Spider-Man 2 (2004, Sam Raimi) 79

Unfortunately, it's not The Amazing Spider-Man that I hoped (and that seemingly everyone wants to believe it is); more like The Perfectly Acceptable Spider-Man. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but I can't help feel disappointed.

The biggest problem (and the one I'm sure that everyone will disagree with) is that Molina's Dr. Octopus just isn't as compelling as Dafoe's Green Goblin. This was underlined by Dafoe's brief cameo, which was electrifying in comparison. Sure, Molina's dinner scene is great, but once he becomes a villain, he loses all of his personality, seemingly drained from him and siphoned into the tentacles. And the tentacles don't have a thing on Dafoe. They could have; although I think the tentacles have some sort of messed-up AI in them, it looks to me that it's really Octavius' suppressed dark side, in the Jungian sense, that's really in control. But there isn't a lot in the movie to support this idea, so Dr. Octopus ends up just being a mindless Big Bad, like the swarms of vampires in Blade II. I mean, Molina never gets any lines as perfectly comic-booky as Dafoe's "We'll meet again, Spider-Man!", and that's a shame.

What made the first movie so spectacular (heh heh) was that it was the first time since perhaps Superman that the notion of super-heroes are taken... not so much seriously as respectfully. This was demonstrated in the first movie in what I imagine is the most derided scene, the rooftop conversation between the Green Goblin and a paralyzed Spider-Man. Visually, it's ridiculous -- two grown men in silly-looking skin-tight outfits, their faces completely obscured, having a serious discussion about the responsibility of power. It was certainly jarring the first time I saw it. But later, I realized it was probably brilliant, for it forces us to acknowledge that, at their core, super-heroes are ridiculous. They are stories about men in costumes, beating each other up. It's a point that movies like X-Men, with their cool black leather and persecution subtext, and Unbreakable, with its solemnity, and Batman, with its wacko, Langian, artificial cityscape, try so very hard to avoid. These movies are afraid of this essential truth, afraid of looking silly, working hard to make sure we take them seriously. Spider-Man embraces the inherent goofiness of the concept, and finds a kind of freedom and joy within it, something denied these other films.

But Spider-Man 2 feels like a step backwards in this respect. It feels a need to demonstrate its "real movie" bona-fides by hitting us over the head with its "we all need heroes" theme, the nadir being the completely unneccessary Uncle Ben dream sequence (nice to see Cliff Robertson again, though). Shockingly, a lot of critics think this makes it "deeper" or more "character-oriented". No, it just makes it longer.

Pardon the "a lot of critics" line; I was temporarily possessed by Armond White. (It happens.) But in the overflowing praise this movie has received, it seems like the first movie wasn't entirely accepted or trusted.

Two things, though. First, the ending overturns a lot of conventions in super-hero stories, and it forces the Spider-Man 3 writers to be very creative. They're kind of painted into a corner, and I can't wait to see how they get out of it. Second, the train scene is truly awesome, worth sitting through Aunt May's monologue for. It ends with a moment similar to the first's "You mess with New York, you mess with us!" bit, which always gives me goosebumps, only ten times more powerful. It ultimately says more in pictures than a thousand thematically-relevant speeches ever could.

Where we saw it: film | We deign to rate it: outta 100
Posted by kza at 01:55 AM | Comments (5)