A Brand New Day for the Kid in Me

Hello, hello, and welcome to T.E.A. Time with Tayvin Bayless.

If this is your first time listening, welcome. If you’ve joined me before, welcome back.

What is something you loved when you were younger? Maybe it was a game, a book, a television show, or a particular kind of toy. Do you still enjoy it today, or did you eventually leave it behind?

For me, one of those things was Spider-Man. I watched the cartoons, read the stories, and saw every movie adaptation I could find. I was a fan. A pretty big one.

Then I got older. Life got busier, superhero movies became harder to keep up with, and some of that childhood excitement faded. It never disappeared completely, though. Apparently, it was just waiting for the right movie.

This brings me to the phrase for today: bring out the kid in someone. Bring out the kid in someone.

Imagine that part of your childhood personality is still hiding somewhere inside you. You are an adult now, with a job, responsibilities, and bills to pay. All very exciting stuff. Even so, the curiosity, playfulness, or excitement you experienced as a child has not completely disappeared.

In English, we use the phrase “bring out the kid in someone” when something makes that part of an adult’s personality appear again.

A father might start building a toy train with his children and become far more excited about it than his kids are. The train brought out the kid in him. A woman might see snow falling, run outside, and immediately start making a snowman. The snow brought out the kid in her. A group of serious adults might become strangely competitive during a board game. The game brought out the kid in them.

The phrase is flexible. Something can bring out the kid in me, bring out the kid in you, or bring out the kid in all of us.

Here’s a quick example: I don’t follow every new superhero movie anymore. I don’t have the time, and frankly, I don’t always have the interest. But every so often, a movie reminds me why I loved these stories in the first place. It brings out the kid in me.

Keep that phrase in mind, because a friendly neighborhood superhero is about to do exactly that for me.

Earlier today, Emma and I went to see the new Spider-Man movie, Spider-Man: Brand New Day. Much like our excursion last week to see the play The Far Gaze, we chose a matinee showing. Ours started around four because Emma had gone with one of her friends to see The Scarlet Pimpernel earlier in the afternoon. Apparently, it was a two-show day in our household.

For those of you who are unaware of Spider-Man’s cinematic history, we have had three separate movie series adapting his story. The first was Sam Raimi’s trilogy in the early 2000s, starring Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker. Then came two Amazing Spider-Man movies with Andrew Garfield, whose portrayal I really enjoyed. Finally, we have the version set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, starring Tom Holland. His first three movies formed a trilogy, and Brand New Day opens up new possibilities for where his character will go next.

That most recent series is part of a larger story for me. I’ve been an MCU fan since Iron Man came out in 2008, and I followed the movies and television shows closely until Avengers: Endgame. After Endgame, however, I began to lose interest for a variety of reasons. I’m sure many of the more recent movies have been good, but I haven’t kept up with every release. Spider-Man: Brand New Day rekindled a little of my old enthusiasm.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: not every movie is for every person. Just because I like or dislike a movie does not determine whether it is a high-quality film. With that said, I thought Spider-Man: Brand New Day was terrific.

I really enjoyed the previous trilogy of Tom Holland Spider-Man movies, but they did not always feel like the Spider-Man I grew up watching and reading. This movie, however, recaptured that classic atmosphere and emotion. It was a blast from the past, and it really brought out the kid in me. For a couple of hours, I felt some of the same excitement I had when I was younger.

Part of that familiar atmosphere comes from the scale of the story. His conflicts in this movie are much more local. He’s called your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, after all. We get to maintain all the character growth from the Home trilogy: Homecoming, Far From Home, and No Way Home, but Spider-Man is now much more isolated.

He doesn’t have the support system of Iron Man, the Avengers, and all the other superheroes he encountered in the previous movies. He works with local police, and he puts away bad guys. No one knows who he is, and he has to deal with the difficulty of balancing his identity as a superhero with his life as Peter Parker.

I think the movie did a great job of capturing that conflict. While the stakes were still quite high, they weren’t the same kind of universe-ending battles that he was involved in in previous movies. Yet the consequences felt very present and very weighty. It just goes to show that you don’t need world-ending stakes to make a compelling movie.

While the movie reminded me of my childhood, the experience of going to a theater has changed significantly since then. Film technology, speakers, screens, and special effects have all improved. But one change makes a particularly large difference for me: the seating.

The old seats were usually narrow, with plastic armrests. Many theaters have now replaced them with large leather recliners. There is enough space to kick out your legs and essentially lie down while watching the movie. It is a dangerous amount of comfort for a dark room in which I am expected to remain awake for several hours. Some theaters will even bring food and drinks directly to your seat.

Unsurprisingly, ticket prices have gone up. We went on a Saturday and paid full price because I just couldn’t wait, but many theaters offer discounts on Tuesdays. Even for the most frugal among us, five dollars for a movie in a leather recliner is difficult to complain about.

Even with those improvements, I’m not as enthusiastic about superhero movies as I was when I was younger. That’s a good thing. As a kid, I had far fewer responsibilities, but I also had a lot of things I was required to do that I found uninteresting. Superhero stories offered an escape from the mundane parts of my everyday life. They allowed me to daydream and wonder, and they helped me connect with many of the people around me.

Today, I have more responsibilities and far more interests competing for my time. I have things I want to learn, things I want to accomplish, and much less time to keep up with the MCU. That makes it even more surprising when one of these movies brings back the enthusiasm I felt when I was younger.

All right, let’s take a closer look at a second expression related to today’s story: your inner child.

Your inner child is the part of your adult personality that still carries feelings and behaviors from childhood. That might mean curiosity, imagination, playfulness, or an inability to remain calm when Spider-Man appears on a movie screen.

In casual conversation, English speakers often use this expression playfully. If I build an elaborate blanket fort in the living room, I might say that I am letting my inner child have some fun. Likewise, if Emma becomes surprisingly excited about a game of Catan, I could say that the game brought out her inner child.

In other contexts, the expression can have a more serious meaning. People talk about their inner child when discussing how childhood experiences continue to affect them as adults. In that case, connecting with your inner child means recognizing feelings and needs you have carried since childhood.

The term has been used in English since at least the middle of the twentieth century, although the general idea that childhood experiences remain part of our adult lives is much older. As far as I could find, there is no clean, single origin story for the everyday expression. It developed alongside broader psychological ideas about the lasting influence of childhood.

There is also a small difference between “inner child” and “inner kid.” “Inner child” can sound reflective or psychological. “Inner kid” usually sounds lighter and more playful. If a movie helped me understand a painful childhood memory, I might talk about my inner child. If I got excited and pretended to shoot webs from my wrists after watching Spider-Man, that would be my inner kid. Considerably less profound and with more sound effects.

That brings us back to our warm-up expression. You might say that something brings out the kid in you, brings out your inner child, or makes you feel like a kid again. The wording changes, but the central image remains the same: growing older does not completely erase the person you used to be.

So here’s something to think about: what activity, place, story, or experience brings out your inner child? The next time it happens, take a moment to enjoy it. Growing up comes with plenty of responsibilities. Your inner child can have an afternoon.

I don’t need to follow every superhero story the way I once did. Growing older means that my attention has moved toward different people, interests, and responsibilities. That isn’t something I need to resist.

Still, it is nice to discover that the excitement I felt as a child has not completely disappeared. Sometimes it only takes a familiar red and blue suit, a neighborhood in need of help, and a dark theater with a dangerously comfortable chair to bring it back out.

And with that, my cup is empty. Thanks for joining me for T.E.A. Time. Until the next pot.