Spiderman, where are you?

Spiderman (2014) is the only superhero film I watched. And somehow the only one I really like (Andrew Garfield, of course). And to any of you coming at me for this, this post is not about superheroes. Did you really think I would write about superheroes? In this economy?

The scene where Gwen fell from that tower, and Peter did everything to save her, but couldn’t. It was heartbreaking then, when I watched it, for different reasons. It’s heartbreaking still, for very different reasons. Even Spiderman couldn’t save his lover. But was it really just about that? Was it really about the loss of love? When I look at it now, there are so many layers to just that one scene.

Throughout that entire scene, I remember how Gwen kept looking up at Peter, with hope. Gwen knew Peter would definitely save her. I remember how beautifully the scene depicted the soul-biting desperation that everything will be alright. Spiderman saves everybody, so of course, he will save one of the most important people in his life. Gwen kept looking up in hope that Peter would save her. And then I think of how she closed her eyes before she hit the ground. That moment feels like a quiet acceptance. She accepted that Peter couldn’t save her. She accepted her fate. I think Gwen died in that moment when she closed her eyes. She died in the hope of it all.

And that reminds me of real life. We humans, do everything for the hope of it all. We keep looking up, no matter how many times the string breaks. That desperation, that rush seems to have life. One friend breaks your heart in school, and you look forward to the next. You feel you’ve almost found it, that missing piece to your puzzle, and cracked the code. Yet again, you’re proven wrong. But you still hope that the next one will keep your heart. You love like every cell of your body is intertwined with another. But can your lover keep your heart? Your hope? But does that stop you from hoping? When you fell to the floor and prayed to god with your fists clenched, begging him to make your mother understand you? Or when you asked why the brother who promised he’ll take care of you never called, and you never knew why? Or when the million times you looked up to the sky to find your father? Or when your grandfather, the only true love you ever felt, was taken too soon? Or when every time people around the world suffer, democracy fails, you still revolt? Did the hope ever leave? We live as fragments in people’s lives, in this world. Something not very remarkable, not poignant, not invincible. Hope is the only thing that makes us valuable, something to hold on to.

Peter never gave up. He did everything he could. And when he came down, inching slowly towards Gwen’s body, I saw the hope. The hope that she’s okay, that she’ll live. As long as he could, he had hope. And so did Gwen. Till the last minute, till she closed her eyes, she had hope.

I have tried everything to dismiss hope. To tell myself that hope is torturous, evil almost. It makes beggars of us, standing with empty hands and eyes, aching for it all to turn around.

Hope killed Gwen. And it killed Peter, too. And it kills all of us. There’s no good way out of it. Can somebody save us from hope? Spiderman, where are you?