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Yojimbo81
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Spider-Man 3 (2007)
Inessential addition to the Spider-Man canon
When the sequel question comes up in Scream 2, the film's cast of hardened nerds compile a familiar list of the follow-ups that actually improved on their originals. The Godfather Part II, Aliens, Terminator 2, The Empire Strikes Back... If the mantra sounds familiar, it's probably because the same names came up when you had this discussion yourself. When it comes to good sequels, there simply ain't much to choose from.
For all its knowingness, Scream 2 wouldn't end up making it into this list (in fact, you'll probably find that most of the people who enjoyed even the first movie have since disowned it). Were the film's characters to have the same debate today, though, they might well have mentioned Spider-Man 2. As sequels go, it was very good indeed, expanding and improving on both the action sequences and the character development of its predecessor while delivering the one thing that film lacked: a truly great villain.
This latest installment in the adventures of everyone's favourite masked menace doesn't, sadly, manage to repeat that trick. Bogged down by a script that tries to cram far too much into far too little space, it's a busy, convoluted mess that's eerily redolent of that other recent superhero trequel, X-Men: The Last Stand.
This time around, closet webslinger Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) is beset with problems. Riding high on the public's adoration of his masked alter ego, he doesn't notice that his relationship with Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst) is floundering, or that one-time pal Harry Osborn (James Franco) seems to be following in his psychotic father's footsteps. To make matters worse, there's a plucky freelance photographer (Topher Grace) looking to oust Peter from his job, while the man who really killed Uncle Ben in Part 1 suddenly appears on the scene... and he's made of sand. Oh, and then there's that bit of alien gloop that landed in Central Park while Peter and MJ were making out, and now seems intent on turning Spidey blacker than black.
Confused? That's only the half of it. There's enough material for a couple of movies here, and by the end you may find yourself wishing that Raimi had saved some of it for later. Despite a tortuous running time, almost everything about Spider-Man 3 feels rushed, the plot developments flashing past like a caffeine-fuelled Powerpoint presentation. Parker's flirtation with the dark side is almost absurdly camp, while the last-minute introduction of a new villain in the final reel may leave even the most dedicated fanboys feeling a bit cheated. The only segments given ample breathing space throughout are the action set pieces - which, though undeniably impressive, move from dazzling to deadening with each repetition (and trust me, there's a lot of them).
To be fair, this is by no means the train wreck that the third X-Men flick was. Raimi is no Ratner, and he still delivers enough choice moments to keep the popcorn-munching masses happy. Yet there's no escaping the fact that Spider-Man 3 replaces the greatness of its predecessors with a cinematic experience that's merely kinda okay. It's hard not to wish that they'd called it quits after the second film - and quietly pray that the talks over a possible Part 4 come to nought.
Hatsukoi (2006)
Disappointing rendition of an intriguing story
The largest robbery in Japan's history was a decidedly humdrum affair. On December 10th 1968, a police motorbike intercepted a car transporting bonus money to the factories of Toshiba in Fuchu, Tokyo. Convincing the car's occupants that their vehicle had been rigged with explosives, the rider let them scarper and then pinched it, complete with the contents of its trunk: cases containing 300 million yen. Despite a massive investigation, police never apprehended the culprits, and the case was closed in 1975.
That wouldn't be the end of it, though. Over 30 years later, a little-known writer going by the name of Misuzu Nakahara penned Hatsukoi, an autobiographical novel in which she claimed to be the mysterious rider. At the time of the robbery, she was only a high school student.
It's a ripe topic for filming, and Yukinari Hanawa's picture seems to have a lot stacked in its favor: a decent budget, evocative counter-culture settings and indie it-girl du jour Aoi Miyazaki in the title role. We follow Misuzu as, escaping a dismal home life, she starts hanging out with her brother and his mates at a scummy red light district jazz bar. There, she's drawn to the intelligent, aloof Kishi (Keisuke Koide), who buries his nose in books as he harbors plans for a perfect heist.
Plenty of dramatic potential here, then, but Hatsukoi is a curiously enervated piece of work, forever teetering on the brink between subtle and downright dull. Central to its problems is Miyazaki herself: her Misuzu is little more than a cipher, drifting impassively from one situation to the next. We're left with a gaping hole where the heart of this film should be, and the support cast struggle to fill it.
Given that the veracity of the source novel is hotly disputed, too, it seems odd that Hanawa should choose to do such a straight reading. I found myself longing for the ambiguity of, say, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, where you were never quite sure if the protagonist was a covert operative or merely a crackpot.