Spider-Man: Turn Off the Cash

It’s rare that I get to talk about musical theatre and comic books AT THE SAME TIME, so I’m excited the Spider-Man musical gives me that chance. I wish it were under better circumstances, though, since the (rumored) $40 million Broadway production is apparently experiencing a “cash flow” problem, making it doubtful that it’ll open in February.

This doesn’t surprise me—or anyone else, really. If its budget is as big as the word on the street claims, Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark will be the most expensive Broadway musical ever. Add to that its sky-high weekly running costs, and it’d have to be a bigger phenomenon than Wicked to make that money back. I hope things work out for the show and that it still makes it to Broadway; I don’t want to see all the people that have been working on it for so long out of a job.

I’m also kind of excited for it, although I’m also kind of sad about it at the same time. I’ve loved Spider-Man since watching the cartoons as a little kid, and I feel even more strongly about the character now. There are a lot of things I find compelling about the story, but I ultimately connect with the identity issues Peter faces. Who is Peter Parker? The geeky goody-goody who can’t talk to the girl next door and doubles as Flash Thompson’s punching bag? Or the wisecracking, skyscraper-swinging defender of the weak whose humility won’t let people see his face? Bruce Wayne is undeniably the mask Batman puts on in daylight; Superman is at heart a farm boy from Smallsville. But with Spider-Man, it’s never been clear if donning that red and blue jumpsuit lets Peter put on a disguise—or take it off.

I generally enjoyed all three Spider-Man movies, despite being mortified at the second half of the third and being annoyed by a few things in the second. All three were a little too action-centric for me, but in a big summer blockbuster superhero movie, that’s what people expect, and I appreciated that the films don’t ignore the psychological aspects of the story. For the record, I like seeing things explode and I love a good fight, but other superhero stories have plenty of that. I loved last summer’s Iron Man and The Dark Knight partly because of how those films used violence. But Iron Man and Batman are different kinds of characters with different relationships to violence. Nobody wants to see Tony Stark or Bruce Wayne sit around narrating their feelings, partly because (in Bruce’s case) it’d be a boring emofest, but mostly because that’s not what those characters do. That’s not who they are

But that’s who Peter Parker is, and my favorite incarnations of Spider-Man reflect that. Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane is nowhere near as fluffy a work as its title implies. Told from the teenage Mary Jane’s perspective, the comic addresses all the story’s core themes in a high school setting. The characters uniformly talk and act like teenagers without sounding petty or stupid. It’s hard to write attractive and popular 16 year olds well, but Sean McKeever and his successor, Terry Moore, give Mary Jane, Liz Allen, Flash Thompson, and Harry Osbourne the respect they deserve. Equally impressive is the artwork. This series introduced me to two of my favorite artists: Sean McKeever’s initial collaborator on the project, Takeshi Miyazawa, and Craig Rousseau, who joined when Terry Moore did. There’s a brilliant sequence at the end of the second volume where Mary Jane breaks up with Harry, Peter almost breaks up with Gwen Stacy, and Spider-Man breaks up with the flirtatious superhero, Firestar. The panels rotate through the three couples in a way that’s breathtakingly cinematic, and the panels themselves are gorgeous in their simplicity. I’ve never seen anything convey Peter’s weariness more than this sequence, as he tries to do what’s right both as Peter and as Spider-Man, knowing full well that he can’t be with Mary Jane in either identity.

Similarly brilliant is The Spectacular Spider-Man animated series. It’s a kids show—it premiered on Kids CW and now airs on Disney XD, Disney’s channel for animated shows. The first season has just been released on DVD, and I strongly urge anyone who loves quality superhero shows—and quality children’s television—to pick it up, since higher DVD sales make it more likely there’ll be a third season. Like Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane, the show focuses on the teenaged Peter Parker, and it equally succeeds at depicting Peter and his classmates as actual high school students. The Spectacular Spider-Man has the additional challenge of being aimed at young children. I don’t know anything about the show’s actual demographic, but I’d imagine “young children” really means “4-10 year old boys.” (Although I hope a decent number of girls watch it, too.)

As I’ve mentioned, there are a lot of complex psychological issues inherent in Spider-Man, and it’d be so, so easy for a kids’ version of the story to be more about Spider-Man and less about Peter Parker. I only have vague memories of the Spider-Man cartoon I watched as a kid (I don’t even remember the title), but everything I do remember involves Spider-Man tossing off one-liners as he beats up bad guys. I don’t even remember what that show’s Peter looked like. I doubt any kid watching The Spectacular Spider-Man would have that trouble, however. The show certainly has enough action and simple enough storylines to hold an eight year old’s attention, but it never shies away from heavy topics, such as Harry’s addiction to a performance-enhancing drug, and Liz’s brother’s severe gambling problem. It’s also got some of the funniest and smartest writing I’ve seen on television. One of my favorite moments is in the second season, when Peter and his classmates are ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Peter burns his tongue on hot chocolate right before supervillains descend on the students…causing Spider-Man to make barely intelligible quips because of his burnt tongue. There are also delightful little details throughout each episode; one villain drinks from a mug that has “Evil Genius” printed on the side. It may be for kids, but The Spectacular Spider-Man has gotten me and my boyfriend completely hooked—and we’re both in our mid-twenties.

That’s my Spider-Man, and that’s the Spider-Man I wish so desperately we’d see in a Broadway musical. Spider-Man doesn’t need to be big budget special effects. Maybe at did as a movie, but not as theatre. For all my hopes that Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark is visually brilliant with an awesome rock score, I feel the story and its characters would fit so much better as a character piece with a tiny cast in a black box. It’d certainly be cheaper.