Coming to your
friendly neighbourhood multiplex a mere five years after the termination of the
successful Sam Raimi-helmed trilogy, this reboot of the Spider-Man franchise,
while sporting a new star (Andrew Garfield), new origin story, new villain and
new director (a guy named, I kid you not, Marc Webb), feels above all
overwhelmingly unnecessary. It also feels about 136 minutes long—which it is.
Yet again we get one of these superhero movies that feels obliged to include
the protagonist’s origin story, the development of his social conscience, the
introduction of a love interest, the introduction of a villain, the villain’s
origin story, the villain’s plot to destroy New York/the US/the planet, and the
villain’s undoing, all in one five-act mega-movie—the exact opposite of the
experience of reading a fleet, diverting comic book. Though it has its moments
of energy and excitement, The Amazing
Spider-Man is ultimately an exhausting experience, one of diminishing
returns, simultaneously over-stuffed with incident and far too compressed to
satisfyingly resolve half of the narrative threads it spins.
The element that’s always struck me
as novel about Spider-Man was the fact that before becoming a superhero Peter
Parker was basically an ordinary, somewhat nerdy teenager, a character most
comic readers could easily identify with. This Spider-Man, written by a trio of scenarists led by James Vanderbilt
(whose wildly variable filmography includes Darkness
Falls and Zodiac), divests Peter of
any such quotidian roots. Peter’s background is indeed more Amazing: before he disappeared Peter’s
dad (Campbell Scott) was involved is some secret project to splice various
genes to “create a world without weakness.” By the time that Peter, a talented
photographer and, we soon realize, a scientific genius, becomes a high school senior
he discovers dad’s hidden files and tracks down Dr. Curt Connors (Rhys Ifans),
dad’s old partner, who just happens to be the mentor of Gwen Stacey (Emma
Stone), the girl Peter’s in love with. Such Amazing
coincidences abound: Gwen’s dad (Dennis Leary) just happens to be the Chief of
Police, and, in a risibly contrived rehash of that already risible turning
point in the Spider-Man legend, Peter’s Uncle Ben (Martin Sheen) is
accidentally killed by the very convenience store robber Peter failed to
apprehend about 30 seconds earlier. (Vanderbilt and company refrain from
regurgitating the “With great power…” line.) Peter discovers his superpowers
after he sneaks into Connors’ high security laboratory (the words “BIOCABLE
DEVELOPMENT UNIT” appear ominously beside the door) and gets bitten by that
fateful radioactive arachnid.
Garfield’s fine so long as he
refrains from excess emoting (see Never
Let Me Go for a preview). Stone is a welcome presence, and not only because
of her thigh-highlighting outfits. Neither looks much like a teenager, but we
are in the realm of myth here. Not mythical enough however to forgive James
Horner’s overbearing score or such silly, extraneous detours such as the bit
where, despite the evacuation of Manhattan, city workers unite to help
Spider-Man more easily access stuff to attach his webs to. Or to keep us from
wondering why the Lizard (née Connors) decides to set up his laboratory in a
sewer. Though, oddly enough, Spidey’s nemesis is finally the movie’s most
sympathetic character, a sort of simplified version of Jeff Goldblum in The Fly. Connors’ ingestion of a
super-serum gives him back his missing arm and grants him the strength of ten
men, but in return makes him crazy, turns him into a lizard and takes away his
penis. Talk about cold(-blooded) comforts.
4 comments:
Well, this explains a lot. When I saw the preview I thought, why? And now I know that not even the director or screenwriters have the answer.
I did quite like Garfield in Red Riding 1973. One would hope that he's now made enough money with this that he can go back to interesting parts.
I think the why needn't be explained beyond the $$$$$$ that will soon be appearing next to the film's name when the grosses hit. Which is, you know, fine if the artists charged with the task of bringing some integrity to this thing are inventive and rigorous. But there's a pretty even balance of problems with the concept and execution here, even if the result is reasonably entertaining (if only for the first half or so).
I remember liking Garfield in Red Riding too. I especially remember his excellent hair. Come to think of it I also retain fond memories of his hair in Never Let Me Go. Perhaps he is an especially expressive hair actor. I'm just beginning to become leery of his sniffing around for opportunities to flip out on screen.
My memory of his hair from Red Riding was that it expressed even more clearly than his character did, "I am a cocky git." He does have such a very much lot of hair. I have a long and very much stalled piece of writing on hair in cinema -- a piece that I think about every once in a while when I see hair like Merida's in Brave or Michael Fassbender's in Prometheus. (And I'd previously thought of Fassbender's hair as unremarkable. I love being proved wrong.) I even wanted to write a long paragraph about how Brit Marling's hair in Sound of My Voice may have been the final straw that ultimately ruined the film for me, but I wasn't entirely sure my argument made enough sense.
Isn't it somehow reassuring that not all of these huge summer blockbusters are too big to fail, critically at least? I was surprised to find I enjoyed Avengers as much as I did, since going in it felt like such a craven attempt to squeeze more money out of viewing audiences. And I do so love hating a big summer blockbuster.
Yes, you might have a higher tolerance for super hero movies than I do, so while I hope my thoughts on Spider-Man are useful they might not be a reliable way of predicting your own pleasure. (Especially for Emma Stone!)
Don't let go of that hair piece! Sounds to me like an excellent subject for your critical skills and wit. And be sure to make a note of Ellen Barkin's hair in the 1980s. Now that was one motherfucking mane!
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