Spider-Man 3, 2007. Directed by Sam Raimi; written by Raimi and his brother Ivan, with help from Alvin Sargent. Starring Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco, Thomas Hayden Church, Topher Grace, Bryce Dallas Howard, Rosemary Harris, J. K. Simmons, Dylan Baker, Bill Nunn, Bruce Campbell, and, utterly wasted in five minute roles, the great James Cromwell and Theresa Russell.
Like a disease, this movie is everywhere.
PLOT SPOLIERS BELOW (DO YOU CARE?)
“Pardon me, pardon me… what are you going to see? You look educated, you wouldn’t eat food you found laying on the sidewalk, half chewed, would you? Look, look, look, this isn’t Spider-Man, it’s Spider-Man 3. This shit’s awful, it’s been done before, chewed up, digested, regurgitated. Oh, come on, ten year olds have heard much worse, and you know that.
“Look: this thing is long, man. Long! It’s like two-and-a-half hours long. Now stop and peer around you. There’s a world out here! Yeah, it’s cloudy and chilly, but, hey, if you really want fun, if you really want to waste your whole night away, why don’t haul junior here to see Grindhouse. He’ll learn a lesson that’s for certain! That’s a joke–what else is there? Let’s see: Fracture, Next (oh, Jesus), Blades of Glory (saw that? figures…), and Lucky You. Shit, Grindhouse isn’t even playing.
“Wait, has he read all the Harry Potters? Robert Louis Stevenson? Those things have actual plots! Characters that mean something! Spider-Man, well, it’s just plain stupid! I mean it’s all over the place! And it’s boring! Let me tell the kid something: you like romantic movies? Judging from that face I’d say no. Well, this film fancies itself a romance. And lady, it fails, oh how it fails.
“Fine. Waste your night. On your deathbed you’ll be beggin’ for these hours back!”
…
“Wow. I mean, wow. You two are here on a date. How old are you? Twenty-one and nineteen. You realize that you, at least, are old enough to drink. Do you drink? And yet you’re here to see, let me guess Spider-Man 3. Why may I ask?
“You guys are too young to take in this comic book shit. Did you read Spider-Man as kids? Wasn’t X-Men your generation’s meat? This is just awful stuff, you know. Especially now–they take this stuff way too seriously. This movie is 140 minutes long, and you know how much of that is dedicated to so-called character development? You know what that means don’t you. Don’t call me patronizing, you’re the one who’s going to see Spider-Man, I’m just the crack-pot.
“There’s not one, not two, not three, but four bad guys in this film. What the fuck is that all about?! One is a black goo that falls from outer space. And get this: it doesn’t go after Spidey, no, he coincidentally runs into the gunk. We just hit, what, seven, eight billion people on the planet, and this goo finds Spider-Man. It could have just as easily found Dick Cheney, and then you would have had a real movie. But there’s more coincidence: there’s this sand creature, a guy who also turns into a bad guy due to accidentally falling into a sand pit. It’s a top-secret pit that’s being atomized, or subparticalized, or some such crap. In any case, the sand fellow, Sandman I guess he’s called, who can be big or small and who can’t even pick up a ring but then again can throw whole cars, well, he’s the guy who killed Peter Parker’s uncle. Got that? It gets worse. Once he was a common thug, now he’s can level a city block. Only he doesn’t want to because he’s a good guy at heart. Boo-hoo.
“Of course, we get round three of the Green Goblin’s kid, Parker’s best friend, Harry, who this time gets klunked on the head and therefore forgets everything and is Parker’s pal again. For awhile. Then he gets mad again, and he won’t shut up about getting his revenge. So the movie goes back to the start of the series.
“Keeping up? Well, Parker wants to marry Mary Jane, only she’s a struggling actress, and he never listens, because he’s famous as Spider-Man, and busy, too. Plus, he gets a kiss from the suddenly sexy Bryce Dallas Howard. She was the girl in Lady in the Water and The Village, where she looked young and sick, and now she just looks, well, luscious.
“Do you really want your boyfriend gaping at her gams? Do you even know what gams are?
“Don’t go in yet! There’s no lines, you’ve got time! Listen, these relationships dominate this movie! There’s more talking in this fucking movie than a Robert Altman film! And you don’t even know who that fucker is, either, do you. Well, Altman was a God-damned bore, just like Raimi has become–this movie will kill your date. Run, run to the Edina and see The Valet for the love of God!”
…
“Pardon me, sir, you look like you’re seeing a movie… Spider-Man 3? Really. Sir, if you don’t mind, you look to be quite distinguished… are you a veteran of Korea, perhaps? The Big War? Not that old, eh? Well, I ask because, well, you’ve certainly seen your share of great entertainments, and I feel that it is my duty to warn you, as a respectful member of the younger generation, that Spider-Man royally sucks.
“Sir, sir, sir! Please. Look, shouldn’t I know better? Shouldn’t I be the one loving the comic book superhero? You grew up, undoubtedly, on great literature. What’s your favorite movie? Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? Interesting. OK, so I assume you’ve seen The Godfather, probably at the theaters? Who didn’t love that movie! Me, too! And the second! Woof. That was something else. Oh, and the third… what? Yeah, it was boring, that’s right. Well… same thing here…
“It’s exactly the same. A few cheap thrills. Actors phoning in their roles. Same jokes, now stale. That city editor yelling at everyone, Peter Parker trying to make ends meet, Mary Jane trying to make ends meet. This time, though, instead of one fascinating character, like Doc Ock, we get four uninteresting characters, one of which is a black goop that first gets Spider-Man to wear his hair like he’s impersonating Adolph Hitler and walk down the streets like Barry Gibb.
“I know it sounds funny, but you won’t be laughing when you see it. You’ll be wondering when this fucking thing is going to end.
“Oh, come on, you grew up in the 60s, you’ve heard the language. Look, this film wastes everything–they’ve got two great actors who’re given about five minutes each: James Cromwell, who was the old guy in Babe and Theresa Russell. The Sandman is Thomas Hayden Church, you know, the jerk from Sideways. I thought you’d seen that movie.
“I’m asking you: do you want to have fun with a comic-book movie? This isn’t it. It’s serious. Harry Osborn, Parker’s pal and the son of Goblin, dies at the end and tears well up. People fall in and out of love. It’s as maudlin as Titanic without the benefit of Kate Winslet’s naked breasts.
“I’m crazy? If you see this movie after all I’ve told you, you’re the one who’s mental!”
…
“Stop. Please stop. Don’t you get it, people! If you see this movie and it’s a hit, it will tell Sam Raimi–who used to be imaginative and cool–that we will pay him for crap like this! It will keep theaters like this from showing good movies! It spells doom!
“You’re gonna call security? This theater doesn’t even have security. Why do you think I’m here!”
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