monster. He’s a memory, a mirror, and possibly a martyr. The internal dialogues between Eddie and Venom are some of the film’s most affecting scenes — raw, sardonic, and surprisingly intimate.

The relationship between Spider-Man and Venom evolves from disdain to reluctant respect. Both men are haunted by their pasts, defined by their failures, and united by the weight of what they carry. Their final battle alongside one another — against Knull and a swarm of corrupted heroes and civilians — is as much emotional release as it is visual climax.

The score by Benjamin Wallfisch is thunderous and ethereal, mixing industrial percussion with eerie choral chants that echo Knull’s ancient origin. It’s not music — it’s prophecy. Each track feels pulled from some forgotten cathedral built by monsters.

The film ends on a note that’s more elegy than victory. Yes, the darkness is pushed back — but the cost is high, and the shadows never really leave. Eddie walks away changed, and Spider-Man disappears into the mist with a message: “It’s not over. He’s only sleeping.”