Parasocial Peter Parker

Tom Foley

“Spider-Man: Brand New Day” is drawing major attention both in Storm Lake and around the world. Superhero movies are certainly no longer in their heyday, but the Wall-Crawler maintains his unique ability to dazzle audiences everywhere.

It’s no big revelation that Spidey is relatable to a lot of young men: an ordinary, awkward dude with rent to pay. Die-hard fans have said for years that the Web-Head is at his most heroic when grappling with the crushing loneliness that comes with striking out on your own.

“Brand New Day” proves them right. It also shows that no one is immune from one of the most isolating forces of our time — social media.

It’s hard to work social media into a movie because it’s a hard thing to see in the third person.

You don’t hear many people say, “Everyone’s always looking down at their phones these days” anymore. They probably got tired of saying it — or worse, fell into the habit themselves. But the sight of it is no less unseemly, even as it’s become more prevalent.

The problem is, trying to break free from a social media addiction is like trying to quit drinking in college: You can do it, but you’ll feel like you’re missing out.

Luckily, there’s no hangover, and you can even do it at work if you’re sneaky. But make no mistake: It’ll kill you.

It’ll kill you to take stock of all the waking hours you spend online. It’ll kill you to think of what you could have done with them. It’ll kill you when you finally set the phone down and realize how uncomfortable it is to exist in the world without it.

Social media almost works as a shield from the unknown. Sending videos to friends, seeing their photos, messaging them from time to time — it can fool you into thinking there’s real connection in your life, an intoxicating notion for an isolated society.

Most recently, it almost fooled Peter Parker.

Tom Holland’s portrayal of the human spider was largely spared from the typical Spidey solitude because, even in his most trying times, he was never without the stalwart support of his besties, Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones Watson.

That changed with “Spider-Man: No Way Home”, a movie I’m going to spoil if you keep reading, because it sets up “Brand New Day.”

Parker is forced to ask the Sorcerer Supreme to cast a spell, erasing not Spider-Man, but Parker himself, from everyone’s memories. He tearfully tells his friends he’ll come find them and reintroduce himself, but something stops him just short of doing so. Instead, he capitalizes on his perfect anonymity and throws himself into vigilante work.

The desire to break free from the people you love to work on yourself is a strong one for many of the men of my generation. Social media exacerbates the timeless human feeling that we’re just so far behind.

At the touch of a button, there are teen millionaires, 21-year-old directors and one of your high school friends doing so much more than you are, all reminding you that you’re not “following your dreams” enough.

Parker wants to just do his own thing for a while.

Or at least he thinks he does.

Parker has a major issue: He can’t stop watching his friends’ Instagram reels. He wanted the clean break, but the loneliness is eating away at him.

He’s in his superhero prime, buddy-buddy with the NYPD and ruthlessly tackling his rogues’ gallery. Even as the city of New York looks to the skies with hope and envy, he lies alone at night wishing he were going to college with his friends.

He can’t even properly mourn the loss of his relationships. Anytime the solitude becomes too much to bear, he can check in on his best friend and the girl he used to love.

The problem is, they no longer know each other.

Their relationship is strictly parasocial.

Before he knew it, four years had passed. Watson and Leeds rent an apartment together and return to New York. That unhealthy attachment festering inside the human spider reaches a fever pitch when he sees his buddy Leeds in a bodega after years of separation.

He follows him home to a party Leeds is hosting. Wandering straight in, he instinctively enters Leeds’ room, only to find that his friend has developed a parasocial relationship of his own — with none other than the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.

Leeds tells Parker he’s been yearning to know just who the Human Spider is for many years. In his mind, he has countless memories of impeccable rescues and an unplaceable closeness.

They’ve each been obsessing over the other’s life through a screen, all because Parker was too headstrong to admit he misses them, too quick to believe he can replace them.

It’s important to note that Parker got lucky this time.

In real life, parasocial relationships can have significantly more dire consequences if left unchecked. Stalking, obsession and invasion of privacy can rule the day, when once upon a time, to see someone you liked, you had to muster up the courage to ask them out.

Social media can stunt breakups, too. People report obsessing over every post, constantly scanning to see whether their ex has gotten back together with someone yet. But it’s never enough to replace genuine connection or soothe the pain of isolation.

There’s only one cure for that, and it’s Spider-Man-approved: Start letting people in once again.

Tom Foley is a student at the University of Missouri, and summer intern at the Times Pilot.