I realize it’s the wrong comic, but it seemed better than the more obvious web-related puns for Spiderman-3, which Houseguest Shannon and I saw on Saturday.
We saw it by accident, really. We had gone downtown on what seemed like a lovely afternoon, had a great lunch at Matchbox, and took in a couple of exhibits at the American Art Museum and National Portrait Gallery. When we came out of the museum, though, the nice day had turned into a cold, drizzly afternoon, which quickly dampened our interest in wandering around. Because the movie theater at Gallery Place was so close, we decided to head over there to get out of the weather.
And like the rest of America, we went to see Spiderman-3, which is 2.5 hours of the most muddled storytelling and bad acting you can possibly imagine.
(After the jump, Houseguest Shannon takes over as guest-blogger/movie reviewer. Be warned that her comments contain “spoilers,” as if knowing what is going to happen could possibly make seeing this movie an even worse experience.)
For the price of $21.00 (plus 12.50 the for the obligatory snacks and drink) you too can waste two and a half hours of your life watching the mindless drivel that is Spiderman 3. When the audience laughs during the emotional crest of a movie, you know something is quite wrong.
Tobey Maguire sucked. Sucked, sucked, sucked. During the course of this movie, some evil goo from a never-explained outer space meteorite takes over his Spidey-Suit and makes him Evil Spiderman. The ensuing scenes where he wanders the streets of Manhattan as a bad ass are just downright uncomfortable to watch. He cannot pull it off.
Turns out that that this goo is easily thwarted by church bells, or as Sarah so humorously put it, a giant tuning fork! Whatever.
Villain No. 1 is an escaped convict who runs into the Convenient Nuclear Particle Lab In The Middle of Manhattan and becomes this sand man thing. Villain No. 2 is on-and-off again Harry What’s-His-Name who tries to kill Peter for misguided revenge from the first movie. That storyline is too neatly tied up by Convenient Butler who tells him that his father killed himself, not Harry. Uh, okay. Villain No. 3 appears when Peter extricates himself from the goo but the goo attaches to his rival photographer at the Daily Bugle. Honestly, they could have stopped at Villain No. 2 but alas, they did not.
Naturally there is a huge end battle and all ends up happily ever after. By that time, we did not care one whit. I just kept looking at my watch and thinking, “Is thing over YET?”
Needless to say I’m just glad that we enriched our minds at the museum first!
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Eileen
Lovely. Chris HAS to see this movie. He’s been looking forward to it for months…and guess who gets to go with him? Well, maybe I’ll like it better than you guys did. Tobey Maguire as a bad ass is hard to imagine (tee-hee). I’m gigling just thinking about it. Maybe I can talk Chris into seeing it with Philip instead of me!
You can send him with my husband, who wants to see it and has it in his head that I’ll join him – despite shitty reviews from friends and critics alike.
My mother took my two young nephews to see it this Saturday and walked out about halfway through.
Weather notwithstanding, how do you “accidentally” see a movie? There are a series of very intentional acts are required to get you from The National Mall to a seat in front of the screen. You can’t just blame it on the rain.
It was an accident in that it wasn’t in the plan for the day — perhaps “spontaneous” might have been a better word choice. And actually, the American Art museum is the one that’s right across the street from Gallery Place, so it took fewer acts than you might expect to land us in our seats.
Accidently – Spontaeously….Sheesh, the movie still stunk no matter how we ended up there.
I looked up the reviews of the other two movies that we could have seen (Fracture and Lucky You) and I’m glad to say that we would not have fared much better with those either. Whew!
Fracture received marginally decent reviews (suspend your disbelief and you’ll enjoy the movie type) and I probably would have preferred watching Ryan Gosling or Anthony Hopkinds in a mediocre film over Toby Maguire in…ummm…anything, but oh well.
Lucky You would have melted our brains. Nothing but watching the characters play poker. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.