3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for sci-fi action and violence, and mild profanity
By Derrick Bang
It’s both ironic and yet
appropriate that this newest incarnation of Spider-Man — let’s call it Spider-Man 3.0 — works best when young
Peter Parker is out of costume.
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| Try as he might, Peter (Tom Holland) can't seem to make things work properly ... either in his personal life, or as the web-slinging would-be hero, Spider-Man. |
As originally conceived by writer
Stan Lee and artist Steve Ditko, way back in 1962, Peter was an angst-ridden
high school outcast: a nerd long before that word became a fashionable
descriptor. Eternally abused by campus tormentor Flash Thompson, ignored by all
the cool kids, Peter took solace from his scientific curiosity and the
protective embrace of home life with his beloved Uncle Ben and Aunt May.
British actor Tom Holland — so powerful
as the eldest son forced to help his family cope with a tsunami’s aftermath, in
2012’s The Impossible — persuasively
nails this all-essential aspect of Peter’s personality. He has a ready smile
that falters at the faintest slight, real or imagined; he’s all gangly limbs
and unchecked, hyperactive eagerness. Peter frequently doesn’t know how to
handle himself, because he doesn’t yet possess a strong sense of what his
“self” actually is.
That said, director/co-scripter
Jon Watts’ update of Peter gives the lad a firmer social grounding that he
possessed in all those early Marvel comic books. He’s a valued member of his
school’s academic decathlon squad, where he’s routinely thrust alongside
teammates Flash (Tony Revolori), crush-from-a-distance Liz (Laura Harrier) and
the aloof, slightly mysterious Michelle (Zendaya, the effervescent star of TV’s
engaging K.C. Undercover).
And — oh, yes — Peter is a-bubble
with enthusiasm over the secret he cannot share with anyone: his recent trip to
Berlin, supposedly as a science intern for Stark Enterprises, but where he
actually joined Iron Man and other super-powered associates and went mano a mano against Captain America
(recent back-story details supplied via a clever flashback).
Impetuously assuming that he’ll
therefore be made a member of the Avengers, Peter is chagrined when days and
weeks pass without a word from Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) or his
right-hand man, Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau). I mean, Spidey deflected Captain
America’s shield, right? What the
heck is Tony waiting for?
Retrieving stolen bicycles and
helping little old ladies may establish cred as “your friendly neighborhood
Spider-Man,” but it hardly stacks up against saving the world from
super-powered bad guys. Peter chafes at being abandoned on the sidelines, and
thus makes the mistake that Stark anticipated.
Wholly contrary to the essential
divide between civilian and costumed life, Peter begins to employ his alter-ego
as a crutch: a means to enhance his social status.
“But I’m nothing without the costume,” he eventually wails, in genuine
torment, to Tony.
“If that’s true,” Tony replies,
“then you don’t deserve it.”
Mind you, this isn’t the costume
that Lee and Ditko envisioned, back in 1962. Quite the opposite: This is a
hyper-enhanced, computer-laced battle suit developed by Stark Industries, and this
is where Watt’s film goes off the rails.
Because this isn’t Spider-Man;
it’s a wall-crawling, web-spinning Iron Man with skin-tight armor.
Vulnerability in the costume also is
an essential part of Spider-Man’s appeal, and this super-suit demolishes any
semblance of weakness. This is Spider-Man,
for goodness’ sake; he’s not supposed to be as powerful and/or invulnerable as
Thor.
Suspension of disbelief also
takes a major hit here. While one can imagine all sorts of nifty-gee-whiz
gadgetry built into Iron Man’s bulky suit, cramming identical tech into
Spidey’s skin-tight threads does more than raise an eyebrow. And Peter’s
ongoing dialog with the suit’s AI — dubbed Karen (and voiced maternally by
Jennifer Connelly) — doesn’t work at all, particularly when “she” starts giving
him dating tips.
That’s the major problem with
this newest interpretation of Spider-Man: It’s a kitchen-sink movie. Watts and
five (!) credited co-writers have thrown all sorts of stuff against the wall,
in a manner that feels increasingly haphazard. Some of it works; some of it
doesn’t. The result is as wildly uneven as Peter’s behavior.
Okay, we get that he’s a
teenager, cursed with the lack of impulse control typical of kids his age, and
burdened further by an inferiority complex that prompts over-compensation. But
his careless disregard for potential civilian casualties, as this adventure
ramps into perilous territory, isn’t merely thoughtless; it’s downright
criminal, and puts a serious dent in
our ability to view him sympathetically.
It was one thing when Spiderman
1.0 (Tobey Maguire, back in 2002) unwittingly allowed his Uncle Ben to die, as
established by comic book lore. That horrific crisis drove the iconic message
home — “With great power, comes great responsibility” — and put Peter on the
path toward conscientious maturity.
One gets the impression that this
Peter might level an entire city, without grasping that all-important concept.
He needs to be spanked and sent to his room without supper.
Additionally, Holland’s Spider-Man
is out-classed by the villain of the piece: Adrian Toomes (Michael Keaton), the
hard-working, blue-collar owner of the salvage company awarded the contract to collect
the alien items and weaponry still left in the wreckage of that cataclysmic
battle between Iron Man, Captain America, Thor et al and those nasty extraterrestrial invaders (see 2012’s The Avengers).
It’s a lucrative gig, but one
that has left Adrian financially stretched ... and therefore looking at
bankruptcy, when Stark’s people swoop in — headed by the condescending Anne
Marie Hoag (Tyne Daly, in a pointless cameo) — as agents of the government’s
new Department of Damage Control (DODC), and take over the entire business.
Introducing Adrian as a
disenfranchised American infuriated over being marginalized by uncaring
politicians and “rich guys” is ingeniously topical, and Keaton steals the film
with his character’s subsequent descent into tightly wound vengeful fury. And
he has the means to indulge it: One truck-load of alien contraband goes
overlooked by Hoag’s arrogant minions, giving Adrian and his tech colleague the
ability to, ah, exploit the stuff.
And, so, Adrian and his crew
subsequently provide for their families in the only way that circumstances have
allowed: They become mercenaries, hijacking DODC trucks in order to obtain
additional exotic alien tech, repurposing such loot into weapons subsequently
sold on the black market. Along the way, Keaton gets the best one-liners, and
rides herd over his guys with a series of memorable double-takes and dead-eyed
stares.
Oh, yes: Adrian also develops a
winged super-suit and adopts a nefarious identity as the Vulture. (In fairness
— thankfully — this film barely employs that moniker.)
Ground-level, smash-and-grab bank
robbers suddenly armed with blue-rayed weapons of mass destruction can’t help
attracting the attention of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and we’re
off to the races.
So, what works, and what doesn’t?
The film’s most sensational
sequence — a true nail-biter, set within and without the Washington Monument —
doesn’t even involve the Vulture. Alternatively, the biggest misfire is a furious
and truly ludicrous melee that takes place aboard the Staten Island Ferry. I
don’t care how much cross-hatched webbing is employed; a vessel thus damaged
would sink — quickly — like a stone. And we’re left to imagine how many
passengers are injured, maimed or even killed along the way.
It’s therefore odd, in passing, that
this film’s Spider-Man never seems to suffer public contempt or ridicule for
his property-damaging and citizen-threatening antics. (This re-boot dispenses
with cranky Daily Bugle editor J. Jonah Jameson, and his tedious anti-Spidey
crusade.)
Having Peter accidentally reveal
his alter ego to best friend Ned (Jacob Batalon) makes for a very funny single
scene, but Batalon grievously overplays his character’s subsequent fan-boy
enthusiasm and careless disregard for the need to keep this secret. Indeed, Ned becomes quite tiresome for a bit. Fortunately, he settles down and becomes
an invaluable ally — in his words, “the guy in the chair” — who helps his buddy
at key moments.
The AI (Karen) in Spidey’s suit
is a one-joke disaster carried to insufferable extremes. On the other hand, the
mild romantic tension established by the dual presence of Liz and Michelle is
captivating, particularly when the latter uncorks a personal detail that’ll
prompt a smile from longtime Marvel Comics readers.
Chris Evans makes a couple of
quite amusing cameos as Captain America, and it’s fun to see Gwyneth Paltrow’s
Pepper Potts pop up for a few brief (but key) seconds. Downey, as always, is a
welcome presence as both Tony Stark and Iron Man; his appearances also are
short, but well placed.
Marisa Tomei is a warm, sensitive
and adorably sexy Aunt May (the latter quality a source of embarrassment for
her nephew). Donald Glover also is memorable as a small-time crook who has an
unexpectedly candid — and beneficial — chat with Spider-Man.
Michael Giacchino’s vibrant
orchestral score is suitably suspenseful and exhilarating, and — again —
longtime fans will appreciate how the title theme instrumentally riffs the Paul
Francis Webster/Robert Harris anthem from the 1967 cartoon show. (“Is he
strong? Listen, bud: He’s got radioactive blood.” And so forth.)
On the other hand, visual effects
supervisor Janek Sirrs fumbles a bit with Spidey himself; many of the
wall-crawling and web-slinging antics clearly are CGI, and lack the presence or
“solidity” that seemed more authentic with Maguire and Andrew Garfield. As
well, Spidey’s effort to save the crippled Staten Island Ferry is a poor echo
of Maguire’s much more dramatic and emotionally satisfying rescue of a subway
train in 2004’s Spider-Man 2.
All of these shortcomings are
down to the aforementioned uneven script and an ill-prepared director whose
only two previous features — 2014’s Clown,
and 2015’s Cop Car — were no more
than undistinguished blips on the cinematic radar. (I can’t imagine how Watts drew this assignment.)
It’s a shame that Favreau limited his participation to the supporting
appearance as Happy Hogan, because — as the director of Iron Man and the recent (somewhat) live-action Jungle Book — he’d obviously have made a much more satisfying dish
from these ingredients.
Nice
as it is, to see Spidey join the rest of the gang in the Marvel movie
franchise, his next solo outing will need more disciplined handling.
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