Spider-Man 3

A web stretched too thin

Action/Sci-fi ‧ 139 minutes ‧ PG-13 ‧ 2007

"We always have a choice"

Spider-Man 3 is often defended today as a misunderstood conclusion, a film that was slammed on release and later reclaimed through nostalgia and online fandom. That defense gives the movie more generosity than it earns. While time has softened some of the backlash, it has not revealed a hidden masterpiece beneath the surface. The film is frequently overrated in modern reassessment, and while that does not mean it is without strengths, it also does not mean it is truly good. Spider-Man 3 tries to do everything at once, stretching itself across multiple villains, love triangles, and emotional arcs that compete for attention, and the result is a finale that mistakes excess for depth

Starring Tobey Maguire, James Franco, and Kirsten Dunst reprising their roles from the original films, with Thomas Haden Church, Topher Grace, and Bryce Dallas Howard joining the principal cast, the movie signals its ambition immediately. It wants to be big, dramatic, funny, dark, and sentimental all at once, and sometimes it almost succeeds. Harry Osborn suffers most from this approach. He is one of the most important characters in the trilogy, representing unresolved grief, inherited resentment, and the long shadow of his father’s legacy. Yet Spider-Man 3 repeatedly sidelines him, rushing through key developments only to reintroduce him when the plot demands it. His arc feels fragmented and inconsistent, as if the film cannot decide whether he is a central pillar of the story or a lingering obligation from earlier installments. What should have been a slow and tragic payoff instead becomes a series of abrupt turns that deny the character the focus and care he deserves.

On a technical level, Spider-Man 3 is arguably the strongest entry in the trilogy. The cinematography is the most confident and visually expressive, with richer compositions and more fluid camera movement than either of its predecessors, giving the film a heightened sense of scale and momentum. The action sequences are larger and more elaborate, staged with clarity and physicality that often impress even when the surrounding story struggles to keep pace. Sam Raimi still understands how to frame motion and spectacle, and the set pieces frequently feel grand rather than weightless, particularly the black suit sequences, which are genuinely thrilling. And while the movie struggles to keep the story in focus, you can’t deny that it still looks fantastic.

The problem is everything surrounding these technical achievements. Where Spider-Man 2 carefully expanded its characters and allowed emotional tension to build gradually, Spider-Man 3 overloads itself with too many arcs, motivations, and conflicts competing for attention. The soap opera elements that once added texture and relatability now overwhelm the film, escalating misunderstandings and melodrama without the patience or restraint that previously grounded them. Relationships feel less like lived experiences and more like plot mechanisms being shuffled into place, and the film often confuses emotional loudness with emotional depth.

Peter Parker’s characterization is another major point of friction. Peter acting like a jerk is not inherently a problem, and in fact, it is thematically appropriate. The black suit amplifying his arrogance, cruelty, and selfish impulses is a logical extension of the trilogy’s exploration of power and responsibility. However, the film does little to build toward this shift in behavior, making the transformation feel sudden rather than inevitable. Without the gradual accumulation of pressure and frustration that defined Peter’s struggles in the earlier films, his descent comes across as forced, making it harder to view his actions as tragic rather than simply irritating.

Venom represents the film’s most obvious misstep. Rather than being treated as a character with a meaningful relationship to Peter, Eddie Brock is positioned primarily as a final obstacle to overcome. Venom exists to raise the stakes rather than to reflect or challenge Peter in any meaningful way, which runs counter to the trilogy’s strongest storytelling instincts. As a result, the character feels underdeveloped and hollow, less a person shaped by resentment and obsession and more a symbol of the film’s excess. In a series built on emotional parallels between hero and villain, Venom feels oddly disconnected.

Despite all its flaws, there are quiet, human moments scattered throughout the film, brief flashes of what this series used to do best. When they appear, they remind you why Raimi’s Spider-Man movies can still hit emotionally, even if it is just for a second. Unfortunately, these moments are now the exception rather than the foundation. Where silence, stillness, and reflection once anchored the emotional core of the trilogy, Spider-Man 3 buries its introspection beneath constant motion and overlapping storylines. The film rarely allows its ideas or emotions the space to breathe, and when it does, it often moves on before they can fully land.

The score is a surprising highlight, though it comes under unusual circumstances. Danny Elfman departed the series before production, leaving Christopher Young to step in and compose new material. Young leans into darker textures and aggressive tonal shifts, particularly for the black suit, which effectively amplifies Peter’s arrogance, cruelty, and moral corruption. It adds menace and a sense of real danger to sequences that might otherwise have been silly, and in some scenes, it even makes you feel like you’re watching a Spider-Man movie you might actually fear a little. Still, it cannot fully disguise the fact that the story around it sometimes collapses under its own weight.

It is not difficult to understand why Spider-Man 3 was met with such disappointment upon release. The disappointment was not from hostility toward the franchise, but because expectations were set so high by two remarkably focused films. While the movie may play slightly better today with nostalgia’s rose-colored glow, familiarity does not make it misunderstood. This is a flawed conclusion to an otherwise excellent trilogy, a finale that gestures toward emotional resonance but rarely lands.

When you step back and look at Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy as a whole, it is a fascinating journey of growth, spectacle, and occasional chaos. The first film introduced a kid who could swing between skyscrapers but was grounded by grief, responsibility, and quiet heroism that still hits emotionally today. Spider-Man 2 then took that foundation and elevated it, showing the cost of heroism in an intimate and earned way, with characters and relationships that breathe and develop naturally. Spider-Man 3 tries to juggle too many characters, villains, and themes, and often trips over its own ambition.

Spider-Man 3 is not without merit. It is technically impressive, frequently entertaining, and thematically aligned with ideas Sam Raimi had been exploring throughout the trilogy. However, alignment alone is not execution. By stretching itself too thin, the film sacrifices coherence, character depth, and emotional restraint, leaving behind a conclusion that gestures toward something powerful but never fully becomes it. It gets a soild 3/5

(Somewhere inside this film is a great ending to the trilogy. It simply has to share it with James Brown.)