MIDNIGHT REVIEWS Spider-Man 2, Swinging and Sweatpants
Midnight Reviews features reviews and thought pieces written and edited by a parent, at night, after bedtime.
For better or worse, comic book movies have taken over a large portion of our culture. Certainly if you go back ten years, when superhero fatigue wasn’t anywhere near as prevalent, superhero movies were the most popular movies in the Western hemisphere. And perhaps the over abundance of caped crusaders are now doing nothing more than fighting against the tide, but for now they are still a significant part of our movie landscape. Whether it needs to be praised or punished, Spider-Man 2 helped pave the way for this.
With news that every single live-action Spider-Man film may be re-released, along with this year being the 20th anniversary of the amazing Spider-Man 2 (no, not The Amazing Spider-Man 2, I meant the Spider-Man 2 that was amazing, look, never mind) it got me thinking about what made the original Sam Raimi trilogy, on the whole, such a success. All of the live-action Spider-Men have been, to different degrees, successful financially. But I don’t really care about that. This article is going to explore what it was about the first batch that made them so endearing and pushed comic book movies to the forefront of our culture.
I would argue that the clue is in the colloquialism. The latest movies featuring the wall-crawler are generally known as the ‘MCU Spider-Man movies’ or even ‘Tom Holland Spider-Man’. The middle batch, featuring Andrew Garfield as perhaps the saddest Spidey and perhaps fittingly the most jerked around, are often called the ‘Sony Spider-Man films.’ The key is that the original trilogy is often referred to as the ‘Sam Raimi Spider-Man films.’ This emphasis on director as opposed to star or studio is where the original trilogy succeeded.
This leads into my next point that it isn’t even first and foremost a comic book movie. It is definitively a Sam Raimi movie. The looseness, the speed, the sense that at any moment full-on horror will burst onto the screen and have its way with the film. Stylistic traits that Raimi was able to make his own and yet interweave into each Spider-Man.
It helps this trilogy was released before anyone could say what a comic book movie was, beyond brightly coloured visuals (which weren’t always present anyway) and a hero who saves the day (again, not always present). In short, the structure and standards of a comic book movie hadn’t been established yet. This is to the trilogy’s betterment, as Raimi could spend time elsewhere if he wanted, as the only parameters structure-wise he really had to stick to were those of an action movie. Even then, he played around with what was considered the norm and filled each film to the brim with charm.
Since then, we’ve had Sony’s Amazing Spider-Man, a double bill that starts off as Batman Begins in spider-tights and ends by dragging its feet, struggling to sustain the weight of starting a universe all by itself. In comparison Raimi’s movies feel like a breath of fresh air. To move away from the original question and lament, I would say it was a great shame Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man didn’t work. Once it had gotten out of Batman’s substantial shadow, the sequel had a ton to like and a ton more that had serious potential. It’s just a shame that the sequel stopped copying Batman and tried to copy the entire MCU in one go. Instead of one movie, we had an extended trailer that was somehow dumber than Justice League’s mp4 clips.
Once the character moved over to Marvel, we got movies that were more successful by some parameters but held back by something equally paralyzing. Civil War, the character’s first appearance in the MCU, came well after everyone knew what to expect from a Marvel movie. Since then the character has become little more than mini-Iron Man and the idea that No Way Home ‘saved cinema’ is laughable. It had its ups (the ending is emotional despite the tedium that comes before; the small amount of room each performance has to stretch shows signs of promise), but it somehow manages to have all the negatives of a latter-day MCU movie (stylistically barren and an overreliance on CGI) combined with the single worst aspect of most legacy sequels (“Look, here’s this thing you recognise”).
Spider-Man and its even greater sequel had a through line with Mary-Jane and Harry Osborn. But each movie could be its own adventure, meaning each film wasn’t forced to be or do anything it couldn’t handle. It was only when studio interference became too much (here’s looking at you, Venom) that Spider-Man 3 fell on the brink of running a perfect race.
But it’s not just the way the films were made that affected the final cut. What really separates Raimi’s movies from the others is that his trilogy wears its heart on its sleeve. Despite the MCU’s ability to embrace the fun and wacky side of itself (Thor restarting a star; the entire premise of the TVA), it tries to have it both ways by characters drily referencing how weird this thing is. When J Jonah Jameson discovers a man who has turned himself into a mechanical monster with four extra limbs, and finds out he’s called Otto Octavius, he relishes the fact. When Peter Parker and Friends discover the same character, they laugh at the fact. I’m not arguing that the MCU should be embracing everything about the comics or even that it should be deferential to the extreme. But at least believe in your own characters.
Let’s talk about casting. Now, to say one last thing about the MCU to show that I’m not just throwing shade, Sarah Halley Finn knocked it out of the park with almost everyone involved. Do Raimi’s Spider-Man movies do the same? In order to get you reading further, it’s a yes and a no.
Couldn’t think Willem Dafoe could be topped? Alfred Molina has other ideas. It’s clear both actors are having fun with their respective roles and even though a lot of the cast have developed and portrayed deeper characters (Rosemary Harris, hanging from a wire off the side of a building, at one point quietly told Molina, “I’m classically trained, you know.”), everyone brings their A-game and yes, their classical training.
Octavius is turned into a madman by his own experiment but finds himself by the end. Just like Peter Parker, he made one mistake that snowballed but now he has the chance to make things right. Unlike our hero, who doesn’t have the good fortune of wiping the slate clean in one clean swipe, Octavius is the one who ultimately stops the big bad.
Whilst the main three cast members were by no means unknowns, Spider-Man launched them into the stratosphere. Kirsten Dunst was probably the biggest of the three prior to filming, what with Interview with the Vampire and Jumanji. There’s nothing like starring alongside an intense maniac and a man who’s part-gorilla to put you on the map.
It’s unfortunate that Dunst is the weak link. This isn’t through any fault of hers, but due to a script that doesn’t really know what to do with MJ or how to develop her much beyond a scream. But at least in Spider-Man 2 she starts to make her own choices and her frustration at being jerked around by this Peter Parker guy shows us that even though he’s the protagonist, he’s not the only one who matters.
James Franco, who went on to do… other things, was the least known of the three. His biggest role prior to Spider-Man was probably Freaks and Geeks, not something seen much outside of North America, or the biographical portrayal of James Dean. It could be argued that due to a lack of larger roles, like Harry Osborn, means you can see Franco grow the most as an actor between instalments. When he comes back afresh in Spider-Man 2, swearing vengeance and seeing his dead father, it’s clear he’s developed in confidence and ability. Some versions of Harry Osborn lean into the brotherly friendship he has with Peter Parker; this version relies on Franco’s ability to portray a broken, childish pettiness and a sneakiness that borders on conniving.
Enough of the lists. The endless YouTube videos and blog posts going on and on about who the best Spider-Man is (“This one is the better Spider-Man, but this one is the better Peter Parker. I say this because I’m deep and I understand things”). There is no best, only favourites. Tom Holland brings a dancer’s experience to showing a physicality we hadn’t quite seen from Spider-Man yet, and is easily the one that best fits the mould of actually looking like a teenager. It’ll also be pistols at dawn for anyone who doesn’t think his death scene in Infinity War isn’t a gut punch after the massive left hook delivered by Thanos.
Andrew Garfield is excellent at bringing across a range of complexity with the simplest, smallest change in expression or body language and his Spidey is at times a twitchy, nervous wreck. The death of Gwen Stacy, happening so quietly after over ten minutes of fast cuts, thumping bass, and fury, still brings tears to the eyes.
Tobey Maguire, though, portrays the nerdy kid Peter Parker. The one who just wants to do the right thing. The one who doesn’t fit in, at all. The one so many of us could see ourselves in. He made one mistake, a little mistake anyone could’ve made in a moment of ego, and his entire life changed. And, when given the opportunity, he could get a laugh with either a dry delivery (“I have a knack for that.”) or a look of incredulousness that let us in on the joke. Tobey Maguire probably played the most accessible, the most realistic Peter Parker.
Apart from Sweatpants Spidey from Into the Spider-Verse, the costume really hasn’t been bettered. The tactile, bumpy design is miles ahead of the smooth, CG MCU version you can never be quite sure is there. In a similar way, despite the best efforts of The Amazing Spider-Man, the swinging hasn’t been bettered either. What Raimi’s Spider-Man tapped into the entire way through was the perfect mix of stylised aesthetic and being able to feel the weight of our hero as he swung, slid and catapulted himself around New York. This sort of thinking came at a time of experimentation, which is exemplified by the more extreme choices made in Ang Lee’s Hulk sandwiched in between Raimi’s first two instalments.
Speaking of which, let’s talk music. Danny Elfman composed for the first two, with his themes alongside Christopher Young coming in for the third movie (his slow, mournful Sandman lament is outstanding). There are inflections of Hulk heard throughout Spider-Man 2 (particularly in Doc Ock’s theme), but it’s all memorable and flows back even after twenty years.
Whilst it can’t quite escape his earlier work on Batman it still just about manages to be its own thing. When you compare Marvel and DC, there’s no escaping the similarities between the mournful, guilt-tinged duo, but in Raimi’s movies Elfman also lets us feel the hope Spider-Man has. Doc Ock’s theme is as brash as the character and hearing it teased in the opening credits medley leaves you wanting more. Go back and listen to the track Saving May and hear an absolute belter, which also leads into arguably the best scene of the entire trilogy as Spider-Man and Doc Ock catch a train together like friends.
Spider-Man 2 got in and laid the framework for what later became movies that played with the new genre, the comic book blockbuster. Some focused on the wackier side of comic books with time machines and Pym particles; others moved out to the far reaches of the cosmic where characters are Gods and galaxies crumble; others still tried to persuade us that all of this could be and should be ‘realistic.’
All that being said, Spider-Man 2 feels like a bit of everything, mixed together to create near-perfection. It’s certainly not aiming for real, but the stumbling blocks thrown in front of the character feel like something from our own lives. The film as a whole successfully achieves something that could’ve so easily failed. Take a look at one of the final shots where Spider-Man and MJ swing away as Doc Ock sinks to his doom. Our hero and the love of his life float away, grasping a web that doesn’t seem to be clinging to anything, as the music calms and swells simultaneously. The shot is a gamble and is a representation of the act of saving, and is far more poetic than anything found in any other live-action comic book movies.
Like Superman before it, Spider-Man 2 is chock full of heart and completely sincere. These qualities could’ve had the trilogy laughed out of the room, but it’s these qualities that endeared the films to so many. Even twenty years later, there hasn’t been anything quite like them.
Matthew D. Smith likes to overshare his views on movies whenever and wherever he can. Indulge him, and follow him on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Smith_M_D
