I saw Spiderman Three today.
I need to preface this by stating that Empire Strikes Back was on HBO while I was getting dressed, and I watched the whole thing, and I can quote every line and I totally know the fight choreography for the family reunion and ohmyGod Empire Strikes Back is amazing. So I went into Spiderman with the knowledge that I had just observed cinematic greatness and I would probably be supremely disappointed...
...and lord, was I right.
Spiderman 3 is joyless, flightless, and heavy-handed. The inclusion of Gwen Stacy was lame--I'm not even going to broach the issue of comic book continuity, because that blond-ass bitch should have been in the first movie and her ass should have died when Willem Dafoe threw her off the bridge but I said I wasn't going to talk about it so I won't. Dammit.
Anyhow. Thomas Hayden Church, who I generally enjoy, was beefy and one-note as Flint Marko, which I suppose is appropriate. Topher Grace was creepy and ridiculous but Venom freaks me the fuck out so that was fine. Glad they killed Harry, James Franco was useless once his face got blown to shreds, so his time in the series needed an end. Kirsten Dunst still needs to straighten her teeth--I know, I know, it's mean, and I don't care about how it looks but she's going to have some hardcore dental issues when she's fifty.
The real problem with the film? Fucking emo fucking Peter Parker pretending to be the far superior Peter Petrelli (Hi Milo! Call me!) with eyeliner and emo hair. Peter. Peter Parker. Why? I laughed so very hard, and not with you, but at you, at your eyeliner, and your ooky emo hair, and please please please don't ever do that to me again. I feel betrayed, Peter. Or should I say Sam. Yes I'm talking to you, Sam--I forbid you from directing The Hobbit now (if you're still in talks) because if you put Bilbo in eyeliner I will never ever ever forgive you. Like, ever.
Anyhow. Spiderman. Special effects, lots of fight scenes, and an extended bizarre emo pastoral that I would like to blot from my memory. Seriously.
In happier news Sci-Fi is having a Heroes marathon so I can purge my soul with a healthy dose of Milo and Masi and co. Who loves Heroes? I love Heroes. And this marathon of Heroes follows a marathon of Flavor of Love Girls: Charm School so today is an excellent day in tv land, which I needed after having my soul eaten by Peter Parker's eyeliner.
Last bit: I went to Busch Gardens yesterday. Road the Sheikra three times, twice in the front row. I highly, highly, highly recommend--it is difficult for a roller coaster to get me highly adrenalized and this one did. When the coaster reaches the top of the hill it stops--just before the descent. And I mean it pauses, and if you are in the front row you are literally dangling over the edge. The coaster is floorless, so the only thing keeping you from certain death is a harness. You are 200 feet in the air and you are hanging by a harness and suddenly the coaster just plunges and it is amazing. Sheikra gets top coaster rating, an accolade reserved for very few coasters--Millenium Force among them. Bravo Sheikra, bravo.
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