We revived Bad Movies We Love last week with Cher's Chastity, a quaint '60s jam full of boring monologues and menacing lesbianism. But Movieline is barreling ahead with a film that combines superhero glitz, melodrama and the campy pizazz of a Gwen Stacy dye job: Spider-Man 3. You think James Franco is fancy now with his Oscar buzz and amputee cred? Wait until you revisit him in Spider-Man 3, the film that pinned our disbelief under a boulder and forced us to saw it off using Topher Grace's frosty tips. Are you emotionally ready to revisit when Spider-Man went emo?
First, a synopsis: Spider-Man (Tobey Maguire) is a superhero. Fin. That's it. And I guess he fights villains and specializes in dining with his tepid girlfriend Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst), who is heretofore called Tepidia. Whatever. He also faces personal hardships that end up fueling his big battles. But that's it; Spider-Man 3's assorted plots don't make it a Bad Movie We Love. You must survive the rotating storylines -- including the true identity of Peter's Uncle Ben's killer, Mary Jane's momentary romance with amnesiac Harry Osborn (James Franco), and the evil rise of Peter's Bugle rival Eddie Brock, Jr. (Grace), who turns into Venom -- in order to get at what's lovable here: the unbearable hilarity of Peter Parker's "blue period."
Here's what Peter looked like in the first two Spider-Man installments:
Blithe, nerdy, and torqued to ride Seabiscuit. Here's what he ends up looking like in Spider-Man 3:
Bleak, nervy, and ready to star in Willard. Rodents race at this man's galoshes. He stalks sewage systems and grimaces skyward at humankind. His hair is combed forward. Growl/meow. Except while Crispin Glover might actually unleash a fury of kangaroo rats if you botch his Pinkberry order, Tobey Maguire looks angry enough to unleash a devastating acoustic ballad. At his worst, he's moody. That's the glorious part of Spider-Man 3: The filmmakers seem to agree that nonsense about killers, supervillains and Tepidia is quite tiresome. Their solution is to toss it all aside and expose our protagonist for what he is -- a projection of the (primary) audience's boyhood angst. It's an uncomfortable and priceless statement.
The justification for Spider-Man's emo-lution is as follows: After Tepidia dumps him and evil compels Harry into betrayal, an oily black substance (a "symbiote") finds its way towards Earth and affixes itself to Peter's Spidey suit. Of course. The black Gak overtakes the costume, turning it a foxy jet color and giving Peter enhanced powers that make him act huffy and selfish all the time. Oh, he slams doors now! Yeah! And he scoffs. And he uses the computers at the public library without taking the online etiquette course first. He is an unhinged maniac. Or his hair is just combed forward. Maybe I mean that.
In his first moment of Willard-ly achievement, Spidey storms the offices of The Daily Bugle, where rival photographer Eddie has earned his coveted staff job, and exposes the man's work as a forgery. You'd think that would be satisfactory enough for an arbiter of poetic justice like Spidey, but no: He starts an out-and-out brawl with Eddie after the nebbish starts begging for forgiveness.
"You want forgiveness?" Peter sneers, preparing to toss Eddie into a glass display case. "Get religion."
You heard it here first (or, rather, last): He's emo Jean-Claude Van Damme. He is the frontman of the novelty band Dashboard Kickboxer. He is my favorite thing to happen to this franchise. After exposing Eddie as a fraud, he decides to strut around NYC like an entitled, dancing douchebag. It's supposed to be funny? Except every woman is staring at him lustfully? You explain it to me.
I like this sort of goofiness better when it's... a silly music video from 2002.
But the braggadocio goes on: Peter invades a local pub where his failed actress girlfriend Tepidia Newton-John is crooning. After calling a hostess "Hot Lips" (because Tobey is as believable here as Alan Alda would be), he seizes the opportunity to humiliate her two-timing ass in front of jiving patrons by staging an elaborate dance routine. He makes it seem like hapless bystander Gwen Stacy (Bryce Dallas Howard) is complicit in the choreography, but her Cindy Margolis dye job gives away her naivete.
After he accidentally smacks Mary Jane and legitimizes domestic abuse for the comic-book demographic, the movie retreats into routine: Mary Jane is captured by Venom (Eddie in black-Gak guile) and Sandman (Thomas Haden Church, looking like Duke Nukem awash in leftover CGI from The Mummy Returns), and Spidey saves her. Harry ends up dead, but not in a bracing 127 Hours way. He's just impaled at some point like an average Naomi Campbell assistant. Fine.
But don't worry, the movie closes with one of those pointless one-liners that turns everything we've seen into a tale of everyman heroics:
"It's the choices that make us what we are," Peter says. "And we can always choose to do what's right."
Or we can choose to be an angst-ridden rat king and dancefloor bandit. Sorry, Spider-Man, but we know superhuman antics when we see them -- and your strut is divine.