Cover via Amazon

The Sam Raimi picture, Spider-Man (2002), starring Tobey Maguire, might have been released about the time the bullying of  kids was starting to receive a whole lot of contempt, for Peter Parker is bullied disgracefully by bigger dudes.  However, after turning into Spider-Man, he never avenges himself on his personal bullies but becomes a crime fighter instead, often rescuing the popular girl he loves, M.J. Watson (Kirsten Dunst).  Proof, this, that the boy is now a (Spider) man, as is the awful guilt he feels concerning the death of his uncle—which is no small burden for a young mensch.

Alas, the garish Green Goblin is sort of a villain on the cheap, but he certainly doesn’t spoil the nicely photographed fun.  Spider-Man is involving, vivacious, jokey—not to mention sexy-with-Dunst (and so not a complete family film).

Cover of A Touch of Class

The 1973 romantic comedy, A Touch of Class, is too mendacious to be good.  There is much about the extramarital union of Steve (George Segal) and Vicki (Glenda Jackson) that seems unlikely, including their early hotel-room wrangling, which is in fact worse than unlikely.  It’s bizarre and ill-fitting.

Although there is little romantic charm in Glenda Jackson, her acting is delightfully successful, as is that of Segal and others in the cast.  Directed and co-written by Melvin Frank, Class is intermittently funny, not to mention devoid of intercourse scenes and nudity.  And yet, truth be told, the film wants to be lighthearted or nonchalant about sexual perversion of more than one kind.  It isn’t, quite, but it wants to be.  Hence I say it has no more than touch of class.

Sherlock, Jr. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Things can get interesting in a love triangle but, for most of us, not as interesting as they get in our dreams.  Expect a Buster Keaton character to have a most alarming slapstick dream.

If you like the films of the silent comedians, Sherlock Jr. (1924) is one of the best.  It is, in fact, a nearly perfect cinematic farce—a farce replete with terrific sight gags and, at 44 minutes, utterly without filler.  Keaton had no hand in writing it, as he did some of his other films, but as actor and director he was an undeniable master of execution.

Cover of Kick-Ass

I happened to read the second volume of Kick-Ass (titled Prelude: Hit Girl) before reading the first volume, but it hardly mattered.  I was not at all confused by either volume, especially after seeing the movies, although I found myself surprised that the well-liked first flick wasn’t terribly faithful to Mark Millar‘s graphic novel.  (But it was faithful enough.)

The story in Kick-Ass, like the artwork, holds my attention, and even more pleasing are the sometimes funny details.  As usual, that John Romita Jr.-Tom Palmer-Dean White artwork is hideously bloody, and Millar’s dialogue, etc. is not only anti-liberal but stunningly and aggressively so.  A few feminists have probably considered the book sexist, which it isn’t; but, oh, is it ever politically incorrect!

Overwhelmingly rowdy too.  I had a good time with it.

Cover of Anything Else

Re Anything Else (2003):

Apparently Woody Allen believes in themes, but don’t let that fool you.  Thematically this caustic, frequently funny, slightly absurdist movie goes almost nowhere.

Amiable Jerry (Jason Biggs), a comedy writer, falls for the unremittingly selfish Amanda (Christina Ricci) and is mentored by an atheistic crank acted by Allen himself.  I didn’t buy an iota of it.  In addition, there is a great deal of talk and much of it irritating, from Jerry’s fawning babbling to Amanda during their first encounter to Amanda’s remark about the “nihilistic pessimism” in the plays of Sartre and O’Neill.  Allen does not do slight absurdism well.  He’s too caught up in his own solipsism.