A playful look appeared in Robert Ebert's eyes:
So, from the very first scene, the movie had already set its tone.
Does anyone remember? The narrator mentioned at the beginning that this is a story about a girl. The plot that follows sticks closely to the theme of a middle schooler, centering around the troubles of adolescence.
So, when a middle schooler gains superpowers, their first reaction isn't to save the world or fight crime. Instead, it's to buy a used car, hoping to catch the attention of their crush.
Ah, the awkwardness of youth.
This approach immediately sets "Spider-Man" apart from other superhero movies currently in theaters, even diverging from the narrative styles of classic heroes like "Superman" or "Batman."
Before its release, people treated "Spider-Man" as just another superhero movie. But clearly, that's a misconception. More accurately, it's a coming-of-age, high school drama.
Robert thought to himself, *Interesting.*
And then—
Peter appeared.
The host scoffed at the nickname "The Human Spider," deeming it too ridiculous, so he came up with a new one on the spot: "The Amazing… Spider-Man."
Robert chuckled. Even such small details carried a sort of dark humor, as if genuinely mocking the naive enthusiasm of an awkward teen.
Regardless, Spider-Man made his debut, easily defeating his powerful opponent with his astonishing abilities. But after the match, Peter didn't receive the promised $3,000 prize. The promoter claimed he'd won too quickly—the ad said he had to last three minutes, but Peter knocked out his opponent in two. As a result, Peter was only offered $100.
It was blatant discrimination against Peter's youth.
Angry and frustrated, Peter left. Unexpectedly, someone robbed the underground wrestling venue. Standing by the elevator, Peter didn't stop the robber. Instead, he stepped aside, letting the thief get away.
When the promoter confronted him, Peter smugly replied, "Not my problem."
But Peter had no idea that while he was fixated on revenge, the world outside was turning upside down.
In a carjacking incident, a driver was shot in the heart.
That driver was Uncle Ben.
Seeing his uncle lying there, barely alive, Peter froze. His mind was racing, overwhelmed with thoughts, unable to react. He just stood there, wide-eyed, staring at the frail form of Uncle Ben.
Uncle Ben struggled to grab Peter's hand, trying to say something, but he was too weak to speak. He managed to whisper just one word:
"Peter…"
Peter was stunned. He opened his mouth, a flood of words on the tip of his tongue, but his brain completely locked up. He watched helplessly as Uncle Ben closed his eyes.
Those bright blue eyes shed a single tear. Peter showed no expression, made no movement. His shoulders slumped as the tear fell, and it seemed he had forgotten how to breathe. His entire world crumbled around him.
Though there was no sound, you could almost see his heart shatter in that deep blue gaze, filled with broken dreams.
He tried to breathe but found himself suffocating. Tears streamed down his face like broken pearls, and a sense of confusion and helplessness dragged him into the abyss.
He heard police communications over the radio, tracking the thief, and that seized Peter's heart. His scattered focus gathered, and a flash of anger flickered in his bright, clear eyes.
Without hesitation, Peter bolted off at full speed.
This was the first time Peter fully used his superpowers. The camera followed him as he swung through the steel jungle of New York, the fluid movements and pounding music gripping the audience. One by one, people clenched their hands, their hearts rising and falling with Peter's every move, as if their fate was tied to his.
Peter found the thief and easily subdued him.
Enraged, Peter was ready to kill. But then, he saw the thief's face clearly—
It was the guy he let go at the underground wrestling match.
Cause and effect flashed through his mind. *It's him. He's the reason for all of this. If I hadn't let him go out of selfishness, none of this would have happened.*
*It's me. I'm the one to blame.*
At that moment, the entire theater was stunned into silence. Not a sound could be heard, as if even heartbeats and breaths had stopped.
Gloria was completely still. The image on the big screen magnified every detail tenfold, twentyfold. She could see the bright blue eyes so clearly, reading the struggle and inner turmoil reflected in them.
Shock. Confusion. Regret. Sorrow. Pain.
Little by little, the tension pulled, slowly tearing Peter's soul apart.
Gloria felt like she could see those wounds, bleeding in front of her, the pain so intense yet utterly silent. An enormous, soul-crushing force erupted deep inside but couldn't be released, swallowed back into the void, crashing through his entire being.
In the end, it all condensed into a fragile drop of despair, hanging on his eyelashes.
Cutting off his breath.
If this is the cost of growing up, it's far too brutal and savage. It wasn't a slow process of maturing overnight, but a forced transformation in just a single moment.
Time stood still.
Robert fell silent too, forgetting his critiques, forgetting his analysis, fully absorbed in those eyes. He felt himself being drawn back into Peter Parker's world. Quietly, it felt like he had returned to being eighteen again, reliving the pangs of youth, that era that once seemed like it would last forever.
The power of film washed over him like a tidal wave. The entire Royal Theater was utterly silent, yet you could hear the sound of hearts breaking.
And slowly, that heartbreak spread.
Blair subconsciously turned toward the doors of the Royal Theater—
But there was nothing.
Still, she had a feeling. She could sense a fragile, sensitive emotion permeating the air, causing her heartbeat to skip.
Suddenly, she felt a twinge of sadness.
"Blair?" Karen noticed.
Blair waved her hand, "No..." She paused, looking at the staff dismantling the premiere decorations. Nothing was out of the ordinary. She quickly refocused. "No, no, just my imagination."
Even so, her gaze drifted back to the theater doors, lost in thought once more.
Movies have this unique magic—
In just 90 to 120 minutes, they open a window, allowing the audience to glimpse a world suspended between reality and fantasy. It offers a brief escape, an adventure, a journey, and when it's over, it feels like nothing happened, yet it's as though your life has been extended by those 120 minutes.
Ordinary, yet extraordinary.
And now, it was happening again.
Even if only for a brief moment, Gloria had experienced the world's vast changes alongside Peter.