Oh boy yeah.
- Spider-Man 2

"Godspeed, Spider-Man"
I spoke to you once about the matter of Marvel Films, and how it was my feeling that thus far, each film has one moment that just resonates with me -- with the exception of the atrocious Daredevil. Well, a little less than a year later, let me say that The Punisher almost makes Daredevil seem watchable, and that it's easier to pick out moments of Spider-Man 2 that don't resonate with me.

When I was picking apart the trailers and TV spots, there were one or two clips I saw that I assumed had to come from dream sequences, because they seemed too surreal or heartbreaking or wonderful to be part of anyone's conception of the real world, even a "real world" as fantastic as the New York City of Sam Raimi's imagination. And what blew me away was that all these scenes that seemed like dreams actually happen. Our bloodied and beaten hero crawls along a giant web against the backdrop of the Manhattan skyline. Peter Parker, Spider-Man is carried aloft by a sea of humanity like the Nazarene taken down from the cross. There are moments, many moments, in this flick that make me want to cry, and I don't know if I'm just feeling really vulnerable these days or what, but there you have it.

I think it's a beautiful film, and that's a word I try not to just throw around, but I guess I probably end up doing so anyway, because there are just times when I see beauty where others wouldn't. I don't know. Watch Spider-Man swing over nighttime New York in slow motion, and if you don't get a sense of his sorrow even though you can't even see his face, tell me, because maybe I'm just projecting my own melancholy where it doesn't belong.

This movie was just about everything I wanted it to be. The two schmucks who created Shanghai Noon and Smallville and the genius who wrote Wonder Boys and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay managed to put a story together that the assclown behind What About Bob? couldn't ruin. James Leer really steps up and shows us why Bubble Boy'd better bounce the fuck off. And little Mary Svevel... *sigh* Not to mention the fact that Phil LaMarr, who got his head blown off in Pulp Fiction before settling into a steady diet of voice work, makes an appearance but never speaks a word.

I tell you, I have seen glorious glories and dreamt dreams about dreams...

Of course, you've got to take anything I say on this matter with a grain of salt. I haven't been able to shake the cobwebs from my head for almost ten years now.

But I thank you, world, for this one wonderful thing.

NEXT:
Happy Birthday