Untitled Document

Spiderman

 

That time of the year has arrived: summer. The time when typical mindless blockbusters fill the multiplexes and the unsuspecting film viewer obediently files into the rows of the dark auditorium, waiting to be transported into a world they will never be transported to. In an era of immensely hyped movies and enormous box-office breaking opening weekends followed by huge dropoffs, Spiderman has arrived. Spiderman is one of those heavily hyped summer blockbusters-to-be. But it has something that most other heavily publicized films do not. It's a character trait not necessarily an overly special thing, but is a trait that we all hope becomes a part of every movie we see in theaters:

Spiderman is a very, very good movie.

Sure, Spiderman will make a ton of money, it's opening weekend will be enormous, and it's successive weekends will feature large dropoffs. In the long run, however, the second most important element to making a financially successful film will take hold (publicity being the most important): word of mouth. It's got healthy doses of everything that makes a movie popular in the days of special effects-laden summer movies. It's got attractive leads, great visuals, and most of all, it's got heart.

That heart can be attributed to almost every member of the film's crew. Director Sam Raimi, when looking for direction, turned to the source material. The result is a film that is remarkably consistent with the origins of our hero (with a few blatant exceptions: the combination of Mary Jane and Gwen Stacy, and the organic web-shooters rather than a mechanical system). Director of Cinematography Don Burgess gives the film a sometimes tight look, often assisting in showing Peter Parker's steep learning curve when attempting to use his powers for the first few times.

And finally, the actors form the primary source of soul for the film. Tobey Maguire is absolutely perfect as the high school nerd Peter Parker turned city-celebrity Spiderman. Tobey's physical transformation is special, but what is truly remarkable are his eyes: those large blue ovals that seemingly emanate knowing and genuine affection for Mary Jane, played by Kirsten Dunst. Dunst is somewhat underutilized, but stellar nonetheless, seemingly reveling in her role as "the girl next door." In a way, the film treats her as a lust object, but only Willem Dafoe's Norman Osborne dares to look at her that way in one chilling glance. Dafoe plays his psychotic devil-character with a certain over-the-top relishness, achieving great success in difficult scenes like one sequence where he talks to his alterego through a mirror. Raimi could scarcely have hired a better cast of actors.

Spiderman is a film that rocks to the core, becoming possibly the best comic book-turned-feature film to date. The swooping scenes throughout the city are dazzling, and the relationship between characters rarely feels so real in big budget pictures. In perhaps the film's best individual scene, a stunning kiss takes place between the two. It's a dazzlingly performed act, one that plays like something more than it is. And whoever the costume designer is has done splendid work, especially in this "stimulating" scene.

Here's to you Spiderman.

 

On a scale of 1 to 10 declarations of love : 8