SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING (2017) FILM REVIEW

**
​12A, 133 Mins

Cartoonish Spidey spins a web of Marvel materialism.

“Why?” is the word that swirled round my head following the whiningly whimsy end credits of ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming’ (2017).
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Ironic given it’s been a mere 3 years since over-obsessive Spidermaniacs asked that very same question about ‘The Amazing Spider-Man 2’ (2014). A film which felt less like a movie than a feature-length trailer for future Sony instalments.

Boy, believe me! That flawed sequel felt like ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ compared to this lumpen exercise in materialistic movie marketing.

Despite their increasing over-reliance on franchise-building, it’s rare a Marvel movie has felt this lacking in heart, brains or soul.

Hiring newcomer film-maker Jon Watts (director of indie hit ‘Cop Car’ (2015)), the studio have created a saggy Spider-Man strenuously stranded between dingy ‘Diary of a Wimpy Kid’ and aggressive ‘Avengers’ advert.

Skipping over Spidey’s radioactive origins, 20 year old Tom Holland is the latest “geeky” incarnation of Peter Parker. 

As established in last year’s ‘Captain America: Civil War’ (2016), he’s a prodigy of Robert Downey Jr.’s smoothly smarmy Tony Stark (little more than a creepy CEO uncle here!).

By night, he may behave like a cocky brat disarming Hulk-faced bank robbers. Yet only after silencing pervy shop owners swooning over “smokin’ hot” aunt May (Marisa Tomei), going girl-spotting with “obese” best mate Ned (Jacob Batalon) and getting aroused by “girl next door” Liz Allen (Laura Harrier).

All within the comforts of retina-scorching school corridors; populated in all corners by caricatured stereotypes of Italians, Indians and Chinese.

In one scene, Downey’s Stark phones our titular hero from an Indian palace featuring no one, but turbaned princes and sari-dressed princesses dancing jolly to Bhangra!

“Pray to Ganesh for that!” he quips when handing a “servant” his empty shot of Scotch!
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At the risk of being branded a PC addict gone mad, I struggled to not be minutely offended. Being half-Indian myself and all!

Frankly I’d be willing to overlook that “accidentally racist” remark if the rest of the film wasn’t such a damp squib.

Playing the web-slinger like a 14 year old fussing over his cheap Christmas gizmos, Holland’s Spidey sets new records for irritation. Lacking the minimum requirements for a 0.5 dimensional character, there’s an agonizing arrogance pouring from this Mr. Parker’s mouth. 

One yearned for the angst, anxiety and awkwardness of Andrew Garfield’s amazing rendition.

Perhaps that is what Director Watts intended for this re-imagining. The film’s retro cinematography and hormonal oglings give an 80s teen movie vibe in vein of ‘The Breakfast Club (1985).

Too bad there’s no depth here! Any attempt at adolescence coming off like a cringey ‘Simpsons’ parody. Minus “SPIDER PIG, SPIDER PIG”!

Of course, this takes back-stage to the excessive franchising at work.
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If you downed a Jagerbomb over every product placed snap of Doritos, Pizza Hut and Coca Cola clogging the production, no doubt you’d be bladdered! 

​Though you’d be paralytic if the same test was to be performed with the biggest brand on display – the Marvel Cinematic Universe!

From the heights of Stark Tower to Thor’s hammer, you might as well have carved a mammoth Marvel sculpture from every frame. Virtually every aspect appears crafted by a commercialistic committee of a corporation; in hunt of every last cent from your bankrupt wallets!

There’s nothing that remotely stands alone. Nothing outside of an ongoing continuum. Not even routinely fantastic Michael Keaton’s receding-haired, villainous Vulture!

A late-in the-game cameo from Captain America delivers a life-affirming message...

"Makes you wonder why you waited so long for something so disappointing. How many more of these?” the Cap preaches.

What a perfect metaphor for Marvel’s declining superhero state! Not that we needed explaining!