It’s interesting to consider that this decade of film will be ending next year with the release of Watchmen, an adaptation of perhaps the definitive work of fiction on the nature of superheroes and their stance in culture, and will more or less cap off a decade that began with the first major superhero movie since outside the famous DC duo (X-Men, that is), and has made the superhero genre one of the most prevalent genres of the decade, both financially, culturally and critically.From X-Men to Spider-Man to Batman Begins and their sequels, we have seen many, many interpretations on the long-standing genre. They have ranged included lazy adaptations made solely for the buck (Daredevil, the Fantastic Four films), passable mainstream fluff (The first Spider-Man), deeper but still mainstream works (X2, Batman Begins), satiric looks at the genre that also embrace their conventions (The Incredibles), and even films that went so far into the genre that the audiences got lost and ultimately alienated (Superman Returns, Hulk). In a world that has become increasingly grim, and where America itself has become something of an enemy to the world, plenty of interpretation is to be found in this genre, and I wouldn’t be surprised if many years from now these films are looked at the same way the film noirs of the ‘40s and ‘50s are now looked upon, but I may be getting ahead of myself there.
Spider-Man 2 definitely belongs among the “deeper but still mainstream” group of superhero movies, which for most of the first 2/3 of the movie resembles more of a character study of Peter Parker than your typical superhero movie. Granted, that first 2/3 still features its fair share of action sequences (One involving a bank heist by the villain Doctor Octopus is particularly indulgent fun), and enough self-depreciating humor (Among Peter’s woes are having his whites ruined in the washer by his spidey suit) to keep the audience pleased. It has come to be considered by many as the best of the superhero movies this decade, with some competition from Batman Begins and The Incredibles (If the discussion is opened up to non-comic book films). The $151 million opening for Spider-Man 3 is a good testament to that.The Spider-Man movies have a particularly episodic feel to them that most comic book movies have. The movies will usually open with a set-up of what the main plot points are to be. In this case, we have Peter’s problems involving work, school and his love life and how they begin weighing down on him, Otto Octavius’ work on the ultimate energy source being financed by Harry Osborne, and Harry’s own thirst for vengeance against Spider-Man. From here these plots go through their own episodic rotations, as they collide into each other, effecting one plotline which then effects the effecting plotline, before spiraling towards a hopefully satisfying conclusion, leaving maybe a couple untied plotlines for the sequel. Just about all superhero movies follow this pattern, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a movie that didn’t follow something close to it. By using this kind of plotting the films have a strong resemblance to comic book story arcs, and how they will stretch over multiple short issues, but read together make pretty good sense. Watch any extended sequence from just about any of these superhero movies and you would probably have an effect similar to picking up a random comic book issue.
This works to the film’s disadvantage, but doesn’t kill it the way it kills the third film of the series. In that film the plotlines became so convoluted that none are really given a chance to breathe or really become as fleshed out as they should. In Spider-Man 2, there are certain segments that are outweighed by others in terms of interest (Watching it again I was surprised by just how much focus there is on Aunt May’s financial troubles), but it speaks volumes about how well these scenes ultimately work, as I decided to let the scenes play instead of giving into my ADD and hitting the skip button.
Also unlike any other superhero film franchise at the moment, Spider-Man very warmly embraces its campy roots, usually with mixed results. Frequently this camp threatens to overtake the films and occasionally does (Pretty much any scene involving the Green Goblin in 1, the entire amnesia plot from 3), but compared to its neighboring installments I was impressed at how restrained the film is in its overall campiness, keeping its more wacky and hoaky moments small enough to get a happy grin (Like Aunt May's thanking of an angel statue as she regains her footing on a building during a action set pece, Doc Ock's robo-arms lighting him a cigar as he works) than have entire sequences or plotlines that peeve and outstay their welcome.
Then of course you have the moments of the film that are without reservations (Well, maybe some) just plain excellent. The hospital scene where the Doctor Ock's robo-arms wreck havoc on the unfortunate doctors is a particularly underrated sequence, with pitch-perfect editing that turns it into something resembling what Hitchcock would do with such a scene, as the doctors are tossed, stabbed and dragged in a chaotic fashion that spares nothing yet shows so little. It’s a scene so confidently perfect and standout that it seems as though Raimi meant for it to be such a standout sequence in terms of its style, bringing to mind that dreaded, overused “P” word that I won’t pull out, mainly because the sequence works well as it is.
Then of course you have the moments of the film that are without reservations (Well, maybe some) just plain excellent. The hospital scene where the Doctor Ock's robo-arms wreck havoc on the unfortunate doctors is a particularly underrated sequence, with pitch-perfect editing that turns it into something resembling what Hitchcock would do with such a scene, as the doctors are tossed, stabbed and dragged in a chaotic fashion that spares nothing yet shows so little. It’s a scene so confidently perfect and standout that it seems as though Raimi meant for it to be such a standout sequence in terms of its style, bringing to mind that dreaded, overused “P” word that I won’t pull out, mainly because the sequence works well as it is.
Then there is the thrilling, intense and ultimately heart-wrenching final full blown fight between Spidey and Doc Ock, as they exchange the hands on a clock tower in a fighting fashion, then move onto a passing train, and finally having Spidey forced to slow down the train, nearly killing himself. It ends in the film’s hokiest and most moving moment, as the passengers carry our unmasked title hero like a tortured messiah, only to discover that their savior is little more than a simple young'un, “No older than my son,” as one middle-aged passenger puts it. Superman Returns deals with a similar situation with Christ-like undertones in a more poetic and mature manner near the end, but this scene is still quite excellent in giving a personal sense of just quite it would be like for the New York City of Spider-Man to watch its hero weakened like this, and it’s certainly better than the ill-executed final construction fight scene in Spider-Man 3 (Sorry to keep ragging on the film like that, but it DOES pale in every aspect when compared to this film). While Spider-Man 2 isn’t my #1 superhero movie (It’s not even my #2 – Batman Begins and The Incredibles take those spots), it is probably the best representation of the current state of the genre. It combines the camp and kiddie-friendly delight of the less-renowned superhero movies, while holding the deeper, character-study aspects that have softened the genre for critics that once dismissed it as kiddie fodder. If my earlier prophecy, about this genre going on to become a cultural mile-marker in the way some genres have for their eras, were to come true, I would not at all be surprised to see Spider-Man 2 become its Maltese Falcon or Double Indemnity, the touchstone of a golden age for its genre.
