If all the summer blockbusters prove to be as entertaining as this one, I doubt I’ll be able for the excitement. All over the place and amusing as hell, Sam Raimi’s concluding contribution to the Spiderman franchise is an endearingly ramshackle enterprise. Rather intriguingly, our friendly neighbourhood superhero must now contend with himself after he finds a snazzy black suit that turns him into the same narcissistic doggish Tobey Maguire we once saw in Deconstructing Harry. Expect strutting.
When he finally manages to toss the weird symbiotic garment aside, it falls into the wrong hands leaving the beleaguered protagonist with not one but two villains to contend with. But before he can face down the nefarious Venom (Grace) and Sandman (Church), Spiderman has the usual personal problems to attend to. Aunt May is still going on about responsibility. Uncle Ben’s murder is back under the spotlight. Mary Jane (Dunst) is whinging about her failing stage career and the appearance of romantic rival Gwen (Howard in a nothing role). J.K. Simmons is shouting at everybody. Harry (Franco) is still pissed about his dad dying. And so on.
Even diehard fans will have to admit that Spiderman 3 is less coherent or emotionally engaging than its predecessors, but if you can let that slide, this is Raimi’s most enjoyably raucous film since Evil Dead 2. Everyone onscreen looks to be having a blast. In-jokes are served in abundance. And if you don’t think Bruce Campbell’s turn as a French waiter is one of the funniest spectacles this year, then you shouldn’t be allowed near sharp objects.