I first saw SPIDER-MAN 2 in a double feature with Tony Scott's MAN ON FIRE. I remember almost nothing from that screening. For years, I would hear friends talk about how awesome SPIDER-MAN 2 was, and I'd smile and nod my head, but really, I was just remembering Denzel Washington cutting people's fingers off as "Oye Como Va" and "Hey Mickey" played in the background. To each his own.
But there's one thing I have always remembered about SPIDER-MAN 2. During the bank robbery scene, Doctor Octopus starts throwing bags of money at Spider-Man, and they explode. Into coins. The bank is literally holding bags of coins, like the kind you'd see Scrooge McDuck jealously guarding on Sunday morning. They may as well have put the big dollar sign on the bags. It was kind of amusing at the time, but now, looking back at it, this decision has come to define the entire movie for me.
But first, what is SPIDER-MAN 2 ostensibly about? Sacrifice. No less than three characters have distinct speeches about giving up "your dream" in order to do "the right thing". Peter has to choose between being Spider-Man or being with Mary Jane. Octavius, in the climax of the film, has to choose between doing nothing or destroying his life's work. Throw in a big slice of survivor's guilt between Aunt May and Peter, and we're looking at some fairly heavy stuff. So what the hell is a movie with these serious thematic explorations doing with a ghost Willem Dafoe screaming "AVENGE ME!" and cartoon money bags?
The answer is that SPIDER-MAN 2 sits in that awkward transition between childhood and maturity that the best comic book movies manage to navigate. It's a very tricky minefield to walk through. When critics hate superhero movies, they throw "comic book" around like a dirty word, and when they do, they're referring to those things that only the juvenile can truly believe in: giant ice death rays, assassins who kill people with their amazing darts skills, and the like. These sorts of "comic book" movies get the most scorn because they veer too far into fantasy.
Getting too real, though, won't bring the kids in. I give you SPAWN, or any version of THE PUNISHER. People don't heap scorn on these movies, though - more often, they're just met with shrugs and quickly forgotten. They're movies for niche audiences, the ones who want to see sobering theological debate between Black Dynamite and John Leguizamo in a fatsuit. Most of us just don't get it. Instead, we seem to want a mix of the fantasy of comic books with an undercurrent of more adult concerns. In 1989, we wanted Batman to have a ridiculous bat-shaped jet fighter, but we basically voided the purpose of that plane by demanding that we examine Batman's "one rule" philosophy. I mean, why does he have the Batwing equipped with machine guns if he won't kill people? Because we want to see a goddamned Batwing, that's why.
So what are we talking about when we talk about SPIDER-MAN 2? We're talking about childhood dreams and adult pessimism, and we're talking about a weird space where we want to indulge in that fantasy, but we can't validate it without it coming from a sober adult perspective. The ending to SPIDER-MAN 2 is the perfect encapsulation of this push and pull. After Mary Jane and Peter have been apart for the whole movie, doing the adult thing, there's a moment of elation as they unite, as they've known they should since they were teenagers. This emotion should coast us out of the theatre as we swing through the city. But our reservation about this kind of fantasy rears its head, and the film undercuts this elation right as the Sum 41 should be kicking in, instead lingering back on a wistful Mary Jane as she watches her love fly away, in an ominous portent of the future.
The point is, when it comes to entertainment, especially summer blockbuster entertainment, we're not quite satisfied with being youthfully exuberant or a grown-up killjoy. We want a little of both.
And that's why there are exploding bags of coins in a movie about sacrifice.
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