Dear Sony Pictures, Columbia Pictures, and Marc Webb,
Why?
Why is this titled The Amazing Spider Man? I know the comics are called that and so marketing yourself in the same vernacular as the beloved comics grants you a certain sense of invincibility from fan-boy backlash. But a man who claims himself King is not King, just as a person who laughs at his own joke is not funny. Amazing? Try half-assed. Barely-there. Hollow.
Why does it feel like we've already seen this film before the lights even dim? Maybe it's because Sam Raimi's extremely recent, albeit extremely flawed, Spider Man 3 is still deeply ingrained in the public's mind. Maybe it's because in spite of all the fans out there, Peter Parker is inherently not that morally complex of a character. He's an overly emotional teenager who discovers he can do some crazy shit with sticky white stuff. That's about it. Daddy issues? Moral responsibilities? Villainous but not overly villainous villain? Thanks but no thanks. I'll just watch Batman Begins again.
Why was this marketed as "darker" and "angrier" and "emo-er" than Raimi's films when it's really not? First of all, the palette looks like it belongs in a children's coloring book. The entire NYC background glows like a neon-infused cocktail bar. Everything screams, look at me kids! I'm important! Then you try to wrestle with Parker's looming anger, with the fact that this kid has been bullied his whole life and marginalized, mistreated, and abandoned. If I wanted a darker take on the bullied high school teenager with superpowers, I'd watch the infinitely more entertaining Chronicle. At least that dared to present issues that resemble something in the real world.
Why is The Lizard the way that he is? Whenever it's on screen, it can't help but draw undue attention to itself. Look how great I look! My skin! My teeth! My claws! I kinda look like a distant cousin of The Thing from Fantastic Four, only greener! It's so obviously nothing more than a collection of pixels, algorithms, and computer bits. So when I know it's as fake as Pamela Anderson's boobs, I sure as hell can't take it seriously, must less actually feel threatened by it. The stakes aren't high in this film; they're obligatory and superfluous. In case you didn't know: This is a reboot. You can't afford to kill off Spider Man. The villain fails. The hero lives. And as a side note, lizards have actual snouts, not weird humanoid pug faces.
Why is this whole film so, for lack of a better word, meh? This is the cinematic equivalent of a friend asking, "Do you love her?" and me responding, "Well she's nice..." Is this a good movie? Well, it's not not good. It's flashy and extravagant. And technically speaking, it looks nice. At times, it's even witty and hints at an intelligence that's beyond itself. But it's as if it knows it's not supposed to be smart, sharp, or engaging. So it quickly extinguishes any glimmer of magic by swiftly falling back in line with its cookie-cutter storyline...
But beyond all these questions, the one that really nags at me is simply, why does this film even exist? It's painfully clear there was never a "fresh take" on the saga; Raimi has already mined the franchise for all relevancy in a post-9/11 world. It can't be due to advancements in CGI because both the hero and the villain still awkwardly defy the laws of physics to the point of being perplexing, at best, and laughable, at worst. So it must be the reason we all know but no one wants to admit - money. Here comes another
Please stop feeding us swill that you try to pass off as art. Stop ravaging our minds, dreams, and wallets with empty promises. Set an example for other artists. Convince people that those who watch movies aren't dumber than those who make them. Prove that a big budget and a meaningful story are not mutually exclusive. Reassure the public that you're not just bloated, money-grubbing whores. Or prove you're at least aware that you're bloated, money-grubbing whores. But most of all, take a creative chance. Dare to create something original and not recycle stale material. Dare to build something organic and not something hermetically sealed. Dare to grow. Dare to dream. Dare to fail.
Sincerely,
America.