The Amazing Spider-Man 2

First, the bad: There are too many story elements (and not enough story development) thrown into the latest Spider-Man installment: Peter Parker's relationship with his girlfriend, Gwen; his search to find out the truth about his dad; his relationship with Harry Osborne, son of his dad's business and research partner; his own struggle to honor a promise he made to Gwen's police chief father in the previous film. None of these plot points has the time to grow into something sustained. When we see flashbacks of Peter's parents, we might be fooled into the thinking that the movie is going to focus on that story, but there's not much to show for it aside from a montage of Peter covering his bedroom wall with newspaper clippings and photos related to his dad's research and parents' tragic deaths. (There's an extended flashback scene where we see what happened to them, but it's never clear why the writers included it.) Later Peter discovers that his father's research lab has been kept in pristine condition, hidden in a secret subway compartment that was once used for FDR. While we do learn one relevant piece of information in this scene, it's an example of what doesn't work in this movie: the myriad bits of exposition that don't function as anything other than plot markers.

The film also develops at least two villains (possibly a third if you include the ending). Spider-Man has a lot on his plate, and increasingly, movies like this one are asking viewers to take on more, more, more. That's not to say we're getting more complexity, or more quality, just more. More bang for our buck, I suppose, because, like most of its ilk, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 has a lot of bang. Much of it is generated by the latest villain, Electro (played by Jamie Foxx). I like much of this entry, but as I sit and recall how long it was, how bloated it was, I find myself wishing the movie had been pared down. The endless scenes of things exploding become mind-numbing and indistinguishable from Captain America and Batman and any other series.

Speaking of explosion scenes, I'd like to know how much hypothetical money it costs to repair New York City after Spider-Man (or any other superhero who calls the Big Apple home) does his thing. These enormous set pieces full of collisions and shattered glass and cars careening into each other and buildings collapsing and countless near-death experiences are just so wearisome. Every time I see one of these things--or even just the previews--I wonder why in the world so many people keep coming back. What else do they think they're going to see? And aren't they tired of the same old same old yet? The answer is an obvious "no" when you consider that this Spider-Man made 700 million dollars in the U.S. alone. Captain America has also broken the 700 million dollar marker, ditto X-Men: Days of Future Past (coming in ahead so far at 736 mil). I can only conclude that audiences--the audiences who live for comic book movies--have an unquenchable thirst for more of these, and presumably don't care that these movies repeat themselves or that the series are rebooted again and again. But why? Perhaps the culture has become so hopeless that superhero movies fulfill a kind of void. It may also be that these movies are like junk food: They condition people to crave the kind of flashy instant gratification they provide. When Pauline Kael described the 1977 Star Wars as a "box of Crackerjacks that's all prizes," she was describing every summer movie that's ever been made since Star Wars.

Now the good: Admittedly, Amazing Spider-Man 2 is enjoyable for what it is. And that isn't meant to sound like faint praise. I really did enjoy a lot of it, and I was satisfied with the ending, although it's conceivable that many people were not. What does work, and what is the saving grace of The Amazing Spider-Man 2, is Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone. Andrew Garfield is an actor who truly feels, and that emotion registers on the screen. It's hard not to respond to his sincerity. He also gets more funny bits of dialogue and action this time, especially in the first forty-five minutes or so when he flies around performing various Spider-Man tasks. These moments allow Garfield's natural charm to come through those tights and that silly bug mask. And Emma Stone may be the most likable young actress working in Hollywood right now. I can't think of anyone like her at the moment. She gazes out into the world with those big dreamy starlit eyes, but she's also smart and confident. Never for once do you feel someone could pull the rug out from under her. The movie is surely bolstered by the charisma these two performers exude, and it makes much of Spider-Man 2 bearable, even fun.

Even though it's entertaining to see Spider-Man web his away around skyscrapers, the action sequences eventually blur together into the blasé chaos we've come to expect from these movies. However, every scene of the two young lovers takes on a separate movie life. No other superhero movie romance comes close to capturing this kind of attraction. The scenes of Andrew and Emma, however repetitive or cliched, are something like a rest stop along the highway of endless superhero movie madness. We get to step out of the car, stretch our legs, and breathe.

I'm happy to report that in this film, Sally Field (returning as Peter's loving aunt) has a little more acting to do this time around. A little more. In the previous film, every time Field appeared on screen, she was a bystander. (Oscar-winner: Best Veteran Actress to Stand Around and Look Concerned While the Stars Hash Out Their Problems.) It made me wonder how many days she came to work with no lines to actually perform. Is this a depressing thing for actors? Are they just grateful to be getting work after they've reached "a certain age"? If so, it's a disservice, and a waste of tremendous gifts. But here, Field's character finally gets to talk, and she finally has something to say. Sadly, Jamie Foxx, who plays a nerdy technician for Oscorp, is miscast, not because he gives a bad performance, but because it's simply depressing to see him play such a loser. As the outcast Max Dillon, he wanders through life virtually invisible to those around him. As such, he's got just the right amount of inner-rage welling up inside him to make him a terrifying presence once he dons super-powers as Electro. Foxx may have wanted the challenge of doing something different, but he's such a charming, handsome, in-command actor that seeing him play the schlubby Max Dillon is a let-down.

And just when we think the movie can't go on much longer, director Marc Webb and the writers decide to invest what seems like another eternity into the villainous deeds of Harry Osborn (played by Dane DeHaan). With Paul Giamatti (as Rhino, a big beastly man so unlike Paul Giamatti that I didn't recognize him), Campbell Scott and Embeth Davidtz as Peter's mom and dad, and Colm Feore.

The Amazing Spider-Man

The problem with The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) is Spider-Man 1, 2, and 3. Their existences render this reboot superfluous. But, if we must sit through another introduction to this comic book hero, we could do much worse than Andrew Garfield suited up and Emma Stone at his side. Their fizzy chemistry, marked by sweetly uncomfortable long silences and interrupted sentences, is reason enough to see this film. The director, Marc Webb, is especially competent at these scenes. (He directed 500 Years of Summer before this.) But he's not especially competent when it comes to the action sequences. They are visually incoherent, and that this problem--which is so woefully commonplace among our action movies, particularly the ones that spawn from the various comic book series--is overlooked by so many kind (or perhaps indifferent) viewers is indeed depressing. Not long after Peter Parker becomes Spider-Man, he gets into a brawl on the Subway. But the punches and kicks are so poorly put together that we cannot tell what's going on, who's getting hit where, and the structure of that scene simply falls apart, pushing the viewer away.

There are other disappointments too. Chiefly, Sally Field. It's frustrating to see such a talented and dare I say beloved actress playing such a dull role. All she gets to do is look concerned. She plays the loving aunt of Peter Parker, and she mostly just worries about him as he traipses into the house late, forgetting to pick her up from work or get eggs from the grocery store. Martin Sheen gets a little more speechifying, but he's so obviously set up as a kind of philosophical mentor--a Yoda figure if you will--that he doesn't really resonate. You may end up thinking of the previous Uncle Ben (Cliff Robertson) intoning, "With great power comes great responsibility." (And for some reason I kept picturing Glenn Ford, from Superman.)

The villain in this Spider-Man entry is a scientist named Dr. Connors (played by Rhys Ifans). His research in genetic mutation is the catalyst for Peter Parker's transformation into Spider-Man. But unlike Peter, whose physicality is enhanced by a bio-magical spider bite, Dr. Connors turns into something hideous and terrifying when he injects himself with a serum that's supposed to regenerate his missing arm. He turns into a giant lizard, thus enabling Marc Webb to play a little Godzilla. Fortunately The Amazing Spider-Man has more finesse than a Godzilla picture.

Andrew Garfield--the gangly suburban punk with brains and charm to spare--is truly a wonderful casting choice. He has a magnetism that Tobey Maguire--so gauche and awkward--lacked. He's also funny, but the film doesn't spend enough time letting him show off his comic chops. Perhaps someone was afraid of making Spider-Man too jokey. And Emma Stone has spunk where Kirsten Dunst was too adorable. This combination of qualities saves the film from being just another superhero movie. Written by James Vanderbilt, Alvin Sargent (who also wrote Spider-Man 2), and Steve Kloves.

Lincoln

Lincoln isn't a bad movie, but it's hardly the masterpiece we've been waiting for (or not waiting for), for the better part of a decade. 

Spielberg's latest important film, once again showing that his better work was done on the unimportant movies like E.T. I suspect people with clout in the movie industry will whip themselves into a frenzy of self-satisfaction at their moral enlightenment for liking Lincoln and bestow upon it many awards. But the movie is turgid and talky, and as clever as some of the writing is (it was scripted by Tony Kushner, who adapted an excerpt of Doris Kearns Goodwin's book Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln), the language, and ultimately the movie itself, seems to be lost in its own ramblings.

The worst thing about Lincoln being ultimately dissatisfying is that people will overpraise the good things in it, and laud it all the more for its noble intentions, and the admittedly astonishing performance of Daniel Day-Lewis. His voice sounds a little like Ronald Reagan's, but more high-pitched. The look is as close to perfection as we're likely to get. And there isn't a better casting choice I can think of. Certainly Day-Lewis adds much to what is good about Lincoln.

Spielberg goes for the cerebral pleasure of a courtroom drama, full of candid, forceful discussions about law and morality in dimly lit rooms, then juxtaposed with scenes of political figures pontificating about the pros and cons of black people being considered human. And it's perhaps deliciously amusing to think of Lincoln strong-arming the House members into voting for the 13th Amendment. But the movie lacks the power I wanted it to have. The big Congressional vote scene at the end of the movie is fairly well-done: a moderately exciting finale to a movie that lumbers through its material, taking too much pleasure in its own mediocrity. And the assassination is tastefully handled, not mired in sentiment. But it's also not completely detached.

Sally Field, who reportedly had to convince Spielberg to cast her as Mrs. Lincoln, is right for the role, but it's a thankless role. She's playing a depressed woman who had more than her fair share of demons (including the loss of one son at this point in the story; her youngest, Tad, later died in 1871 at age 18). Mary, often maligned as crazy, and perpetually about to be "dragged off screaming to the snake pit" (to quote Bette Davis), comes off as the grating housewife. She utters a sadly prescient line near the end of the film, that she'll be remembered for her madness and for being a source of grief and pain for the President. She's best when she's allowed to match wits with some of the fatuous politicians who have stood in her husband's way.  Field's got the look down too, and her performance adheres itself to the vague impressions most of us have of Mrs. Lincoln.

There are a few colorful performances that add some spark, including Tommy Lee Jones as Congressman Thadeus Stevens, who's been working for thirty years to end slavery. Hal Holbrook, the lovable bullfrog, plays Francis Preston Blair, an aging Republican who also felt that slavery needed to die. David Strathairn plays Lincoln's Secretary of State, William Seward. Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Robert Lincoln, the eldest Lincoln son, who's determined to fight for the Union despite the wishes of his parents, afraid they'll have to bury another son. With James Spader, John Hawkes, Jackie Earle Haley, Lee Pace, Gloria Reuben, Bill Raymond, David Costabile, Julie White, Joseph Cross, Jared Harris (as General Grant), Peter McRobbie, Gulliver McGrath (as Tad Lincoln), and Boris McGiver.

The biggest problem with movies like Lincoln is that we tell ourselves they are important so therefore they must be good movies. I suppose it's possible that someone sat through this movie completely enthralled in the dialogue (I've enjoyed many a chatty movie before), but for me it was only half as good as I was hoping it to be. ★★

(This review was written while listening exclusively to music by The Civil Wars.)

Absence of Malice

A semi-bland newspaper story set in Miami about a scrappy young reporter (Sally Field) who's set up by her boss (Bob Balaban) to leak a story about Paul Newman's alleged involvement in organized crime. Newman is the entire movie here. Twenty-five years into his career he hadn't lost the ability to carry a picture. Field is moderately successful at playing a woman who's too focused on getting a story to care about how it might affect the lives of ordinary people. Balaban plays with a rubber band incessantly. It's supposed to make his character seem more real but it serves as a distraction. Melinda Dillon plays Newman's best friend, who is deeply affected by the story put out about Newman (She can provide an alibi, but it would cost her her job and her sense of community as a good Catholic girl: she was getting an abortion.)

At its best, Absence of Malice is a fairly absorbing drama, but somehow it's never as compelling as you'd like it to be. The stakes never seem high enough. Directed by Sydney Pollack. The script is by Kurt Luedtke. With Wilford Brimley, Luther Adler, Barry Primus, and Josef Sommer.