Spider-man 1 didn’t trip my trigger and Spider-man 2 slightly redeemed the series. But Spider-man 3 was the gayest of all three. With such cheap tricks as an unexplained meteorite, short-term amnesia and hullaballoo science via a particle accelerator … Spiderman 3 dips deep into Hollywood’s wastebasket. Add to that a cobbled-together plot with three (count’em-three!) villains and a love quadrangle, and you have the big-budget movie that just couldn’t.
It’s as if the producers and directors read a book about everything needed to make a movie, and they decided to jam it all into one flick. Two scenes in particular grind my stone. Peter Parker strutting down the street, snapping his fingers, pointing at the ladies. And Peter Parker playing the piano, then jumping around the night club. Two scenes, one word. Gay. Each one was gayer than the other. They have to be the gayest scenes in a movie I’ve ever seen. The nightclub scene pissed me off so bad that I turned the movie off and didn’t finish. Need I say more? I didn’t care about the hero or the villains and I doubt anyone else did either.
Directed by: Sam Raimi