Tom Rothman: No Spider-Man Spin-Offs in Development at Sony

Tom Rothman: No Spider-Man Spin-Offs in Development at Sony

I remember watching Tom Rothman speak and feeling the room shift—an executive pruning a branch of a franchise that once looked endless. The line was simple: audiences voted with their feet. You can feel that loss like a light going out in a theater.

I’m going to walk you through what that statement means for Sony, for Marvel-adjacent storytelling, and for anyone still hoping Morbius would rise on a comeback tour. You and I both want to know whether those characters have any future on the big screen or if the era is quietly closing.

Audiences stopped showing up to the Spider-Man spin-offs

People voted with ticket sales and reaction threads—plain and simple.

Tom Rothman told Variety that, right now, Sony has no Spider-Man Universe films in development. He was blunt: the audience “didn’t respond.” That line carries weight because Rothman runs Sony Pictures Entertainment Motion Picture Group and he’s the person deciding which bets get placed. You can treat that as corporate realism or as a cold wake-up call; either way, it changes the conversation.

Will there be more Spider-Man spin-off movies?

If you’re asking whether Sony will greenlight more films set in that extended corner of the Marvel catalog, Rothman’s answer was essentially: not at the moment. He framed the effort not as a branded shared universe but as a search for “worthwhile movies.” For now, none are active.

Critics and fans flagged a mismatch between promise and execution

People compared what Sony tried to what fans wanted and the gap widened with every misfire.

Look at the list: Morbius, Madame Web, Kraven the Hunter. Each title arrived with a claim to interest and left many viewers puzzled. That’s not just box-office math—it’s a brand problem. You don’t need me to tell you which films succeeded: Sam Raimi’s original trilogy and Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse show how strong Spider-related storytelling can be when it’s guided by vision and craft. By contrast, some of Sony’s recent efforts felt like a carnival ride that stalled mid-loop.

Is Sony planning to reboot the Spider-Man Universe?

Rothman hinted at the possibility of retooling, saying they could reboot with new talent, but he didn’t commit. That’s the corporate equivalent of leaving the door cracked—you’re still waiting to see if someone walks through it. Sony has the rights to a roster of characters and to digital tools, production partners, and talent relationships—but rights alone won’t sway audiences who’ve been disappointed.

Executives are rethinking risk and brand trust

Studio chiefs are measuring each new idea against what audiences still care about.

If you run a studio, you can buy scripts and hire directors, but you cannot buy back lost trust. Rothman’s language—“the audience is the boss”—is both an admission and a strategy pivot. Sony may pause and rebuild confidence, or they may try smaller, smarter projects to test the water. Either path requires a shift from spectacle-first pitches to story-first commitments, and that costs attention and time.

What does this mean for characters like Venom, Morbius, and Madame Web? The characters remain interesting on the page, and the rights are still valuable. But interest on paper is not the same as interest in the theater. The studio might wait for the right creative team, or they might sell some ideas to streaming platforms, or let them sit until a clearer audience hunger appears. You should expect a cautious approach, not a flood of sequels.

There’s also a reputational gap to close. Sony has had hits—Raimi’s films and Into the Spider-Verse prove the brand can deliver—but a few misfires created noise that drowned out the better work. Fixing that noise is the immediate task.

For filmmakers and fans this is a fork: either the characters get reimagined with humility and craft, or they become relics of a failed experiment. Right now, the safer bet is that Sony will pick projects that feel unavoidable in terms of quality and audience demand before moving forward.

The studio landscape has changed: streaming platforms, talent deals, and franchise fatigue all shape decisions. Names that matter in this drama include Rothman, Matt Belloni (who prompted earlier remarks), and outlets like Variety and Kotaku that amplify every hint of a reboot. You should also watch directors and writers who can pair commercial sense with a clear voice—the ones who can make a risky property feel necessary again.

Think of Sony’s slate now as a house of cards: one confident hit could stabilize it, but another loud failure risks toppling the whole stack.

Why did Morbius and Madame Web fail to connect?

The short answer is misaligned expectations. Fans expect either bold reinvention or faithful vision; they don’t reward muddled middle-ground experiments. Poor critical reception, marketing that confused more than enticed, and a cultural moment that favors distinct voices over franchise obligations all played parts. The takeaway for creators: clarity of purpose must come before franchise calculus.

I’ve been covering studio cycles long enough to spot a pattern: after a few public flops, executives choose caution. That caution can be protective—or it can kill creativity. Which path will Sony take when the next idea lands on Rothman’s desk?