Sam reviews…
May.24, 2007, filed under Miscellany
Turgid torpid festering nauseating chundering shitey fuckwank bollocks extruded from a goat’s anus and forced through a twisty straw.
Jee-zus. What a pile of crap. And I’m a Marvel fangirl.
I don’t know where to start with how bad this film is. No, really. But let’s try beginning with the wasted 2 hours and 20 minutes of my life, for which I paid premium seat prices (I have a bad back) and will never get back. Two hours of this shite comprises needless, pointless maudlin crap about Peter Parker and MJ, none of which was remotely interesting. Even when he turned “bad” the best they could do was to put eyeliner on him and make him look like Pulp’s Jarvis Cocker. Only less attractive. And more cringe-worthy.
I came so close to walking out of this movie, and stayed only out of stubborn determination to hang on for Venom, who turned up right near the end and wasn’t even particularly well done. Wasted. Utterly wasted. I was praying for someone to kill Spidey just so I wouldn’t have to think about yet another sequel in which Parker spends most of the film being an utter twat who needs his ass kicked. I so wanted one of the other Marvel characters to turn up and throw down on his angst-ridden butt.
What makes Spidey worth reading is the badinage. Only there was none. There was some horrendous David Brent style posturing, which I suspect was meant to be funny. There was the Jarvis Cocker sequence. There was the obligatory boo-yah, NY hearts Spiderman crap and lots of swinging around. Too much plot. Too much emotional crisis. An enormous lack of good old-fashioned Marvel ass-kicking.
Spidey teams up with Green Goblin Jr and ends up crying over the way circumstances can force good men into terrible deeds with the Sandman, who moments before had been a 3 storey tall dustmonster and who was responsible for killing his uncle? Puh-lease.
The biggest crime was turning what should have been a special effects action movie into a soap opera. The best bit was Bruce Campbell reprising John Clease’s French waiter role from The Meaning of Life. And that’s not saying much.
Someone PLEASE take Sam Raimi’s budget away. Please. He doesn’t work well with a big budget.
I hated this film. I can find good things to say about Ghost Rider but Spiderman 3 had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. None. Nada. Zilch.
While it was not helped in the slightest by the three lads drunk on vodka and jeering for half of the movie before walking out in disgust, I can see their point.
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Singularity
~something that is singular as (a) a separate unit, or (b) unusual or distinctive manner or behavior; PECULIARITY;
~the quality or state of being singular;
~a point at which the derivative of a given function of a complex variable does not exist but every neighborhood of which contains points for which the derivative exists;
~a point or region of infinite mass density at which space and time are infinitely distorted by gravitational forces and which is held to be the final state of matter falling into a black hole. Sight
