Peter Parker Can't Lose

The ballyhooed Spider-Man 3 spins a pretty, but flimsy, web.

by Drew Lazor

TRUE GRIT: The Wallcrawler (Tobey Maguire) sends granules of Sandman (Thomas Haden Church) flying. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

If Ben Parker is to be believed, power is the ultimate corruptor. And, since this parasite of a truism led to the downfall of the baddies in the first two chapters of Sam Raimi's Spider-Man series, it was only a matter of time before it sunk its fangs into our hero's unwavering scruples.

Dubbing Spider-Man 3 "dark" makes about as much sense as labeling its predecessors breezy beach reads � superhero flicks are rarely appropriate studies in mood. But then Raimi's never drawn us in with fancy plot devices. The 2002 original and its 2004 sequel succeeded based on the rumpled director's insistence that Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, is the protagonist, an allergic-to-attention geek who has begrudgingly come to terms with apprehension toward his alter ego.

The latest installment in the franchise, which Raimi co-wrote with brother/longtime collaborator Ivan, makes some giant visual leaps, but too-much-at-once plotting reveals its muddled seams. It's almost as if the director folded ideas for two separate films into one gargantuan studio project � not that far-fetched given his reluctance to commit to future sequels. (For what it's worth, co-star Kirsten Dunst's recently revealed desire to film a low-budget, Evil Dead-esque version "where Mary Jane has eight children" makes one hope Raimi reconsiders.) Though nominally effective as endgame, Spider-Man 3 isn't sure where or when it wants to begin.

Tobey Maguire has always excelled at making sure Peter's nagging insecurities never fully disappear, even when he slips on his suit. But the tension that before kept him and the citizenry from meshing is gone � he's now a full-blown celebrity. Armies of kids don blue-and-red smocks and cheer his swing-alongs; his patriotic-by-default mug is plastered on every paper on every newsstand. The city even throws him a World Series-caliber parade after he saves the police commissioner's coquettish daughter (a bleach-blond Bryce Dallas Howard), whom he then proceeds to kiss � hanging upside down, wouldn't you know � in front of his screaming fans and incredulous girlfriend, MJ (Dunst).

All of the adoration rams open the dopamine floodgates in Peter's head, causing him to act more like a pig than a selfless arachno humanoid. The change puts considerable strain on his complicated relationship with MJ, who's already reeling from her poorly received Broadway debut.

For all of Raimi's stainless kapows and kabooms, the love triangle connecting Peter, MJ and jilted orphan playboy/son of the Green Goblin Harry Osborn (James Franco) has long served as the series' dramatic bedrock. It's no different here, with loads of screen time dedicated to lip-quivering close-ups and self-reflective glances. Peter and MJ star-gaze in a giant web above Central Park; she later seeks solace in the form of omelettes and impromptu Twist sessions in Harry's kitchen. With so much of the well-over-two-hour running time farmed out to this sort of easy-spread minutiae, the construction of its numerous villains can't help but come off rushed.

That's not to say, however, that the bad guys aren't involved in some of the film's most outlandishly enjoyable segments. Early on, Spidey puts a seeking-vengeance-for-dad's-death Harry (as "New Goblin") in a coma after besting him in a barrel-rolling, Y-axis airborne battle that might be Raimi's most masterful action sequence to date. (How soon we forget the 17 consecutive zooms during the robot arm building scene in Army of Darkness.)

Elsewhere, Flint Marko (Thomas Haden Church), an escaped convict whose drafted-with-a-T-square jaw line pins him as the most comic-book-looking comic book character in recent memory, gets trapped in an atom smasher that pulverizes him into the Sandman. All the while, an unexplained (but clearly evil) goopy symbiote plummets to Earth from space, dyeing Spidey's suit and general demeanor black before bringing out the venomous worst in dickhead photographer Eddie Brock (Topher Grace). Their dastardly misdeeds � not to mention the climactic, him-or-them rumble that sprouts as a byproduct � don't disappoint as eye candy. It's just that, for a film that reportedly cost upward of $250 million, you'd think you'd get more consistent servings.

It's worth noting that the most memorable slices of cinema here come not just from muscular CGI but from jocular cameos and a colorful menagerie of eager background artists as well. Bruce Campbell's turn as a snitty French maitre'd lightens an otherwise droll will-they-break-up scene between Peter and MJ; Stan Lee's pop-in is so knee-slappingly self-aware that it's surprising he isn't wearing an "I INVENTED SPIDER-MAN � ASK ME HOW!" sandwich board. All the while, throngs of young, good-looking extras litter each outdoor scene, struggling to pretend they're not emotionally invested in what will inevitably be the year's biggest release. Audiences shouldn't have nearly as much trouble.

(drew.lazor@citypaper.net)

Spider-Man 3 | Directed by Sam Raimi | A Sony Pictures release