So by now you’ve probably already seen my grade and you’re thinking, “alright Joel seriously needs to reconsider his movie priorities, because I heard that Pirates 3 royally sucked.”
Whether or not your actually thinking that has no effect on the review, but if you’d grant me all of the five minutes it takes to read my ramblings you’ll see that this movie is a little different than most for a number of reasons, and while I’ve graded it highly, I can more or less help you predict what you would grade it if you were to see it.
It’s important to recognize a couple key things about this movie. First and foremost it’s a summer movie, which may not give it license to be horrible, but it does mean that they can lower the amount of deep intellectual issues and up the amount of great special effects.
Also important to remember is that we’re talking about the sequel, to the sequel of a movie based on a ten minute Disneyland ride. I for one had lower than the worst of expectations for the first film in this series, and perhaps that was why when I saw it I liked it so much. The plot was very well thought out, the script was funny, and Johnny Depp went from indie favorite to international superstar thanks to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.
The last, and arguably most important thing, to remember is the plot of Pirates 2. I hadn’t watched it since the theaters and I admit there were a couple times in this one when I had to do some serious thinking to recollect which characters were with which others, what they were after, which other characters they knew and/or had attempted to kill, imprison, or marry.
Pirates 3 gives absolutely no wiggle room for the people who don’t remember the previous movie’s plot, it picks up where it left off and continues to twist and convolute the story until it is virtually unrecognizable. I, for one, didn’t think this was a bad thing. I may just willingly watch “Transformers” (the cinematic equivalent of suicide) before I bemoan a summer theme park ride third installment for having too much plot, seriously.
Though it was tricky in a couple spots, I managed to keep the plots more or less in order and saw the whole story arc for what it was by the time the credits rolled. I’m not all together that bright so I’m thinking, if I can do it, so can anyone else. Except kids perhaps, but I don’t know how much of a little kids movie this is, considering the noticeable higher number of rather graphic violence, for a PG-13, and sexual innuendoes.
I’ll not even begin to tell you the story, except to say that it follows all the characters from the first two, as well as many more who are introduced, as they travel through The Arctic, Purgatory, Singapore, and of course the Caribbean, in a large scale clash between pirates and the government of Great Britain.
Here’s the part that will, perhaps, help you decide if this is the movie for you. More or less, in movie franchises as in math, two points define a line. This sounds sketchy, I’m sure, and indeed there are examples of this system not working, but it works here. I really liked the first Pirates, I’d even go so far as to say I loved it, it was a shameless piece of pop culture but who cares. As I listed before, it had many strong qualities.
The second one, I thought, was also a great movie. I thought it expanded the story and the characters and was engaging and all that good stuff. I gave it a solid A because it was as fine a sample of big budget summer thrills as movie goers are likely to find. Some people didn’t like it as much.
Now the way it works is this. For the people who gave Pirates 1 an A, and Pirates 2 a B, they would be most likely to give Pirates 3 a C, on account of the fact that it continues in the same vein of plot changes and developments that those movie goers might not have liked.
I know this is like the most ridiculous little system ever, but I think it’s true. If the first had an A, and the second had a C, than the third would most likely receive an F. It’s like those IQ tests where they ask you what comes next in the sequence.
You mustn’t think that I grade Pirates 3 as I do merely because it follows a pattern; it just works out that way because of the nature of the movies. Pirates 3 wraps up all the stories, in ways I couldn’t have predicted, and with the exception of two absolutely cornball scenes that ought to have been cut, as well as the presence of Orlando Bloom (a blemish on any movie no matter how good), I had an absolutely smashing time watching this movie.
The novelty has worn off, but the adventurous scope of the movie is still there. Johnny Depp, Bill Nighy, and this movie’s greatest attribute Geoffrey Rush, are all excellent in their roles, and the supporting characters are colorful and fun as usual. The action scenes are still generously enhanced with comedic mayhem, and the movie maintains the sense that it’s sort of making fun of itself as it goes along.
If you hated the first, and/or the second, don’t see the third because you won’t like it. I loved both predecessors, and call me shallow, easy to please, or sleep deprived (that one even I won’t deny), I loved it all the third time around.

A

Beauty and the Beast

After that brief stint with "Shrek 3," I'm back to working on my list of favorite movies. Having recently re-watched Beauty and the Beast for the first time in years, I decided that I'd do that one next. Deciding which Disney movies are the best is a tricky business, especially when you start including the Pixar movies, live action movies, and Japanese imports. None of that really matters because Beauty and the Beast is the best one of them all. I used to consider it equaled by The Incredibles, but as I said I watched Beauty and the Beast again recently and rethought that tie. Arguably Disney's most famous genre is the category of movies that deal with Princesses. Cinderella, Snow White, and Belle married into the title, while the likes of Aerial, Aurora and Jasmine were born into royalty, but that's not really important. The point is, most of Disney's most famous heroines are Princesses, and most of them are pretty much the same. They want to be free to see the world and all that, and they usually fall in love with a Prince over the course of a dance or whatever. As I've pointed out before, Belle is not the typical Disney heroine, just as the Beast is not the typical Disney Prince. As anyone who's anyone knows, the Beast was once a prince who was selfish and conceited and so an enchantress in disguise tested him and, finding him lacking, she put a spell on him so that unless he learned to love and be loved in return before the petals of a rose were all wilted, he would be stuck as a beast forever. Belle is the daughter of an inventor, not exactly glamorous, and she buries herself away in books because she doesn't fit in with her community. Belle's father is present, which is more than we can say for most Disney fathers, and it appears he raised her alone for there is no mention of her lack of a mother. Anyway, he's captured by the Beast and Belle takes his place as prisoner. The rest of it more or less writes itself. I think it's just grand that Belle and the Beast start off on such a bad foot, they eventually fall in love of course, but it's nice to see that there are reasons for them to fall in love, and they aren't all based on how good looking he or she is. The music is great, possibly the best Disney soundtrack ever, specifically "Be Our Guest" and "Beauty and the Beast" both of which are classics and both of which are staged flawlessly in the movie. There's really not a lot more I can say about the movie, except that it's got the most real emotional force of any Disney movie, and it doesn't shy away from having evil villains that get what's coming to them in the end. They really couldn't have made this movie any better, and even fifteen years after its release it is as enchanting as it's ever been. It's too bad that Walt Disney never saw this because, though I don't personally know him, I imagine that this is the sort of movie he dreamed about making. It's animated, but it's as good as, if not much better than, any live action version could ever be.

A+

Shrek The Third

Of all the cheap movie ploys, and there are many, one of the ones I hate the most is a redeemable villain. Call me old fashioned, or just plain hateful, but if someone is going to cause so much crap that a movie has to be made about setting it straight, that person can’t just turn over a new leaf in the end and all of the sudden be a good guy. They don’t call it the classic struggle between good and confused good that does wrong but eventually comes around.
“Shrek the Third” doesn’t just have one redeemable villain, it has dozens; imagine my intense displeasure during the final fifteen minutes. I will make an exception to my rule, and that is that a redeemable villain is acceptable as long as they die.
Can you imagine Darth Vader renouncing the dark side and then joining up with Luke, Leia for years of fun family times? No, it just doesn’t work that way. Unfortunately Shrek hasn’t even got the spine to kill the main villain.
It wasn’t such an issue in the first Shrek, which remains to be the best of the three. As I recall Lord Farquaad was eaten by the dragon in the end. Nowadays the studio execs are too afraid to let their movie have a bite. That’s the root of the problem with this latest “Shrek” installment; it’s been castrated.
Gone are the barbed jokes at Disney’s expense, and gone are the innuendos that floated so innocently over kids’ heads but kept the adults entertained. The soundtracks for the first two movies were awesome, this one is barely memorable. The whole affair is sappy, working way too hard for a worn out message that it doesn’t even deliver all that convincingly.
The first “Shrek” was a rather simple story. He was an ogre whose swamp was infested, so he went to the king and in order to get what he wanted he had to go rescue a girl. He and the girl fell in love and they got to live happily ever after, or anyway for the next three years until the sequel was out.
“Shrek 2” surprised most people because it didn’t have to bank on the success of its predecessor. It had a plot, this time about the family related repercussions of the first film’s events, clever scripting, and extensive pop culture references. It wound up becoming the highest grossing comedy and animated feature domestically and worldwide, and DreamWorks was quick to announce plans for a third and fourth installment.
I, for one, was glad to hear of “Shreks” 3 and 4 because I figured if they could do it right the second time, they could probably pull it off again. I was wrong, well sort of anyway. It’s not that they couldn’t have made number three good; it’s just that they didn’t. They got lazy, and decided that the same old shtick would suffice.
The story is all about Shrek’s midlife crisis. Fiona’s pregnant and the king is dead so Shrek might have to take the throne unless he can bring back the only other heir, Arthur Pendragon. Arthur doesn’t want to be king, an attitude they try to explain with some conversation about an absent father. I thought Disney had the monopoly on that family situation, but apparently even if Shrek’s not going to mock the house of mouse they have no qualms about copying its most used story element.
While Shrek’s off bringing back the boy king, Prince Charming decides that he will take the kingdom by force with the help of every fairy tale villain who was denied a happy ending. Witches, and monsters, and captain hook all join his cause and lead an attack on Far Far Away which results in Fiona and all the fairy tale princesses being locked away until they decide that they want to break out. Why they wait so long is a mystery to me, I’m thinking it was supposed to be funny when the Queen head butts her way through a stone wall, it’s just that no one was laughing.
There is, of course, a showdown once Shrek finally returns and just as all hope is almost lost, in comes teen Arthur with a message about being who you want to be, and all of the sudden the villains are all content to be good.
That’s it, that’s the whole movie, and I wish I could say that the shallow plot was livened up by lots of hilarious little jokes, but really there are only a few laughs to be had and they’re nothing compared to the first two movies. The first and second “Shrek” were the kinds of movies you could watch over and over again, in the same day if you had nothing better to do, and they kept on entertaining. “Shrek the Third” was barely passable entertainment the first time around. As for repeated viewings, don’t make me laugh.

C

The Wizard of Oz

This is my 100th review, and I figure there's no more deserving movie than this, the first movie I ever officially called my favorite. I mean honestly, the first time I ever declared a movie as my favorite, it was The Wizard of Oz. We didn't own it, as I recall, but Grandma did, and I must have watched it over there a million times. I feel I must point out that The Wizard of Oz is no longer my favorite; it was replaced by Star Wars, which was replaced by The Matrix, which was in turn replaced by Kill Bill, which was forced to share that position with Casablanca. I know it's more or less worthless to say that my favorite movie is a tie, but if a guy can't let two perfect movies share that spot than you might as well paint our flag red and give me a hammer and sickle, because that would be communism I tell you! Come to think of it, I suppose the whole idea of "sharing" would probably be more in line with communism realistically, but since when has communism been realistic... and since when has any of this had to do with The Wizard of Oz? I suppose I got a little but off track there, no big deal, I'll try to focus from here on out. Where were we before the digression? Oh, right, my favorite movie. So yeah, even though it no longer holds the top spot, it'll always be the first, kind of like the first person you ever kissed; maybe you don't end up marrying them, but there will always be the memory of those butterflies violently assaulting your stomach, know what I mean? I never actually read any of the Oz books, but in my defense I've only ever had a few people really tell me they were all that good, whereas this is one of the most cherished of all movies, by the general community of cinephiles I mean, not just by me. And why wouldn't it be, it's got one of Hollywood's finest songs, it's got universal themes and therefore universal appeal, and it's got a story that just begs to be put into Technicolor. I swear that after the bleak introduction in black and white, we appreciate the beautiful saturated color as much now as anyone could ever have done in the days of its premier. I'm going to assume everybody out there knows it, but for the record, the plot revolves around Dorthy, a Kansas farm girl who is carried, along with her house, over the rainbow by a twister. During touchdown in the land of Oz she kills the Wicked Witch of the East, takes the witches ruby slippers, and in doing so makes herself the enemy of the witch's sister, the Wicked Witch of the... wait for it... East. I'm not making fun, the witch (whose green skin and flying monkeys are among the most memorable elements of my own childhood film viewing experiences) is a grand antagonist who does her best to reclaim her late sister's ruby slippers, threating the life of Dorthy and (I'm writing this review in Ashland so this next bit is just LOADS worse!) her little dog too. All Dorthy wants is to get home so, on the advice of Glinda the good witch, she follows the Yellow Brick Road to the Emerald City where the Wonderful Wizard of Oz is meant to help get her home. Along the way she meets The Scarecrow, The Tin Man, and The Cowardly Lion. Apparently back in 1939 it was uproarious that Rhett Butler said damn, but a young innocent and thoroughly defenseless girl traveling with three clearly shoddy backwoods type men was no big deal, well I guess she had Toto, who as we all know from Miss Gulch, was the biting type. I digress. The point is that before the film concludes with its final segment back in black and white, Dorthy learns that "there's no place like home," one of cinema's most old fashioned lessons, but still one of the best. It's funny because I watched this movie with a few kids who had never seen it before and their interaction with it was much different than mine at their age. I hate to sound like a grandfather, but all the spectacle we've come to expect (the "expectacle," if you will, that's totally a joke by the way) in movies, has taken away from the grandeur that a movie like The Wizard of Oz might have on first time viewers. I don't care how cheesy it sounds, I seriously still catch my breath when Dorthy first opens the door into the colorized world of Oz, and for crying out loud, I was born fifty years after its release. I recall that after watching the movie with the first time young viewers I felt dismayed, here was one of my favorite movies and it had left the utterly nonplussed. Perhaps in years to come they'll look back and have a greater appreciation for it, after all my appreciation for it has changed a lot over the years. I love a lot of things about it that have to do with the history of the movie, for example I'm exhilarated to think that director Victor Flemming released both this and Gone with the Wind in the same year; what a year, right? But there is still, and there always will be, that heart of my love for this movie which is based in the nostalgia I get from watching it. Whether it's on my laptop in some godforsaken bus station, or on a sixty inch television in restored DVD color, I turn it on and suddenly I feel like I'm five years old again, laying belly down on Grandma's living room floor, thrilled out of my mind because I get to, once again, watch my favorite movie.

A+

Kill Bill

As I said in my review of Gone With The Wind, I'm getting sentimental about the movies I love most so I'm taking the time to at least grind out some reviews for the few I consider to be my favorites. Unless I'm interrupted between now and when I finish, there will probably by six reviews, in a row, that all have an (A+) as the grade. Don't be alarmed, I haven't become even MORE lenient with my judgments, I'm just taking a second to once and for all identify my most beloved movies. Kill Bill is technically the fourth film by Quentin Tarantino, though it was split into two volumes so it's really films 4 and 5. For each volume there are five chapters, I could name them all in order but I really don't want to do so right now. I'll name one later, my favorite. Anyway, the story is pretty straight forward, but of course it's also not straight forward at all, what with the chronology mixed all around. Uma Thurman, Tarantino's muse if you will, plays The Bride, a woman shot in the head and left for dead along with the rest of her wedding party. They all died, she goes into a comma for four years and upon waking up she vows revenge on those responsible, namely her four ex-coworkers and their boss Bill. The Bride, her real name is bleeped out when ever characters speak it for the majority of the movie, was once an assassin but, pregnant with Bill's baby, she decided to get out. She makes a list (my kind of woman) of names that she crosses off after each is killed. She is armed with a katana sword (REALLY my kind of woman) forged for her by mythic sword maker Hattori Hanzo. The story is really nothing new, and when you see the movie you realize that the entire thing is quite blatantly nothing new, in fact it's opposite. Tarantino, a self proclaimed cinephile, assembles the movie out of everything he's ever loved in the movies. It's kind of like his cinematic response to anyone wondering why he adores them so much. I read an article in which someone compared Kill Bill to a mix tape. That sounds about right. I don't think that anyone but Tarantino himself could watch this movie and recognize every single homage and references, but that's ok, it's just as enjoyable even if all you recognize is is The Bride's warrior clothing pulled from Bruce Lee's Game of Death. It's surprising, when you watch it, to think that it was ever meant to be shown as one movie. First of all, there is simply nothing in the 4+ hours total running time with which I could have possible done without, and second of all, the two halves are totally different. They're not different in a bad way, they compliment each other, like two side of a coin, if you'll pardon my terrificly awful cliché. Volume one is all action, there are a lot of great lines, but it's more or less one long build up to Chapter 5 "Showdown at the House of Blue Leaves." This is my favorite scene in the whole Kill Bill saga, and has a good bid for my favorite scene of all time in any movie (though I don't think I'll ever officially tell anyone what that is). It's pretty much one long sequence of fights during which The Bride dispatches a handful of guards, personal body guard/school girl Gogo Yubari, the army of ninja hoodlums "The Crazy 88," their leader Johnny Mo, and finally O-ren Ishii, number one on her death list. It's brilliant, a word I don't often use to describe movies. It's not shy about being old school style, complete with spurting blood after every hacked limb and delicious little sound effects to accompany the unsheathing of a particularly good weapon. The point is, that scene is the climax of Volume 1, and really of the whole Kill Bill story. Volume 2 has exciting parts, but it is much more like Pulp Fiction in that its main strength is its conversations, a blend of everyday commonality and profound cinematic dialogue. By the end of Volume 2, as The Bride finally comes face to face with Bill, there is almost no violence, just graceful conclusion to the whole bloody affair. I'll end my descriptions there, because I would hate to do anymore injustice to one of the greatest movies, I think, of all time. It is not a movie for everyone, but let's be honest, if it were it would have to skimp on something or another, and that is something that can't always be done. It is, however, a great movie. It's like nothing we've ever seen before, or rather it's like everything we've ever seen before, but by mimicking without mocking it becomes a celebration of the movies, of all the best things in movies. Quentin Tarantino is kind of full of himself, if you've ever seen an interview you know what I mean. He's cocky and every other sentence coming out of his mouth seems to be some sort of proclamation of his brilliance and perfection. I'd love to hate him and say he was a terribly narcissistic braggart, but as my film professor says, "It aint bragging if you can do it." This movie IS brilliant, and it IS perfect, Tarantino is a master of his art, and this is his masterpiece.

A+

Fracture

Fracture, one of the last winter season movies to play before the summer blockbusters officially take over the cinemas, has one really strong quality; the performances of its two leads. The rest of the movie is good, but without Anthony Hopkins and Ryan Gosling it would almost certainly fall flat.
Ryan Gosling plays Willy Beachum, an assistant district attorney who is given one last case to take before he goes on to practice law at a prestigious firm. The case is supposed to be easy, after all they have the attempted murderer, the victim, the weapon, and a signed confession.
Anthony Hopkins plays Ted Crawford, a wealthy man who, upon discovering his beautiful young wife’s infidelities, shoots her and in doing so paints himself into an inescapable corner. His wife doesn’t die; instead she is in a comma.
As in every performance he gives, however, Hopkins’ villain is smarter than any of the other characters give him credit for. Surprisingly though, he’s not that much smarter than we the audience give him credit for.
Everyone knows Hannibal Lecter. Because of this it is impossible, I think, to watch Anthony Hopkins play a sinister character without comparing him to that iconic villain. When I say he isn’t smarter, in this movie, than we give him credit for, I don’t really hold it against Hopkins, it’s more the fault of the script.
We never have to wonder who did it; we saw the whole scene, from Mrs. Crawford arriving home to Mr. Crawford pulling the trigger. If you’re observant, which I hope everyone going to the movies these days is, you’ll be able to figure out Crawford’s plan by no later than half way through the movie. That’s just if you’re observant. If you’re seriously applying yourself you’ll have it solved five minutes after the shooting.
By the end, when the “twist” was revealed, I was a little taken aback because after so long with the ending being, I thought, so obvious, I had started to expect something a little more complex. One of the characters suggests that perhaps Crawford dissolved the gun in acid, that’s the kind of Hollywood trick that this movie doesn’t deliver.
Just because it’s easy to work out, it doesn’t mean it’s a bad movie. The script, even while giving plot twists away too easily, is well written, with humor and gravity in good measure, and a distance kept from formulaic romance that is refreshing. There is some romance, and what’s there is a little typical, but I was pleased that it kept to a minimum; after all it really hasn’t got a place in this sort of movie.
And now we come to, and by “it” I mean identifying what “sort of movie” this one is. It’s not really a whodunit; we know the villain, the motive, and the course of events. Neither is it a courtroom drama, really; the court scenes are relatively short and not really the focus of the movie. It’s more of a cat and mouse kind of thing.
The cat being the clever and despicably friendly Crawford, who calls up Beachum as if the two of them were old golf buddies. The mouse, then, is Beachum, who is all set to take his place in the world of successful law practice and romance his attractive boss.
As a cat and mouse sort of thriller it does well for itself. As I said earlier, the always-excellent Hopkins and the increasingly respectable Gosling are the soul of the movie. I wouldn’t encourage everybody to rush out and see it, especially with the weather turning so nice, and so many exciting and colorful summer movies right around the corner. But then again, half way through the coming barrage of barnacle encrusted pirate armies and (God help us all!) Optimus Prime and company, you might wish you’d watched a few more movies like “Fracture.”

B

Gone With The Wind

While I'm apt to like movies more than they deserve, I still consider myself more or less careful about grading a movie at the absolute highest, that being an (A+). I generally like to have seen the movie more than once, though I'll overrule that every now and then, and I only ever give them to movies that really changed the way I look at the cinema. The Star Wars original trilogy are among the few, as are the Lord of the Rings movies. The first Matrix movie is also my list, as are The Kill Bill movies (I count them as one), Pan's Labyrinth, The Wizard of Oz, and Casablanca. There are only two animated movies I'd give an (A+) and they are Beauty and the Beast, and Spirited Away. The point is, I've written reviews for a very few number of those movies and it's high time I did so, considering that they comprise my actual list of favorite movies. Not that any of all that has anything to do with Gone With The Wind, but it's just sort of a warning that, as I approach my 100th movie review on this blog, I will probably be marking the occasion by writing reviews for all of the movies mentioned above that do not already have one written. Gone With The Wind is relevant for two reasons, one because it earned a place on the list in question, and two because I just watched it for the first time since watching it for the actual first time. I remembered practically nothing from my first viewing, though this is not surprising since that was 9+ years ago. I knew a handful of the lines, though I wasn't familiar with what I consider to be the most dramatic part of the whole movie, and for that I was not just pleasantly, but ecstatically surprised. For any of you who have seen it, the most dramatic part I mean, it's Scarlett's final line at the end of act one. The composition of the scene, as well as the dramatic delivery made for a scene of wildly potent cinema, if that makes sense. I could probably describe the whole movie that way; wildly potent. The colors are all so saturated, and the script is so classic Hollywood, it is pretty much as close to perfect as a movie can be. It no longer boasts having the most spectacular sights on film, special effects (which I love don't get me wrong) have since made it possible for endless masses of people and epic scale disasters to become commonplace in the movies. However, watching this one, even now, you can recognize its grandeur because they didn't have special effects and CGI during the time it was made. Scarlett making her way through the thousands of injured war victims is a scene created by all real people and you can just imagine how majestic it must have looked for the first time. The story is so long that I dare not go into it, but like all great cinema classics it's about men and women who can and can't have each other during trying times. It remains to this day as the movie that has sold the most tickets ever. Though it only made $400 million worldwide in it's theatrical days, its total gross adjusted for inflation is $2.7 billion. It's not hard to see why; for the price you'd pay for any old movie you'd get this utterly spectacular epic. I could go on and on about it for paragraphs but I won't. It is a piece of film history at its very least. At its most it is one of the finest movies ever made, and perhaps the greatest example of why people, American or otherwise, love the movies so much. Don't believe me? Watch it, and if you've already seen it, watch it again. I kid you not, after 3 hours and 58 minutes I was ready to put in the first disc and start it over again right there and then, it's that good.

A+

Spider-Man 3

If you didn’t like the first “Spider-Man,” or its terrific sequel, you might as well stop reading now because you won’t like “Spider-Man 3.” It’s got the same characters, more vertigo inducing fights, and more messages wrapped into its emotion-heavy plots. Of course if you didn’t like the first one, or the second, you might need to square with the fact that you probably just plain hate cinema.
I’m afraid I won’t be lambasting this latest entry into the series; as it turns I liked it very much, though that is not to say it is without its flaws. Sequels are easier to love than originals, but they’re also easier to hate. What I mean is, when there’s already been a movie (or two) to introduce us to the characters and situations, a sequel can continue to build from there so our love of the original(s) carries on as a love of the sequels.
It’s important to point out that this only happens when the sequel is good. I say it’s easier to hate them because if a sequel is bad, it’s not just one poor movie; it tarnishes our appreciation for its predecessors.
The only real flaw of “Spider-Man 3” is that it tries to deliver too much of a good thing. Without going into too much detail, I’ll see if I can recall the various plot lines. There’s Peter and Mary Jane’s romance, which is threatened by flirty classmate Gwen Stacy, who is dating Peter’s rival photographer Eddie Brock. Mary Jane’s having trouble with her career, but Peter doesn’t know this because he’s obsessed with his uncle’s killer ex-con Flint Marco, though not quite as obsessed as he is with himself.
Infectious black alien goo that amplifies aggression is passed around like every other disease in New York, and Marco is genetically tweaked so he can become a sandstorm at will. Harry Osborn, still obsessed with avenging his father, sinks to all kinds of lows to hurt Peter.
Peter, as promised in trailers and posters, becomes a much darker and more vengeful version of himself, who, when he’s not viciously fighting villains or ex-best friends, saunters around New York attempting to flirt and being a pretty slimy little brat if you ask me. Mix all that together and we’ve got enough material to fill three movies stuffed into this one.
Surprisingly it doesn’t all seem as disjointed on screen as it does on the page. Director Sam Raimi knows how to keep things moving, and he’s never above throwing in an awkward laugh, or a cringe inducing brawl just to keep it interesting. All the characters have their stories and they intertwine nicely before converging at the end to be resolved.
I’m generally against sequels that try to rewrite history, but it happens here and it works pretty well. It is a comic book movie, after all, and if such stories didn’t know how to keep the plot twists coming we’d have lost interest a long time ago.
I’m not generally against movies that have overt messages; it’s just annoying when a movie wants to have a message and winds up spewing out some faux-philosophic crap in an attempt to be deep. The “Spider-Man” series has always been head and shoulders above all other comic book adaptations because it was more than just spectacle and summer romance. It is in this aspect that number three earns its place alongside one and two.
Forgiveness is a pretty tough subject to handle well, it is divine you know. Not many movies could really do it justice as a theme, or present a full enough story to make us, the audience, understand why it’s such a tough subject. “Spider-Man” has the benefit of two previous movies, which means that this time around we’ve already seen most of the wrongs done, and we can appreciate how hard it is for the characters to let go of their hate and desire for revenge.
Don’t get yourself worried, this isn’t some two and a half hour sermon; it’s got a lot of humor, a couple good jump scenes, state of the art special effects, breathtaking scenes of grandeur, and one particularly good villain. It just also has the decency to strive for emotional ethical depth.
It is, undisputedly, the first real blockbuster in what many experts are predicting could be a record breaking three months at the movies. I don’t know how “Shrek 3” or “Pirates of the Caribbean At World’s End” are going to turn out, though I can say fairly safely that “Transformers” will be a sad joke. The point is, it’s nice that in the summer, a season usually featuring a lot of noisy meaningless movies, there’s at least one that tries to be something worthwhile when it could have been just another pointless, half-hearted, in other words typical, sequel.

A-