Deconstructing Spidey Rantorific panorama in cinemascope:

(rough draft to be expanded)

When I get like this I resort to a kind of academic shorthand, which is a limited discourse I’ll acknowledge, but I’m only willing to unpack if you are staying to ask questions, otherwise you’re on your own.

So with blogging and a critical eye in mind I went to see the new Spider Man tonight. Mary Jane is saying to Peter, “I’ve always been in your doorway.” And I am thinking the Derridian, “I have always and already been in your doorway, since the very notion of history has been collapsed by the flaws implicit in the underlying assumptions of history – as in his story and yes we’ve seen this “his-story” before, particularly on film.” I am about to unload so before I do let me say that I loved and enjoyed this film, I laughed and I also cried at key moments that touch on my personal struggle (I am not being ironic, I did tear up at a few moments, but I am a shlep so think what you will). Say what you will… the perils of Pauline have become more perilous, though they still include the surgeon’s circular saw reminiscent of sawmills of the past, hence the final scene's water front lumber mill locale complete with psuedo glacial ice on Spidey’s web. Spidey has to stop a train sans literal Pauline impediment, but she is psychically under threat so it’s the same widget. Then you include the unwieldy octopus of cheap power for the poor and you get Feminist Marxist film crit for you Jen.

The white insane Hobgoblin-to-be is willing to put his fortune on the line for his piece of cheap power, assuming it is an affordable monopoly. Silly duped Latin man with ethnically vague dead European wife, cut your ties with European idealism and succumb to the capitalists of the north, Dole just wants your bananas but, “we have no (fusion) bananas today” - you can stop it - just put out the fire. Fay Ray has her share of building assents, thank you King Kong (down to the dress no less), but her let me choose lines hit close to home as I-Karl-have sent more than one ex packing with the line, “I’m no good for you.” Of course I was obviously right, but that’s beside the point. Jen’s/Pie’s queries circle round the sexual so if I were to jerk a read from the obvious metaphors of virility I would focus on the sheepish Russian girl who offers him the chocolate cake. Can he have his cake and eat it too? Apparently he can, just as we can watch the schlock and love it like the good little monkeys we are.