Spider-Man: Brand New Day is the most popular movie of all time. Some people think it slaps harder than The Odyssey (for the record, I need to rewatch each film before deciding). A positive focus of the film is the vulnerable and emotionally connective friendship between Spider-Man and the Punisher. I think their relationship is an awesome example of new masculinity.

In Brand New Day, the Punisher (Frank Castle), who is perfectly played by Jon Bernthal, becomes Spider-Man’s (Peter Parker), who is perfectly played by Tom Holland, unlikely confidant and life-saving friend (unlikely because, you know, Frank shoots Spidey with a grenade launcher early in the film). There is Marvel comic lore about these two characters – Sam Stone argues that “when the two vigilantes share a common goal, they temporarily set aside their differences to work together towards the greater good – even if they define that differently.”  Friendship is best realized by men, women, theys, and all of us who can learn from each other as we achieve the same goal(s).

Holland and Bernthal use their real-life friendship to showcase how protecting, emotionally connecting, and asking for help are features of new masculinity, which are things that will bring communities together towards the greater good.

Even heroes need help: Spider-Man’s new masculinity is strength with a group chat. Brave enough to protect, soft enough to connect. Let’s explore this spoiler-filled idea.

New masculinity

For me – and for thinkers like Brené Brown, Scott Galloway, Nick Offerman, and scholars of “caring masculinities” – modern masculinity looks and feels like caring for our communities, connecting with each other openly and vulnerably, and being humble enough to ask for help. New masculinity is not the rejection of strength. It is strength disciplined by care. It means being protective without becoming controlling, courageous without becoming isolated, and emotionally honest without treating vulnerability as weakness. Bossiness sucks (and makes folks do more to achieve less … because they’re scared). Psychological safety makes every team better, regardless of their goals.

The evidence matters here: research on traditional masculine norms shows that rigid self-reliance, emotional control, and lone-wolf stoicism are linked to poorer mental health outcomes. By contrast, positive masculinity emphasizes connection, motivation, authenticity, purpose, and interdependence. Brown gives us vulnerability as courage. Galloway points to young men’s need for purpose, belonging, and emotionally present role models. Offerman reminds us that tenderness and empathy are not contradictions of masculinity, but evidence of its growth.

In Brand New Day, Frank Castle serves as a cautionary tale against darkness, isolation, and lone-wolf masculinity, while Peter Parker is the unrealized potential of the light. His friendly neighbourhood includes colleagues (Frank and Dewolff), emerging best friends (Ned), and the love of his life (MJ). Any one of these connective forces enhance Spidey’s – and all of our – longevity.

Together, The Punisher and Spider-Man represent a beautiful friendship, which is, sadly, one of the scarcest things for men in 2026.

Here is how The Punisher and Spider-Man embody new masculinity.

They protect

There is great tension between Frank Castle’s preference for punishing bad guys and Peter Parker’s focus on protecting his community (it is, after all, what a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man does).  

Brand New Day offers multiple examples of protection being valued over punishment.

• Peter protects Frank from a fight that’s beyond the Punisher’s capabilities.
• Dewolff chides Spider-Man for punishing Scorpion and not protecting bystanders and officers caught up in the melee.
• Frank tries to protect Peter from the Hulk.
• Frank protects MJ.
• Peter protects Jean Grey.
• Frank protects Peter’s identity (hilariously).

New Yorkers showing up at the hospital with homemade Spider-Man signs turns protection into community reciprocity.  Scott Galloway believes that what makes a man is his ability, among other things, to protect those who are vulnerable: “the whole point of prosperity is to protect people.” Peter Parker is prosperous in personal powers, even if he might not be ready to provide for a family with what I can only assume are ethical passive-income-math-based-problem-solving-algorithms and Cameo content, and he shares these powers with his community.

They are open and vulnerable

One of the bravest things I’ve seen on screen is the Punisher helping Spider-Man fight the Hulk. One of the funniest things I’ve seen on screen is Jon Bernthal bringing teenage girl sass when his character is taken over by Sadie Sink’s Jean Grey.

Asking for help isn’t easy. Especially when culture and patriarchal systems reinforce how real men go it alone to solve problems, deliver justice, and win the day. According to HBR’s Heidi Grant, “…it’s virtually impossible to advance in modern organizations without assistance from others … Your performance, development, and career progression depend more than ever on your seeking out the advice, referrals, and resources you need. In fact, estimates suggest that as much as 75% to 90% of the help coworkers give one another is in response to direct appeals.” Even superheroes need help.

From being strangled and crushed by the Hulk to laying incapacitated in the hospital, Spider-Man inspired support and behavioural change with vulnerability. Frank goes to help his pal because Spider-Man is outmatched by the Hulk. Jean shifts to a more positive view of mankind because Peter lets her into his mind.

If superheroes need help, what’s that mean for the rest of us?

For the record, I could see Spidey leading a positive mental health campaign called “Even Heroes Need Help” because it underscores the importance of community in driving health outcomes.

They are emotionally connected

Ned and Spider-Man playing Lego together might very well be the most wholesome thing on screen in 2027. Frank and Spider-Man’s banter, ribbing, and “are-you-ever-gonna-let-Staten-Island-gooo-broooooo?!” pitter-patter-back-and-forth reminds me of the nonstop teasing, improvising, and collective humbling that is the background music on camping and cycling trips with my best friends. Banter was the doorway to an emotionally connected friendship between Frank and Peter, as it is with many male friends, according to science (vigilante-ism is literally a shared activity for these heroes).

By the end of the film, their bond becomes friendship, not just tactical alliance. What starts with professional courtesies and playful banter evolves into something more emotional, authentic, and serious for Peter Parker and Frank Castle. New masculinity, then, is protection without domination, toughness with tenderness, and brotherhood spacious enough for honesty, grief, humour, help, and love. And maybe fishing, hoops, and/or throwing stars.

Maybe waterslides also.