Spider-Man: Brand New Day

The small, brightly lit studio of Hot Ones smells of vinegar and impending doom. Host Sean Evans sits opposite two of Hollywood’s most compelling talents, Tom Holland and Jon Bernthal. A decade after they starred together in the muddy medieval indie film Pilgrimage, the two find themselves sharing the screen in two massive summer blockbusters: Spider-Man: Brand New Day and Christopher Nolan's sweeping epic The Odyssey. This reunion, however, is not on a red carpet. It is over ten chicken wings doused in increasingly high Scoville-rated sauces. Both actors are veterans of the hot seat. They know the rhythm of the pain. Yet, the early transition from wing one to wing two brings a shocking spike in heat. The casual bravado quickly evaporates. Bernthal, known for his intense physicality and gritty roles, stares at his plate in disbelief. Holland’s eyes water immediately. They realize that to survive the gauntlet a second time, they must lean on the same camaraderie that sustained them on freezing film sets in Ireland and the brutal desert heat of Morocco. The Day the Punisher Broke His Vow During the early rounds of mild spice, Holland recalls their time filming Pilgrimage, where Bernthal played a mute character. Off-camera, Bernthal committed fully to method acting. He refused to speak a single word for weeks. This left a teenage Holland with the heavy burden of being his real-world translator. They frequented local Irish restaurants where Bernthal would silently write his orders on scraps of paper. Holland would read them aloud to confused waitstaff, jokingly dismissing his co-star as a pretentious actor. The silent vow seemed unbreakable until one evening when Bernthal ordered salmon. He scribbled a request for lemon. The waitress, misunderstanding the request, dropped a lemon wedge directly into his water glass instead of placing it on his fish. The sight of his dry salmon and ruined water was the final straw. Bernthal looked up and said, "All right, fuck it. I'm talking again." The table erupted. The intense method actor had been defeated not by artistic exhaustion, but by a misplaced citrus fruit. The Ghost Lights and Theater Superstitions As the heat levels climb with sauce number five, the conversation shifts to their shared roots on the stage. Evans asks about theater traditions, specifically the eight-minute delay common in Broadway and West End shows. Bernthal describes those quiet minutes before the curtain rises as his absolute favorite part of the day. For him, the theater is a space filled with the spirits of past performances. This leads to the lore of the ghost light—a single bulb left burning on an empty stage. While practical for safety, both actors acknowledge its spiritual significance. It keeps the dark at bay for the ghosts that inhabit the theater. When Evans asks about the ultimate theatrical taboo of saying Macbeth inside the building, Holland admits he avoids temptation. He refuses to say the name of the Scottish play or whistle on stage. He does not want to mess with the delicate magic of live performance, where he thrives on the terrifying reality that everything could fall apart at any second. Surviving the Nuclear Aftershock of Da Bomb As always, the true turning point of the interview is the eighth wing: Da Bomb Beyond Insanity. The sauce hits both men like a physical blow. Holland immediately regrets his decision to take a massive bite. He recalls his last appearance on the show, which was followed by a Lakers game where he spent the evening in agony, fearing he might lose control of his bowels courtside. Bernthal tries to tough it out, but sweat pours down his face. They desperately toast glasses of milk, with Holland momentarily panicking about whether milk contains gluten. The physical toll is immense. Holland declares he feels like he might black out. The pain forces a raw honesty out of both actors, transforming the promotional interview into a chaotic, sweaty survival pact. A Decade of Brotherhood and Shared Leaps of Faith With their mouths burning from the final sauce, Evans asks what they appreciate most about each other after ten years of growth. The comedy fades, replaced by genuine emotion. Holland, holding back tears of both pain and affection, explains how crucial Bernthal has been as a role model. He praises the way Bernthal prioritizes his family, handles himself on set, and has treated Holland since he was a kid. Bernthal returns the sentiment, reminding Holland of the long journey they have shared. They auditioned for their career-defining Marvel roles—Spider-Man and The Punisher—together while working on that small indie film in Ireland. They took a massive leap of faith into the Hollywood machine together. Having conquered the highest peaks of the industry, they finished their wings, proved their endurance, and left the table with a bond forged in Ireland, tested in Morocco, and sealed in hot sauce.