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To See or Not To See Spidey

posted by Chad on 5/05/02

Now I’m going to disclaimer my way out of this before I even begin, because Spider-Man is full of geeklore and I’m positive that everybody out there knows more about Spidey than me. I didn’t read the comic. I didn’t watch the cartoon. But I took the Spidey crash course ala former duder B, and just like you, I’ve been subjected to the trailers again and again… and therefore, I too have an opinion. It may not be an educated one, but hey, I’m the guy that gets stoned and looks at cow statues, remember? You should know better than to carry high expectations.

Moving right along without a clever segue to do it, let’s get to the sticky issue at hand. I was strongly opposed to the Spider-Man movie project. The making of the film seemed to be a bigger soap opera and story than any movie adaptation of the comic could hope to produce, with directors and producers continually ditching the product. Then the Spider-Man movie slipped away from my memory, only recently rekindled by the movie trailers. I’m not a huge CGI fanboy… but something about the trailers… it’s almost horrifying. Every time I look at my TV, Spider-Man is there. Swinging from buildings, dancing around all the shit thrown at him, staring off into space… Spider-Man’s slick moves have hypnotized me into catching the movie as soon as possible. It’s like some high action ballet that has wooed me despite the original bad taste. Did I just say “wooed?” If that’s not fucking proof that I’ve been brainwashed into liking it, I don’t know what is.

I knew that my desire to see Spider-Man was a tad unreasonable when I turned down an opportunity to participate in the Million Marijuana March today. May 4 is International Drug Peace Day, with a whole load of shit happening in over 160 cities around the world. Here I am, the day after my girlfriend was paid, and her ATM card happens to be in my wallet. I’m out of weed, and there is an entire bud event with “music, speeches and fun, plus special gifts and lots of pot” (as quoted from the full page ad in my local entertainment paper). It’s a guaranteed high time with the possibility of chaos, which is exactly what I’m all about. Drugs and madness are guaranteed to put a smile on my face, and I turned it all down to see a pajama wearing socially awkward genius shoot spider webs.

How did I reach such a crazy decision? Well, the road wasn’t an easy one…

When lacking a proper picture, go gunt.

Let’s pick things up on Thursday, as that’s as far back as my memory reaches. I spent the day downtown with my sister Jen, who’s just broken up with her boyfriend for the fourth time in as many months. Each time, she was the one being dumped… and it’s done a number on her self-esteem. They’ve grown completely apart and even an outside observer notices that the words they share are laced with anger not love, but they’ve been together so long that it’s hard to imagine not having at least the sound of the others voice a part of their day-to-day lives. What can I say? She needed her big brother to cheer her up.

Anyway, we grabbed a buck-a-slice pizza, hit the waterfront and smoked a few bowls. Jen’s rarely downtown, so we hit a few alterna-clothing stores before winding up in the IMAX theater to see the new Space Station feature narrated by everybody’s favorite homosexual, Tom Cruise. I’m not a space freak by any means, but I have to say… seeing a rocket launch in 3-D with rocks ripping past your virtual vision while baked out of your tree is something that everybody should experience at least once, if only for your own personal selfish reasons. While it was good for me, nobody else in the theater seemed to enjoy hearing me scream “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!” while I waved my hands around like a drunken thirteen year old girl in a spaz, trying to bat the pebbles away that were whipping at my eyes.

We hit a pub after the movie, but my sister was sitting quiet so we chowed the food back quick and made some arrangements while on the road outta Dodge. Three of my buddies just moved into a place together, and it’s pretty much the party house that every frat boy dreams of. Jen and I swung by their place, but they couldn’t hear the doorbell because they were banging the fuck out of the drum kit. So I hoisted my sister onto the roof, where we pounded on the windows until we got inside and smoked their weed and drank the vodka from the flask I had in my drug purse. They had other plans for the evening, so Jen and I blasted back to my apartment, where the real party was about to begin.

Allison came home from work, Jen’s friend Darice arrived as did my buddy Goat, and after a last minute Liquor Store run, the drinks were barreling down my hatch. The only time I didn’t have two drinks in hand was while making french fries, and cleaning up the spilled seasoning salt with the dust buster. Let me tell you, as dumb as that all sounded… my dust buster now smells like a BBQ every time I turn it on. How can that be wrong?

Despite the large amounts of alcohol on hand, our cumulative weed stash disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Jen became completely dazed and confused, left a giggling mess of what earlier was my sister. Obviously not used to the bender days that I live, she passed out and her friend shortly thereafter. Allison crashed as 2 am rolled around, so Goat and I decided to walk to a local park, and low and behold, he saved one final bowl for him and I to split at our special weed smoking bench. He took the hour and a half walk home over the bridge while I moseyed through the streets of New West, stealing a new handful of flowers for the kitchen table.

Friday started low key, with me sending all the females off to their days of work, then taking a 4 hour nap for my lazy assed self. I awoke without weed or anything to do, so I hit up my buddies frat house for a bowl and small talk. I took off just as quickly as I came, as the newly constructed bong we pulled from made me sketchy. So now the decision needed to be made: should I see Spider-Man? Initial opinions were in, as Allison saw the movie earlier in the day with her handicapped clients. One of them became so excited that she cried and laughed and cheered right along with the movie. Allison loved it. So I went and read Roger Ebert’s review, where he said this:

Remember the first time you saw the characters defy gravity in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon"? They transcended gravity, but they didn't dismiss it: They seemed to possess weight, dimension and presence. Spider-Man as he leaps across the rooftops is landing too lightly, rebounding too much like a bouncing ball. He looks like a video game figure, not like a person having an amazing experience.

Are you fucking kidding me fat man? I’m admittedly not the most knowledgeable Spider-Man fan… but I can’t believe he actually compared the movements of “Spider-Man” to “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.” I’m going to use nice small words just so I get the point across. He’s Spider-Man. He has characteristics (ooo big word) like a spider. He’s not a gravity defying ninja. He’s swinging up and off of buildings, not floating around tree tops. Sure, the movie is fast paced… because he’s a superhero. IT’S BASED ON A COMIC BOOK. What did Ebert expect?

And with that review my plan was hatched – swing over to the local theatre for the 11am matinee and beat the rush. Only problem was that I couldn’t fall asleep until 6 am. I awoke for Darice at 10, as she picked up her forgotten cell phone and the bottle of Vanilla Vodka she left in the freezer from the night before. I swear, if that Vodka didn’t taste so girly, it wouldn’t have been left for her to pick up. I fell back asleep after she left… but the fire bells started ringing like crazy, rekindling a blurry memory of a suite fire safety inspection notice that slid through the door earlier in the week. Like I’m going to lie in bed while a bunch of fire fighters hold matches under censors. So up and attem on just over 4 hours of sleep, I jogged to the theater to find gunty ladies, geeky men, and a bunch of wound up kids jacked to see Spider-Man.

Five bucks later and all I have to say is that I cried and laughed and cheered right along with the movie. Kick ass – I can’t remember enjoying any action movie this much. And what really was the deciding factor in me going to see it?

Not fire tests, but rather just being burnt out. I don’t have a work week, but I have no shortage of friends and plans. It was nice to get up early and hit the first show good and clean, come home, cook my girlfriend dinner, and blast out this article. Besides, I have plans for Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. If I didn’t see the movie now… when would I? And more importantly, if I didn’t rest and lay back tonight, then when would I? I’m not Spider-Man you know.

-Chad “fouff wants to see Spider-Man high next time”

Useless trivia for the forum rats: my original appearance on W-D was a plug B gave me at the bottom of his very own Spider-Man article.

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