As I went to the cinema to see Marvel and Jon Watts' third installment of Tom Holland's teenage Spider-Man we had the usual discussion about the differences between a Marvel movie and everything else. And while I had, in the back of my head, Scorsese's claims that Marvel movies are nothing more than entertainment--a claim which I still think is a bit too harsh--we both agreed that this giant's agenda does not contain artistic ambitions--at least not at the expense of the entertainment.
Our disagreements came at the statement on whether we consider "funny" and "entertaining" enough to produce a great movie--while I believe these are positive traits, they can only do so much and can rarely reach greatness. He scuffed at my pretentions and said: "Marvel knows how to make feel-good movies"--I was almost jealous at how good he put it. This is as straight-forward and as blunt as it gets.
So, while "Spider-Man: No Way Home" is not much more than entertainment, it's top quality entertainment: calculated, sprinkled with Marvel's trademark humor which is often placed among the darkest of situations yet somehow never seeming out-of-place. But these are all generic characteristics, fitting of most Marvel films. What really makes this particular movie stand out, though, is its ability to shift seamlessly from joy to agony, from achievement to loss and from celebration to tragedy. Towards its ending, it moved me more than most Marvel movies did and it contained more morality than I expected.
In a way, despite its economic approach--not to mention the silly way in which the plot was catalyzed--this movie reminded me of the late Stan Lee's emotional wisdom when he created this universe. As Spider-Man learns what it means to be a hero, so do we, as an audience, get a refresher on the importance of sacrifice and forgiveness. Here, for instance, the villains are viewed through very different eyes. In the interest of not spoiling, I will draw a social parallel towards mental health--and the patience and understanding the long-sufferers of these conditions require from the rest of us. Here, Tom Holland's Peter Parker acts as a therapist of sorts, a social idealist whose fixation on second chances almost rivals that of Batman's own no-killing-permitted moral code.
The second half of "Spider-Man: No Way Home", which encompassed tragedy, showed me a side of Marvel which I haven't seen since "Infinity War". It is made of moments when even the wittiest of jokes know to step aside so that the movie's hero can grow. It's only a shame that Marvel is too good at pure-blood entertainment--not to mention it makes them too much money--to ever consider attempting anything more.
Our disagreements came at the statement on whether we consider "funny" and "entertaining" enough to produce a great movie--while I believe these are positive traits, they can only do so much and can rarely reach greatness. He scuffed at my pretentions and said: "Marvel knows how to make feel-good movies"--I was almost jealous at how good he put it. This is as straight-forward and as blunt as it gets.
So, while "Spider-Man: No Way Home" is not much more than entertainment, it's top quality entertainment: calculated, sprinkled with Marvel's trademark humor which is often placed among the darkest of situations yet somehow never seeming out-of-place. But these are all generic characteristics, fitting of most Marvel films. What really makes this particular movie stand out, though, is its ability to shift seamlessly from joy to agony, from achievement to loss and from celebration to tragedy. Towards its ending, it moved me more than most Marvel movies did and it contained more morality than I expected.
In a way, despite its economic approach--not to mention the silly way in which the plot was catalyzed--this movie reminded me of the late Stan Lee's emotional wisdom when he created this universe. As Spider-Man learns what it means to be a hero, so do we, as an audience, get a refresher on the importance of sacrifice and forgiveness. Here, for instance, the villains are viewed through very different eyes. In the interest of not spoiling, I will draw a social parallel towards mental health--and the patience and understanding the long-sufferers of these conditions require from the rest of us. Here, Tom Holland's Peter Parker acts as a therapist of sorts, a social idealist whose fixation on second chances almost rivals that of Batman's own no-killing-permitted moral code.
The second half of "Spider-Man: No Way Home", which encompassed tragedy, showed me a side of Marvel which I haven't seen since "Infinity War". It is made of moments when even the wittiest of jokes know to step aside so that the movie's hero can grow. It's only a shame that Marvel is too good at pure-blood entertainment--not to mention it makes them too much money--to ever consider attempting anything more.