Some new additions but Web 3.0's no upgrade

Rating: 7/10 (28 April 2007)

Sam Raimi's Web version 3.0 proves that  like the increasingly shoddy sequels to Batman - when it comes to comic book villains, less is more. Really, does anyone remember anything that Two-Face and Poison Ivy actually did? After building his rollicking action empire with tight, one-on-one contests between our friendly neighbourhood hero and his nemeses, Raimi falls into the trap of taking Spider-Man 3 a villain too far. It has nothing to do with the CG qualities of either Sandman or Venom (they're as well-rendered as you'd expect from the next instalment of an $800million franchise). It's simply that the film introduces so many problems for Peter Parker to deal with, it doesn't fully focus on any.
On the verge of proposing to Mary Jane, Peter is so caught up in his own hype that he has become a self-absorbed prat. Outwardly, they're fine, but he is so busy enjoying the adulation and attention - hey, police chief's daughter Gwen Stacy, how YOU doin'? - that he's oblivious to any problems MJ might have.
And anyway, there's also some unfinished business with Harry 'Goblin Jr' Osborne, cocky photographer Eddie Brock (Topher Grace) is after his job at the Bugle, and convict Flint Marko (Thomas Haden Church) is now a much bigger problem than when he first escaped after having his DNA replaced with sand. The guy's a walking building site.
Then a black goo from outer space which feeds on human aggression (drug metaphor ahoy!) transforms Peter into a swaggering, greasy-fringed idiot - like a member of The Killers who's seen Saturday Night Fever too many times.
But his turn to the dark side is reflected in the spider-suit's cool new look which is later adopted by Brock when the terrible treacle turns him into Venom. Let's get ready for a tag-team rumble Needless to say, it all looks fantastic. But, for all its impressive, whiplash-inducing set-pieces, jokey interludes, cute cameos (including Bruce Campbell as a Pythonesque maitre d') and general vertiginous pizazz, the plot regularly loses momentum.
How many messages on commitment, redemption and doing the right thing does one film need? What's with the ridiculous climactic commentary from that TV reporter with the bad English accent and her geriatric, googly-eyed anchorman? Would Bryce Dallas Howard like to give me a call the next time she has this little to do in a movie? Like Spidey himself, Raimi appears to have gotten carried away by the success of his previous exploits. Webby 3.0 certainly gives you plenty of whiz-bang for your buck, but it doesn't get that spider sense tingling.