Review: Plot tangled in ‘Spider-Man’s’ web

Geoff Carter

Friday, May 3, 2002 | 10 a.m.

"Spider-Man"

Grade: ***

Starring: Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, Willem Dafoe, James Franco and J.K. Simmons.

Screenplay: David Koepp.

Director: Sam Raimi.

Rated: PG-13 for stylized violence and action.

Running time: 121 minutes.

Movie times: http://www.vegas.com/movies/

The director of "Spider-Man," Sam Raimi, made one of the finest comic book movies I've ever seen: 1990's "Darkman." Reportedly written because Raimi couldn't obtain the rights to "The Shadow," "Darkman" has all the elements of a perfect comic book melodrama: a wronged scientist (played by Liam Neeson) who develops superhuman abilities as the result of an explosion; a heartbroken woman (Frances McDormand, Raimi's former roommate) who can't reach the hero, bent as he is on revenge; a gang of thugs with no compunction about killing innocents.

The fact that "Darkman" wasn't based on a comic made it all the more ideal: It had nothing to live up to.

"Darkman" was terrific, and a lot of people hated it. They prefer movies such as "Spider-Man," which sacrifices its taut story for explosions and a surfeit of computer-generated effects. No one pays nine bucks to watch a man work through his demons; they pay to see him play directly to them, and take out a city block through his actions. Throughout its first glorious half, "Spider-Man" relentlessly improves on "Darkman's" funky Freudianisms; I giggled with glee through much of it.

I couldn't say when exactly Hollywood asserted its occult hand, but by the end of the picture I felt somewhat cheated. Baby, where did our dark go?

To be fair, Raimi and screenwriter David Koepp have made a fine superhero picture which would have been sensational if they weren't confined to delivering a picture that could go on lunchboxes. And it borrows heavily from other comic book movies -- Tim Burton's "Batman" and Richard Donner's "Superman" especially -- but that's to be expected, considering the medium in which all three characters were conceived. Nobody becomes a comic book superhero because they have a loving home environment and want to give back to the community.

"Spider-Man's" story is familiar, and handily explained by its title. One day, while on a field trip to a science lab, geeky high school student Peter Parker (a remarkable performance by Tobey Maguire) is bitten by a "genetically-enhanced super-spider" while snapping pictures of his longtime crush, Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst). Parker goes home, brushes past his kindly aunt and uncle (Rosemary Harris and Cliff Robertson) and instantly falls asleep, only to awaken the next day with the abilities and proportionate strength of that juiced-up arachnid.

The way Maguire treats his discovery of these abilities makes "Spider-Man" worth watching twice. He runs up walls simply because he can, is wholly embarrassed when he shoots his first web (out of his wrist, just as DeNiro launches his pistol in "Taxi Driver") and gets into a cage-wrestling match with Randy Savage to raise money for a car.

Peter's Uncle Ben realizes what's happening to him -- "With great power comes great responsibility," he warns -- but Maguire doesn't heed his advice. As an indirect result, Uncle Ben is killed, and Peter grows up overnight, haunted by a chorus of demons. Even Batman didn't have it this bad.

In the meantime Raimi and Koepp develop the character of his nemesis, the Green Goblin (Willem Dafoe). By day a corporate shark named Norman Osborn, Dafoe turns into the Green Goblin without his knowledge; his demon has a very literal, very active nightlife. Adding to the confusion is the unfortunate fact that Osborn is the father of Peter's best friend Harry (James Franco), who in turn is dating Mary Jane, benefitting from Peter's trepidation in asking her out.

Raimi keeps the threads as loose as he can, but it's difficult when you're dealing with two movies at once -- the fatal flaw of every "origin" comic-book adaptation. You want to know how the hero lives with his abilities -- does he have web control, or what? -- but Hollywood demands a conflict. As a result, the villain is developed simultaneously and either draws attention away from the hero (Burton's "Batman") or is underwritten to the point that you don't know what exactly he wants.

Sadly, the latter course is followed here. Aside from the cliched "join forces with me" scene, you have no idea what the Green Goblin wants. Sure, he's crazy, but even mad geniuses want something, even if only to destroy life. By the time the first showdown between hero and villain rolls around, you wonder how it is that either is ready for the match. There should be at least a moment of wild bewilderment, but neither asks what the other is up to, and neither one tells.

Still, it's a great party. I loved J.K. Simmons' dead-on portrayal of Spidey-hating newspaper editor J. Jonah Jameson ("I'll send you something. Y'like meat? I'll send you some Christmas meat"). Dunst imbues Mary Jane with real feeling; you can easily see why Parker desires her, and is afraid of hurting her. And cameos by Raimi regulars Bruce Campbell and Lucy Lawless don't sail by unnoticed.

The second "Spider-Man" movie -- and there will be one, guaranteed -- should be the one to watch. By then the fearless and charismatic Maguire will own the role, and the filmmakers can take their time in spinning an artful and dangerous web around him. Considering the weight of responsibility placed upon them, Raimi and Maguire do well by "Spider-Man," but not even the friendly webslinger can throw a net over audiences accustomed to Hollywood overkill. To fight that evil they'd need "final cut," which even the Green Goblin doesn't have to give.