The Most Annoying Character Ever?

In between the usual Christmas pastimes (inept gift-wrapping, constant eating, wondering how starved of entertainment you’d have to be to tune into The World’s Strongest Man), I watched a stack of Blu-rays. These included Speed Racer (underrated — and awesome in high-def), Band Of Brothers, WALL-E and a few early Bonds. Then, on New Year’s Day, Empire’s John Hitchcox proffered an idea which seemed harmless, if not inspired, at the time: a viewing of the whole Spider-Man trilogy on Blu-ray in one go.

It started well — we oohed and aahed at intricately detailed radioactive-spider webs, high-fived shots of Spidey swinging through a glittering Manhattan, and shuddered at the sight of Kirsten Dunst’s snaggly fangs in 1080p. But over the course of the following 6+ hours, it dawned on me that the experience wasn’t going to be nearly as fun as I’d hoped. Why? Because of the lingering, malignant presence of one character. One so irritating, so odious, so deathly dull and utterly pointless, that every time she spoke, I got an overpowering urge to get up, go to the kitchen and do some washing-up. I am speaking, of course, of Aunt May.

Now, don’t write in saying that’s ageist: it’s not. I embrace the elderly — well, not literally, since they smell of talc and wee — and firmly believe there’s a place for them in modern cinema. But that place is in Ken Loach dramas, rather than effects-laden superhero spectaculars. In between every nail-biting train-top rescue or desperate duel on the side of a skyscraper, Sam Raimi seems compelled to slow everything down and add a cloying scene with Aunt May. It’s disastrous. Time and time again, the movies grind to a halt so the gusty pensioner can give Peter Parker ‘life advice’. If her truisms were actually profound or had any relevance to the plot, they might go down easier, but… well, listen to this sample dialogue:

“Lord knows, kids like Henry need a hero. Courageous, self-sacrificing people. Setting examples for all of us. Everybody loves a hero. People line up for them, cheer them, scream their names. And years later, they'll tell how they stood in the rain for hours just to get a glimpse of the one who taught them how to hold on a second longer. I believe there's a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride, even though sometimes we have to be steady, and give up the thing we want the most. Even our dreams.”

I mean, seriously! Tellingly, by the time May gets to the end of this corker of a monologue in the second Spider-sequel, “Henry” himself, a small child, has gone glassy-eyed and wandered off into the background of the shot. Aunt May is supposed to be the hero’s role model and the wise, kindly heart of the franchise. In reality, she’s a humourless, boring windbag — Yoda without the lightsaber, kung fu skills or amusing wordplay. There’s also the matter of her drinking problem — nothing to do with alcohol, rather the fact that at one point she makes tea without adding a teabag, and simply pours hot water into Peter’s mug. This is not a woman to be trusted.

Weighing up the matter during the interminable Spider-Man 3, I came to the conclusion that she is the movie character who annoys me the most. At least Jar-Jar limits himself to one-liners, where May never uses one word when she could offer a confused homily (“Pish-posh. Water over the dam, or under the bridge, or wherever you like it”) and a cup of tepid water instead.

Over to you. Have I unfairly maligned Aunt May? And is there a movie character you just can’t bear? Leave your comments and complaints below.