We went to see Spider-man 3 the other weekend. Now, I wouldn’t be a cinema-going-Spider-man-person if it wasn’t for Himself, although I’ll happily watch it on DVD. He’ll not like reading this, I’m sure, but he’ll know what I mean: I like Spider-Man as much as the next person, but it wouldn’t be the first film I’d pay a fiver to see in the pictures if the decision were down to me. Anyway, I’m not sure I’ll be so quick to pay it for Spidey 4 when it comes around.
Spider-Man three was all manner of adventurous with its three baddies and Spider-Man himself going all eviiiiilllll in the middle of it, but it was a shame that it went on for an hour longer than I could be bothered, and that two of the baddies were mediocre at best. Peter was funny and cute when he was being bad, and Harry was funny and cute when he was being good, so that kept me happy for the most part but it stopped there. [In fact, if they make a film of just those two things, I’ll happily throw down my fiver on opening night.] MJ was a one-trick-pony as usual, but I’m not a huge Dunst fan anyway. (It’s the eyes, people! Her eyes are dead – they don’t light up, they don’t smile, they don’t look sad, they don’t look angry – they just sit there in her head like they need an electric shock to make them express. She has vacuous eyes.) Even Aunt May and the flashback clips of Uncle Ben couldn’t get my emotions running, this time. It was a bit of a non-starter in that way.
Meh and bleh, all told. Shame. There’ll be no excitement in this house for Spider-Man 4.