Venom: Let There Be Carnage – Why Fans Are Still Obsessed and What Really Worked

Venom: Let There Be Carnage – Why Fans Are Still Obsessed and What Really Worked

Let's be real for a second. When Venom: Let There Be Carnage finally dropped in late 2021, the world was a messy place, and we basically just wanted to see a giant red CGI monster eat people. It delivered. People love to dunk on Sony's Spider-Man Universe (SSU), but there is something undeniably infectious about the chaotic energy Andy Serkis brought to the director's chair. It wasn't trying to be The Godfather. It was a 97-minute fever dream about a toxic breakup between an investigative reporter and a space parasite.

Honestly, the "Let There Be Carnage" subtitle felt like a promise. We’d waited decades to see Cletus Kasady done right after that weird wig cameo in the first movie’s post-credits scene. Woody Harrelson is perhaps the only person alive who can match Tom Hardy’s "mumbling-into-a-toaster" energy, and their chemistry—if you can call it that—is what keeps the movie from falling apart under the weight of its own absurdity.

It’s weird. It’s loud. It’s surprisingly short. But why are we still talking about it years later?

The Carnage of It All: Cletus Kasady Explained

Cletus Kasady is a nightmare. In the comics, specifically The Amazing Spider-Man #344, he was introduced as a literal serial killer who happens to bond with Venom's offspring. The movie leans hard into this, though it softens some of his more gruesome comic book edges to keep that PG-13 rating. Woody Harrelson plays him like a man who has already seen the end of the world and found it hilarious.

The transformation scene in the prison is the highlight. When the red symbiote first ripples out of his skin, it’s a distinct visual departure from Venom. Carnage is spindly. He has more tendrils. He’s basically a Swiss Army knife of sharp, bloody appendages. Fans of the Maximum Carnage arc from the 90s finally got to see that chaotic movement on a big screen, and while the fight scenes can get a bit "digital soup," the character design is arguably some of the best in modern superhero cinema.

Kasady’s relationship with Frances Barrison, aka Shriek (played by Naomie Harris), adds a layer of "Natural Born Killers" energy that you don't usually see in Marvel-adjacent projects. They are a match made in a very loud, very destructive heaven. Her sonic scream is a massive problem for symbiotes, creating a built-in tension between the two villains. They love each other, but her very existence hurts him. That’s a bit of nuance the movie actually handles quite well amidst all the shouting.

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Why the "Rom-Com" Dynamic Works

If you ask Tom Hardy, he’ll tell you these movies are romantic comedies. He isn't joking.

The core of Venom: Let There Be Carnage is the domestic dispute between Eddie Brock and Venom. They are miserable. They are living in a tiny apartment filled with chickens (Sonny and Cher, naturally) and chocolate wrappers. Venom wants to be a "Lethal Protector" and eat bad guys; Eddie just wants his life back and maybe a date with Anne (Michelle Williams).

The breakup scene—where Venom leaves Eddie's body and goes on a neon-soaked rave bender—is peak cinema for some and a bridge too far for others. But it works because it treats the symbiote as a person with feelings, not just a power set. This isn't a suit. It's a partner. When Venom gives a speech at a masquerade party about "coming out of the Eddie closet," the movie embraces its status as a queer-coded cult classic. It’s bold. It’s definitely not what Disney would do with the character, which is exactly why it has such a dedicated fanbase.

The Technical Side: Andy Serkis and the 90-Minute Run Time

Most superhero movies now are three hours long. They have "world-ending stakes" and twenty-five subplots. Venom: Let There Be Carnage clocks in at about 90 minutes without credits. It is lean. It is mean. It gets to the point.

Andy Serkis, the king of performance capture, was the perfect choice to direct this. He understands how to make a digital character feel like it has weight and soul. You can see it in the way Venom slumps when he's sad or the way Carnage’s many arms move independently to multitask during a jailbreak. Serkis pushed for more physical comedy, drawing inspiration from Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, which is why the kitchen fight scene feels so slapstick.

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The movie cost about $110 million to make, which is relatively modest for a tentpole blockbuster. It grossed over $500 million worldwide during a period when theaters were still struggling. That’s a massive win for Sony. It proved that audiences don't always need a Multiverse or a decade of homework to enjoy a comic book movie. Sometimes, they just want to see a red monster fight a black monster in a cathedral.

That Post-Credits Scene (The Elephant in the Room)

We have to talk about it. The moment Eddie and Venom are transported from their tropical hotel room to a universe where Tom Holland’s Spider-Man is on the news.

At the time, the theater screams were deafening. It was the "shot heard 'round the nerd world." It signaled that the SSU and the MCU were finally, officially, colliding. While Spider-Man: No Way Home eventually followed up on this—mostly for a comedic bit in a bar—the "Let There Be Carnage" stinger remains a pivotal moment in superhero movie history. It changed the expectations for what Sony could do with their stable of characters.

What Most People Get Wrong About the Sequel

A common criticism is that the movie is "too silly."

Critics often compare it to the gritty, self-serious tone of The Batman or even the high-stakes drama of Avengers: Infinity War. But that's a misunderstanding of what Venom is. In the comics, especially the 90s runs, Venom was frequently absurd. He was a guy who thought he was a hero but was actually a terrifying monster who made bad jokes. The movie captures that 90s "edgelord" aesthetic perfectly.

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Another misconception is that Carnage was "wasted." While he does die at the end (spoiler, but come on, it’s a sequel), his impact on Eddie and Venom's relationship is permanent. He forced them to realize they are better together than apart. Carnage wasn't the point of the movie; he was the catalyst for Eddie and Venom’s marriage counseling.

Real-World Impact and the Future of the Symbiote

Since the release of Venom: Let There Be Carnage, we've seen a shift in how Sony approaches their Marvel properties. They’ve leaned harder into the weirdness (for better or worse, looking at you Morbius and Madame Web). But Venom remains the gold standard of their solo outings.

The success of this film paved the way for Venom: The Last Dance. It solidified Tom Hardy as the definitive Eddie Brock, a man who looks like he hasn't slept since 2018 and is constantly arguing with his own shadow. It also proved that there is a massive market for mid-budget, high-concept genre films that don't take themselves too seriously.

Actionable Insights for Fans and Collectors

If you're looking to dive deeper into the world of Let There Be Carnage, there are a few things you should actually do rather than just re-watching the movie for the tenth time:

  • Read "Venom: Lethal Protector": This 1993 limited series is the primary inspiration for the movie's tone. It shows Venom moving to San Francisco and trying to be a hero, just like in the film.
  • Track down the Carnage Mind Bomb comic: If you thought Woody Harrelson was creepy, read this. It’s a deep dive into Cletus Kasady’s psyche that is far darker than anything allowed in a PG-13 movie.
  • Watch the "Making Of" featurettes: Seriously. Watching Andy Serkis act out the movements for both symbiotes is a masterclass in physical acting. It gives you a whole new appreciation for the CGI.
  • Check the 4K Blu-ray: The HDR on the final cathedral battle is a significant step up from the streaming versions. The contrast between the red and black symbiotes against the stained glass is actually beautiful.

The legacy of this film isn't just the box office numbers. It’s the fact that it dared to be a weird, loud, short, and strangely sweet movie about a man and his monster. It didn't try to save the universe; it just tried to save a friendship. In a world of bloated franchises, that's almost refreshing.