R-17
Yesternight, I treated myself to dinner and a film. I, having much disappointment and frustration with many of Marvel's films and writing choices, was waiting for the new Spider-Man film to become available for streaming, but I had been told by many that it was a return to decency that many of the its predecessors – not just Spider-Man films, but general Marvel movies – lack. So, yesterday, having time, realising that the film would leave theatres later this week, I decided to purchase a ticket. I bought myself dinner; I went to the theatre; I had a wonderful time. There was a coherent story. There were themes. There were characterisations which made sense in the context of the world. I really enjoyed the film, honestly.
What fascinated me most, I think, is Peter's relationships with others being one of the main themes throughout the film, and how this affected this iteration of Spider-Man's relationship with himself and his powers. With Peter isolating himself from others and immersing himself exclusively in the Spider-Man persona, he made himself brittle and allowed himself to be used and manipulated. By remaining stagnant, he only increased his personal suffering, which led to him lashing out in ways that caused collateral damage. The argument this film seems to make is that one can only learn how to move on, learn how to change and grow beyond the confines of one's traumas, by reaching out to others for help, by accepting who you are as you are and doing your best to move forward, with honesty and, scarily enough, acceptance – of both who you are and the limits of your reach.
Even the symptoms of Peter's predicament parallel a typical trauma response: increased sensitivity to stimuli, agoraphobia, uncontrollable rage... from a writing perspective, pairing Peter up with Frank makes a lot of sense in that Frank is the paradigm of someone stuck in their trauma cycle. I anticipate a lot of people being upset with recent characterisations of Frank, but thinking of all the people in-universe who have relationships with Frank – heroes who tend to respond to him not with disgust nor hatred, but with understanding of who he is and how he got here, and that he is a veteran of war who lost all he fought for and so fights in the way he knows best – it made complete sense from a writerly standpoint for him to serve as the parallel for what happens when one becomes lost in their stagnancy.
It was interesting, too, seeing self-growth promoted by so much in the background – the spider videos Peter was watching; conversations with various people he knows as Spider-Man; even conversations with MJ and one of the antagonists throughout the film. All of these kept indicating to him that he needed to change, that he needed to embrace and figure out the changes he underwent. Not inhibit them, as he tried so hard to do, to keep himself in the normal that he was used to (as Frank does), but to accept and adjust to change. The choices he made after he did so all aligned with who we know Peter to be: a caring, kind person, with a heart big and warm enough to disarm even the most justified of angry, tortured souls. He doesn't change those he affects, because it is their task to change, but he does open the door or window for them to realise that they can change.
I will always hold that Peter's greatest power is not in his strength, durability, senses. His greatest power is not in web-slinging, nor his healing factor. His greatest power is his ability to see people for who they are, to understand how they came to the moment he faces them, and to give his all, as often and thoroughly as possible, to interact with them with kindness and a willingness to help them reflect on how they could be a part of the world beyond their traumas, anger, and/or greed.
What makes Peter such a successful hero is how great his heart is; that is how he has inspired so many people, fictional and otherwise – including me.