Dream Weaver

Spider-Man slings pop mythology for the masses

Kick a boy enough times, and he'll become a man. The question is, of what sort? In his long-awaited feature portrait of the comic-book hero Spider-Man, director Sam Raimi brings forth a kaleidoscopic answer full of hope and verve. Flashy enough for kids and insightful enough to engage adults, the movie will line 'em up at the multiplex and send 'em home with a few rudimentary but vital life lessons. Pretty snazzy for big studio product.

The keenest lesson a lot of fans will take away from this first major Spidey feature is that patience is rewarded. Global legions who obsess over the 40-year-old Marvel Comics creation of writer Stan Lee and designer Steve Ditko have had plenty of time to absorb all the particulars of Spider-Man, his family and friends and, especially, his enemies: Dr. Octopus, Lizard, Venom and my freaky fave, Typeface, to name but a few. Here, however, screenwriter David Koepp wisely sticks to only one major villain -- the Green Goblin -- and tells the origin of the great web-slinger thoughtfully, as if for the first time. Thus, unlike the fairly rapid-fire segments of Bryan Singer's equally successful Marvel adaptation, X-Men, we get one focused, old-fashioned story, which unfolds more like the latter-day cinematic introductions of DC Comics' Superman, Swamp Thing and Batman franchises.

Commencing with an appropriately webby title sequence and the familiar syncopations of composer Danny Elfman (who knows from superheroes, including Batman and Raimi's own inventive Darkman), we get straight to business. The kicked boy in question is 17-year-old Peter Parker (26-year-old Tobey Maguire), a dweeby schlub -- or, if you prefer, schlubby dweeb -- who resides with his sweet, elderly Aunt May (Rosemary Harris, perfect) and compassionate Uncle Ben (Cliff Robertson, likewise) in a cookie-cutter house in Forest Hills, Queens, New York. Though speeding into adulthood himself, Maguire imbues Peter with enough wide-eyed innocence to make the previous crop of Hollywood soft boys -- say, the late River Phoenix or the MIA Andrew McCarthy -- look like Hannibal Lecter by comparison. Somehow, it works.

Introducing himself by way of voice-over with the appropriate tone of a boy-man who still takes himself entirely seriously, Parker explains, somewhat misleadingly, that "this, like any story worth telling, is about a girl." Indeed, although eventually the proverbial tiger hits something akin to the proverbial jackpot, there's an inner mountain to climb to reach Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst in a fetching red wig), who is now, in this telling, literally the girl next door. (There's no apparent sign of Parker's other pulp panel squeeze, Gwen Stacy, although the horror of her untimely demise is suggested by this story's climactic set piece.) Mary Jane -- or MJ -- is everything a science-geek-cum-photographer-cum-graphic-artist could desire, and, refreshingly, she's content to be engaging and pleasant rather than just running around kicking arbitrary ass. For most of the film, however, the nymph's reply to the nerd is (paraphrased), "um ... like ... um ..." The nice way of saying no.

Life for bumbling, bespectacled Peter seems to be a great big bang-up, his true parents dead, his presence mocked by the mean kids on the bus and his thunder consistently stolen by MJ's dumb-ass boyfriend, Flash Thompson (Joe Manganiello). All this changes when his high-school class is invited to Columbia University to explore, you know, one of those exhibits dedicated to nanotechnology and genetically mutated spiders. Even though the class' teacher (Shan Omar Huey) tries to keep order, the barbaric Flash steals Peter's technical observations to impress MJ. In turn, Peter takes glamour shots of MJ with the arachnids. ("Don't make me look ugly," she requests, sure to elicit titters from the sharper lads in the audience.) And then fate strikes.

Utilizing the loudest set of fangs imaginable, an escaped über-spider -- blithely and quite hilariously dismissed by the Columbia guide -- descends onto Peter's hand and seals his destiny. Peter excuses himself, returns home, declines dinner ("No thanks, I had a bite") and collapses to his bedroom floor, the better to transmogrify into a unique human/spider hybrid. (This is not altogether unlike being licked by a weirdly bred cat and turning into an insane, screeching furball, but in a comic-book universe, you gotta roll with what they give you.) The next morn, Peter's got a brand-new bag, from the (possibly computer-generated) cut abs to the perfect vision (no more specs) to surprising powers that play out in splendidly directed action scenes at his school. The homoerotic subtext of the superhero genre is minimized (except for a funny pro-wrestling sequence), and the boy's on his way to herohood.

And here's where it gets mythic, as the birth of any hero immediately summons the presence of a suitable nemesis. Early on, Koepp and Raimi introduce us to Peter's friend Harry Osborn (James Franco, star of TNT's James Dean) and to Harry's military-industrialist father, Norman (a very game Willem Dafoe). Although Harry's friendly enough, another of the movie's lessons is never trust the wealthy. Not only does Harry try to put the moves on MJ, his megatycoon father has the sheer audacity to turn himself into a flying homicidal maniac in peculiarly stupid-looking armor. This process involves career tension at the family biz, Oscorp, plus the assistance of well-intentioned fellow scientist Dr. Mendel Stromm (Ron Perkins), wicked military experiments and a scary lab accident. Thanks to milky contact lenses and some shock edits -- one of them sensationally cheap -- the nasty Green Goblin is born.

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