As the web still turns

Noel Vera

Sam Raimi's "Spider-Man 2" is, as the title suggests, more of the
same, only better--more digital effects, more web-slinging, more
angst.

I'd said that the original "Spider-Man" worked largely because it
hewed to Steve Ditko and Stan Lee's original formula: that of a soap
kicked up a notch by a judicious sprinkling of super-powers. I'd said
Raimi was the perfect director to do this kind of franchise, mainly
because his earlier pictures (the "Evil Dead" movies, "Darkman") were
such exuberant examples of comic-book filmmaking--"Evil Dead 2" was a
horror comedy but somewhere in all the chaos emerged a kind of hero
(less one hand, but the chainsaw makes up for it nicely); his equal
parts cheesy and gothic "Darkman" was a step closer, a dark knight
bent on revenge and the perfect skin formula to replace his burnt
face.

It's too bad Raimi relegated the "Darkman" sequels to lesser
directors who carelessly trashed it; the original had a
disreputability, a taste for R-rated violence that gave the bright
comic-book colors a lurid charge. "Spider-Man 2" in comparison is as
wholesome as malted milk balls and about as sweet, though Raimi does
manage to give the movie some crispness, no small thanks to the
dialogue, which Michael Chabon ("The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier
and Clay") worked on, and which Alvin Sargent (who did a serviceable
adaptation of "Ordinary People") whipped into a serviceable script.
The jokes come fast and light, and some of the New York touches are
hilariously right--when Spider-Man tries to save a runaway train and
fails, a smart-aleck asks: "any more bright ideas?"

(For the record and just to get this off my chest, some of the
details seem hilariously wrong too--I mean, an elevated subway in
Manhattan (and in fact parts of that sequence was shot in Chicago)? A
girl walks across the street and gets a taxicab, just like that? But
I'm nitpicking)

And if Raimi as director is perfect, the franchise is almost
unthinkable without Toby Maguire in the title role (Actually, Jake
Gyllenhaal was at one point poised to take over, and I do think he
would have fitted into the role, albeit in a different key--but he
didn't, it's Maguire, and he runs away with it and makes it his own).
Perhaps the movie's best passages are of New York City bearing down
hard and heavy on poor Maguire, and Maguire reacting to all the abuse
with his slightly hurt, wide-eyed newborn chick look. It isn't as if
Maguire is sexless--women respond to him, from J. Jonah Jameson's
secretary down to the landlord's daughter, they want to pick him up
and cuddle him, he looks so helpless and bewildered. Maybe the
funniest moment in the picture is when Spider-Man is forced to take
the elevator to the ground floor, and an admiring yuppie asks were he
got his costume. "I made it," our protagonist replies, then adds
confidentially: "actually, it's kinda itchy." Fearsome superhero with
the soft-spoken voice of Toby Maguire, kvetching to a man of the
street: I doubt if you're ever going to get this kind of understated
wit in any other big-budget summer blockbuster (other than the
latest "Harry Potter," or "Hellboy").

Actually, Maguire's presence leads to my chief gripe about this
picture--whenever Peter Parker puts on his Spider-Man mask, a little
life leaks out; you need that little-boy-lost look to emotionally
anchor all the superpowered shenanigans and big special effects, and
Raimi still hasn't quite solved this problem. The battle scenes are
the best that money can buy, I'm sure, and a big improvement on the
first picture's, but there's just not enough, well, personality to
them. Raimi's special effects in the "Evil Dead" movies were full of
personality, mainly because Raimi had almost no money; they had a
gritty, hand-cranked quality, as if made in someone's basement, and
this gave them a special charm. Raimi tries his best: he makes more
use of Spider-Man's web-slinging--his unique weapon, so to speak, a
nicely sublimated metaphor for nocturnal emissions (too bad we don't
get any masturbation jokes in this sequel, unless you count the times
when he can't seem to, uh, do it)--and he keeps ripping up mask and
costume, as if trying to tear them off. What works best, though, is
keeping the super-battles to a minimum, which Raimi does, and making
the most of the Peter Parker scenes, even ringing variations on the
problems Parker encounters when faced with a crisis without his
costume.

It helps that Spider-Man has a much more impressive opponent in Dr.
Otto Octavius (a glowering Alfred Molina)--"Dock Ock," as Jameson
nicknames him. Dock Ock doesn't quite achieve the grandeur that
Molina's glowering expression promises--for one thing the arms,
operating under an artificial intelligence, partly controls the
doctor, not he them, so you don't get a full portrait of evil (which
requires free will, of course)--but those same arms are his best
assets imagewise, serpentine monsters that snap and clack
malevolently, as if they had a mind of their own (which in fact they
do). It also helps that the supporting cast has more to do--J.K.
Simmons as the irascible J. Jonah Jameson has more time onscreen,
always a good thing; Rosemary Harris as the indestructible Aunt May
is given a few astringent lines; and Kirsten Dunst as Mary Jane
Watson is delectable as ever. I've a problem with James Franco, who
seems overqualified to play Harry Osborn; I can't quite believe in
his hatred for the webslinger (which is borne of a misunderstanding
anyway) and I suspect Franco doesn't either--his "I hate Spider-Man"
mantra has gotten mechanical and dull. His character does go through
a few final twists, however; hopefully Franco gets a more central--
and crucial--role in the next sequel.

Also have a problem with Danny Elfman's music, which pretty much runs
through his rather limited repertoire. I thought his scores for Tim
Burton's "Batman" movies were perfect--gloomy and grand but with a
bouncy comic-book undercurrent that gave an interesting contrast--but
he's been doing practically the same concept for all the superhero
movies he's worked on, only with different melodies, and I just don't
think gloomy and grand is appropriate to "Spider-Man;" the
corny "Spider-Man" animated series theme song a street singer warbles
in several scenes seem to fit much better. "Batman" and "Batman
Returns"--still, for my money, the best of the comic-book adaptations-
-were pop opera; the "Spider-Man" movies are soap opera. Elfman
should know the difference.

(First appeared in Businessworld 7/2/04)

(Comments? Email me at noelbotevera@...)