I’ve spent the greater part of the last week battling with myself. Who was I crushing on more? Andrew Garfield or Alex Pettyfer?
True, there was a moment where I couldn’t figure out if it was hot outside or if I had just been thinking about Alex Pettyfer’s body for too long, and Pettyfer almost got the edge on this week. However, I have never really liked tennis, but now I’m excited to watch the Wimbledon finals tomorrow because I noticed that Andy Murray kind of looks like Andrew Garfield if you squint. That’s not love. That’s a crush.
And so, Andrew Garfield is the second ever Crush of the Week!
My crush on Andrew Garfield has been developing quietly over the past few years. I first noticed his handsome mug modeling in Vogue to promote The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Then, I watched him resist Cybermen in 1930’s New York on Doctor Who. By the time I saw him cry, “Lawyer up,a##hole!” in The Social Network, I was smitten.
Now, it would be easy to brush off my love for Andrew Garfield by declaring that I only like him because he’s a British actor. If you’ve read any other article that I’ve ever written, you’ll know that British actors are my kryptonite. I can remain focused on any task that I set my mind to, whether it’s cleaning my room or understanding the complexities of organic chemistry. Then, once someone reminds me that British actors exist, I lose all focus and imagine living in a world where I get to marry a British actor, and spend half my time drinking gin and tonics in the National Theatre’s bar in London and the other half on our country estate where all I do is read books and watch exotic quails waddle around our lush properties. Since British actors are constantly popping up in conversations (that I have with myself), I have never been able to keep my room clean or master organic chemistry.
However, Andrew Garfield is half-British, half-American. His father is American and his mother British. Which means that Andrew Garfield has a transatlantic thing going on, which could be worse for me than if he was just British. Now, he’s not just the hot, skinny, adorably nerdy British stage actor of my dreams, he’s also the hot, skinny, adorably nerdy all-American superhero. He’s a double threat and that’s not fair to my nerves.
I’ll be the first to admit that I was very worried about seeing The Amazing Spiderman this week. I’m a massive comic book fan and the movie seemed lost in the summer shuffle between The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises. Maybe it wasn’t going to be good. Maybe Andrew Garfield wasn’t going to be good. There was even a point last week where I honestly didn’t think Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone were trying to promote their new movie. They were traveling the world promoting a true and perfect love that I can scarcely help imagining ever having.
However, I’ve seen The Amazing Spiderman and I have to say that Andrew Garfield is amazing in it. (So, the title doesn’t lie.) Andrew Garfield is the ideal Peter Parker: a slouching, smart ass, sinewy superhero. More than that, he’s also an ideal superhero crush. His chemistry with real-life girlfriend Emma Stone sparkles off the screen. As a redhead, I’ve always been partial to Mary Jane Watson, but Andrew Garfield has this way of looking at Emma Stone that is so sweet, sexy and soulful that I left the theater secretly hoping that the filmmakers decide to make some major changes to the Spiderman/Gwen Stacey saga.
Now, if we can somehow get Alex Pettyfer cast as Harry Osborne in the next Spiderman movie, then I think we might have the summer blockbuster that my dreams are made of–especially if it turns out that Harry Osborne’s backstory has been retconned to make him a secret male stripper. That’s doable, right? Right. Okay…it’s only possible in my dreams.