The greatest advance for mucuous since the booger.

Rating: Null/10 (19 May 2002)

The last few years have been tough for old-school Sam Raimi fans. It's not that he's disappeared - to the contrary, Raimi has been quite busy lately with some high-profile projects. Neither is it that those projects were crap. Well, `For Love of the Game' probably was. But `A Simple Plan' was a masterful change of pace from Raimi's usual ADHD-inflected style. Even `The Gift,' considerable flaws notwithstanding, was a beautiful evocation of mood and atmosphere. The problem is that the Sam Raimi of old has himself gone on extended leave. Over the years, he's gradually moved away from the manic energy and gleeful cheesiness that made `Darkman' and the `Evil Dead' movies so much fun (in particular, `Army of Darkness,' one of the greatest movies to be made since prehistoric man first picked up a camera).
It was all the more exciting, therefore, to hear that Raimi would be helming `Spider-Man' (pretty much the only news that could ease the disappointment that the `James Cameron to direct, Bruce Campbell to star' rumors were untrue). Such source material would seem rife with opportunities for moving object-cam shots and stupid, wiseass dialogue. Indeed, Raimi's fun gene does seem to have been reawakened by his latest project. In many ways, he's got the right idea of how to approach a `Spider-Man' film. Unfortunately, a combination of fanzine-level writing and silly costume design leave us with a `Spider-Man' that's less Marvel comics and more Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Tobey Maguire is a good choice for Peter Parker, the wimpy high school nerd who develops the fortuitous alter ego. While on a field trip to the Nuclear Spiders Lab, or wherever, Parker gets nipped by one of the little neon-colored nasties that escapes from its cage. As we all can attest from our own experiences with creature bites, superhuman powers are not far behind for Parker, including the power to shoot sticky mucilage from his wrists (creator Stan Lee made the wise decision in the original comic not to have him secrete silk from his ass). This, along with his newfound ability to scale walls, inspires him. Why not make a few bucks as an amateur wrestler? Alas, more pressing matters are soon vying for Parker's attention, transforming him from `the Human Spider' the wrestler into Spider-Man the superhero in the process. There's a green guy in a metal suit that's been flying around blowing things up, and he needs to be stopped. It's here that `Spider-Man' begins to let things spin out of control (no pun intended). Early on, Raimi has the patience to let Parker slowly discover and master his powers, deftly echoing more worldly teenage self-discoveries and rites of passage. But by the time Willem Dafoe's Green Goblin shows up, Raimi seems to be looking at his watch, wondering how he's going to pack everything into the running time. The Goblin turns out not to have any particular plan, other than to generally wreck stuff, and to say things like `nobody says no to me!' and `time to die!' Dafoe's uncanny resemblance to a chimpanzee, when not dressed as an evil head of broccoli, doesn't help matters. Then there's Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst). Poor Mary Jane. How could a character named after pot be so extraneous, so empty? Dunst bounces through no fewer than three men in `Spider-Man,' and is indeed helpless the few times she's away from them. By the end of the film, when she's finally realized - through a kiss - that the masked hero with the same build and voice as Peter Parker is, in fact, Peter Parker, and has confessed her love for the non-Amazing half of that dichotomy, Raimi has put in place the comic book ending, nearly line-for-line, that wrapped things up in `Darkman.' It's another indication of the director straining mightily for his roots, and being unable to grasp them firmly. Oh well - it's a step in the right direction, at least.