If you go and see Spiderman 3 now, you will be part of an exclusive club of people. You’ll be one of the few who saw Spiderman 3 before it became a camped-up cult classic. In a year’s time people will be going to Spiderman 3 in costumes. The dudes in black suits with Emo hair will dance along with Peter Parker in the aisles. MJ lookalikes will sing out of key. Water pistols will be squirted during the crying scenes, and USA flags will be waved in slow motion with a flying spidey.
It’s a little difficult to write a review of the content of the movie, because I spent a lot of the time restraining myself from beating on the screen with my clenched fists and screaming choice obscenities in my best Charlton Heston impression.
The best part of the screening was the projector extinguishing its bulb in abject horror at what it was being forced to project onto the screen. They claimed it was a power cut, but I know better.? At least we got our money back.
Sam Raimi seems to have constructed five or six somewhat confusing action scenes, and then come to the realisation that he needed another 90 minutes of filler to make a full-length movie. He would have been better off making a short film, rather than put in all the doe-eyed, clenched-fist, lip-biting, forehead-wiping bullshit that ended up destroying the movie.