Spider-Me, Spider-Me

Is it possible to be bitten by a spider and not be the subject of a Spider-Man joke? I can now tell you from first-hand experience – no. Last week, at night while I was sleeping, something bit me on the foot, presumably an arachnid. The afflicted area became red and swollen, then it became purplish and really painful, then I went to the emergency room and got an IV drip full of antibiotics. I worked from home for a day, at which point my co-workers began referring to me as “Spider-Dave,” one of them re-wrote the Spider-Man theme to be about me (“Is he strong?/Listen, bud/He’s got a beard and prairie blood”) and one of our designers Photoshopped the above picture (thanks, Justin).

The jokes about super powers were relentless (“I didn’t see you at your desk, so I looked up at the ceiling”), as they should be, really – I mean, how often d’ya get the opportunity? Anyhow, no super powers were forthcoming, unless you count laying-on-the-couch-more-than-usual-for-a-few-days an unusual strength.

That’s OK, though because I’d look terrible in spandex, I’m not fond of heights and being a superhero would seriously cut into my movie watching time. Imagine never being able to get through an entire film due to tingling? “I know I should save those kids from the burning apartment building, but dammit, there’s only twelve minutes left in Police Academy 5 and I need to know how it ends.”

Like many kids, I was obsessed with superheroes, particularly Spider-Man. When I was about four, my parents took me to a Levis store in Lloydminister to meet “Spider-Man,” and I’ve still got the autograph and the little button he gave me.” There’s a point in one’s young life where you actually imagine the possibility of being a comic book hero and try to figure out what your life would be like. Would I get out of school to save people? Would I be allowed to tell mom and dad my secret identity? Would I still have to eat zucchini? Please make me not have to eat zucchini.

Sitting around in a hospital for hours gives one plenty of time to think about REALLY IMPORTANT stuff, so I wondered what would happen in the Spider-Man movie about my life, if I’d been bitten by a radioactive creepy-crawly. Then I recalled the Jack Black Spider-Man parody from the MTV Movie Awards and realized that would be the best I could hope for, but without a kiss from Sarah Michelle Gellar.

However, there is a new Spider-Man movie in the works, a reboot, which is ridiculous seeing as the last one came out in 2007. (Then again, that one’s so bad it shouldn’t really count…)

Instead of wishing to be Spider-Man, now I’m wishing for an anti-Spider-Man Spider-Man movie – some reason to care about this shameless cash-grab reboot. For starters, I figure that Wes Anderson (The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou) should direct it – he’s great with colours, likes very quirky characters and can really bring out the pathos of someone grappling with a great sense of responsibility. Father figures play huge in Anderson’s films too, and Peter Parker’s central pathos is that his actions led to death of his own father figure, Uncle Ben.

I think the bad guy should be Mysterio this time around, and he should be sardonically-voiced voiced by Bill Murray. Anjelica Houston could be a world-weary Aunt May and maybe Gene Hackman could do a turn as J. Jonah Jameson. Mary-Jane? Hmmm... maybe Christina Ricci?

Sure, a lot of the film would be self-analyzing conversations, comedic self-loathing and the search for acceptance and redemption, but it’d be a helluva lot better than, um, say, a dance sequence at a jazz club.

Wes Anderson’s Spider-Man, now that would actually get me stoked about a reboot. Then again, I’m also full of spider poison, so take anything I’ve said here with a few grains of radioactive salt.

-Dave Alexander