“There’s a Hero in All of Us”: Revisiting Spider-Man 2 (Part 2 of 3)
The second installment of Sam Raimi's Spider-Man trilogy is one of my favorite things ever.
“It’s just the best movie of all time, what do you want from me?” is what I typed to start drafting this in Microsoft Word. The thing is, Spider-Man 2 is. Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy starring Tobey Maguire, plus all other Spidey movies, are back in theaters to celebrate the centennial of Columbia Pictures’, the studio behind all Spidey films. Raimi’s trilogy is quite significant to my love of movies, superheroes, and life. I recently went long on 2002’s Spider-Man, somehow more marvelous and human 22 years later. Its 2004 sequel improves on the first film in every conceivable way, becoming not just Rami’s masterpiece and the peak of its genre but, most importantly (because I write this Substack), among my very favorite movies.
Spider-Man 2 was announced mere days after its predecessor’s historic opening weekend to swing into theaters two years later. As Spider-Man grossed almost $823 million worldwide, the hype was monumental. Ten-year-old me could not contain himself and lamented a family road trip during the film’s June 30 release. I even tried coercing my parents to see it when we passed a theater on the drive home. They didn’t budge, something from which I’ve clearly moved on.
Preproduction began quickly if chaotically. Several writers submitted scripts: duo Alfred Gough and Miles Millar (Smallville, Shanghai Noon); David Koepp (Spider-Man, Panic Room); and Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist Michael Chabon (Wonder Boys). Raimi wanted the film to explore Peter’s turmoil over his responsibility and its consequences, ultimately seeing Peter fulfilled by heroism. Alvin Sargent, script doctor for the first film, sifted through each draft with Raimi, combining the best elements into a cohesive film. Final screenplay credit went to Sargent with Gough, Millar, and Koepp receiving story credits.
Parallel to writing, producers almost recast Maguire as the titular web-head due to a bizarre situation featuring Maguire’s longstanding back issues and salary renegotiations contributing to communication breakdowns. Then-President and Chief Operating Officer of Universal Studios and Maguire’s future father-in-law Ronald Meyer played peacemaker between actor and studio. What precisely happened is unclear, but Maguire takes much of the responsibility, presumably made easier by his reported $17 million payday. The kerfuffle inspired a scripted joke approved by Maguire; after falling a great height, he utters “My back, my back” while hunched over in agony.
Famous for playfully tormenting his actors (especially friend and longtime collaborator Bruce Campbell, who cameos in all three Spidey films), Raimi puts Peter through the ringer. Constantly looking disheveled, unable to keep a job, behind on his rent (as demanded by his riotously entertaining landlord, Mr. Ditkovich), and getting the crap beat out of him (an extra hitting Maguire’s head early in the film is actually Raimi), being Peter Parker is dreadful. Truly unable to catch a break, he can’t even get hors d'oeuvres at a gala he photographs for The Daily Bugle. Making Peter suffer is essential to Spider-Man 2’s success, as the film cleverly identifies his crimefighting alter ego as a source of tremendous angst. Peter is too consumed being Spider-Man, too burdened by responsibility, to do anything else.
Peter’s personal life is also in shambles. Harry Osborn (James Franco), Peter’s best friend, blames Spider-Man for the death of his father, Norman Osborn (Willem Dafoe). Harry does not know his father was secretly the Green Goblin and that he accidentally died fighting Spider-Man in the first film. Peter, understandably, distances himself from Harry, who is eventually consumed by pain. Furiously obsessing over Spider-Man, Harry drunkenly accuses Peter of betrayal and assaults him at the abovementioned gala. (No hors d'oeuvres and slapped in the face? Yeesh.)
Also possessing ire toward Peter is Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst), his love interest. They are clearly still in love, yet Peter, fearing the danger of his double life, sabotages togetherness at practically every opportunity, intentionally or resulting from his web-based responsibility. Their back-and-forth is the backbone of Spider-Man 2’s romance, as Peter and MJ both confront life without each other. MJ, upset and hurt by Peter (most primarily when he misses her play because he was busy webbing bad guys, causing her to angrily call him “an empty seat”), moves on and gets engaged, which Peter learns at this pivotal gala. (No hors d'oeuvres and slapped and the love of his life is marrying another man? Yikes!)
While he has Rosemary Harris’s Aunt May (who also struggles, facing foreclosure and continued grief over Uncle Ben’s death), Peter is scant on mentors to soothe his sorrow. Such a figure appears in Dr. Otto Octavius (Alfred Molina), a renowned scientist Peter idolizes. Peter and Octavius, sharing ideals of using their gifts to benefit mankind, bond, with an especially lovely scene between both and Octavius’s wife, Rosie (Donna Murphy); Molina and Murphy, wonderful character actors, effortlessly establish a warm relationship that models what Peter’s own could be. Tragedy strikes when Octavius’s fusion experiment, designed to provide renewable energy, fails, as Peter worried; the experiment destroys Octavius’s lab, kills Rosie, and fuses four mechanical arms to his body. Consequently driven insane by this plus the chattering of his AI arms (roll with it), supervillain Doctor Octopus is born.
It sucks to be Peter Parker, in large part because the responsibility of being Spider-Man sucks. His existential crisis manifests as a loss of his powers, and Peter wants free from that responsibility. After a moving scene literalizing Peter’s tension in the form of an imagined conversation with Uncle Ben, Peter throws his costume in the garbage and quits being Spider-Man, in an image directly recreated from the film’s comic inspiration. For a time, Peter is happy: He can finally attend class, work productively, pursue hobbies, and live a normal life.
Unfortunately, Peter’s happiness is fleeting, as forgoing his wall-crawler identity solves none of his problems but gives him new ones. At this point, it’s a challenge to offer reflective, thoughtful commentary (or whatever I do here) on the remainder of Spider-Man 2 beyond simply summarizing its second hour with versions of “I love this scene!” (I really do) and “this part is great!” (it really is). The back half of the film is loaded with moments I cherish that further push and grow its characters and their relationships.
Peter attempts to reconnect with Mary Jane, exhausting her to the point of uninviting him from her wedding. Nonetheless, she cannot quite quit him, longing for his affection despite her impending marriage. Adding to Peter’s remixed anguish is the rising crime rates due to Spidey’s absence. His conflict is further exacerbated by his failure to rescue innocents trapped in a burning building he encounters. Peter Parker couldn’t save everyone, but maybe Spider-Man could.
Yet, the most profound development occurs between Peter and Aunt May. Seeking to alleviate May’s guilt while unburdening his own, Peter confesses that his selfishness indirectly led to Uncle Ben’s death. May leaves Peter in silence, seemingly denying him his desired absolution. In a later scene, May forgives Peter, telling him she loves him and is proud of him. May then delivers the film’s thesis: “I believe there’s a hero in all of us that keeps us honest, noble, and finally allows us to die with pride. Even though sometimes we have to be steady and give up the things we want the most, even our dreams.” Harris delicately delivers the monologue while the camera pushes in on Peter, remembering what compelled him to sling webs in the first place. (A fan theory suggests May secretly knows Peter is Spider-Man, a reading I support.)
Having made some peace with his soul, Peter eventually springs back into action to rescue MJ from Doc Ock. (Ock previously struck a deal with Harry to receive necessary materials for his fusion experiment in exchange for bringing the latter Spider-Man, kidnapping MJ in the process because he’s now a Bad Guy™). Spidey’s return is jubilant, as he swings and shrieks like a man reborn while Danny Elfman’s theme soars. He’s back, and he’s happy about it this time.
Spider-Man 2’s climax is now in full swing, and it is one of the most spectacular sequences in all superhero filmmaking. Spidey and Ock’s battle brings them on, in, and around an aboveground subway train racing through New York. (So what if it’s actually a Chicago train? What other superhero can stand on the side of a train! It friggin’ rocks!) Peter cements his backness as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man when he stops the train from careening off track. Losing his mask in the scuffle, Peter passes out from exhaustion and is rescued by the train’s passengers, who, in another heartfelt moment of a film loaded with them, marvel at how someone so young risks so much for their safety, promising to protect his identity. Spidey saves that train, and that train saves Spidey.
Of particular effect to the train sequence is its score. Elfman, a longtime collaborator of Raimi who composed Spider-Man, described the scoring as a “miserable experience” because music from both the first film and additional composers replaced some of his original compositions in the final film. (One such additional composer, Christopher Young, went on to score Spider-Man 3; I’ll get to that.) An intrepid YouTuber restored Elfman’s unused cues in the train sequence. While Elfman’s music is more stylistically appropriate to the overall score, Young’s new cues more firmly ratchet up the tension, adding to the sequence’s overwhelming power.
Doc Ock provides good on his word, giving an unconscious webslinger to Harry and scurrying off to do science. Exposing Peter’s secret identity becomes a running thread in the climax, as Harry finds out his former best friend and the superhero involved in his father’s death are one in the same (awkward). Driven deeper into despair, Harry hallucinates a conversation with Norman who dramatically shouts “AVENGE ME!”, revealing to his son he was the Green Goblin (awkward-er, but good sequel setup).
Also discovering Peter’s identity yet pursuing a less vengeful path is Otto Octavius. In their final fight at the collapsed pier operating as Ock’s lair, Peter attempts to save his eight-limbed former mentor and unmasks himself, echoing Octavius’s words of the privilege of intelligence and repeating May’s speech: What better way to show your hero learned his lesson than by using it to redeem the villain of the picture? Molina makes the most of Octavius’s reclamation, returning deep pathos to his performance to sell his final line, “I will not die a monster,” as he sacrifices himself to save the city from his doomed experiment.
The not-so-secret identity motif concludes when Peter turns around from Octavius to see Mary Jane, staring at him in stunned silence. The two finally acknowledge their feelings for each other, yet Peter again denies a relationship, still fearing harm coming MJ’s way (a valid concern, given that MJ is the most chronically abducted person in America). Spidey swings away, leaving Mary Jane to her fiancé and the police. (The small moment where Peter looks back at MJ as the music swells is maybe my favorite little touch in the movie.)
Mary Jane, however, does not let Peter make the final decision, leaving her fiancé at the altar and running across town in her wedding gown. (Raimi allows Peter and MJ to be messy, something I love that Spider-Man 3 heightens.) She softly admonishes Peter’s choosing for her, saying “here I am, standing in your doorway. I’ve always been standing in your doorway.” Dunst, lit angelically, is marvelous, reviving the winsome girl next door missing from most of the movie. Peter simply replies “Thank you, Mary Jane Watson” as they passionately embrace. Sirens cut their reunion short, and Spidey joyfully swings into action, his and Mary Jane’s souls healed… it seems? The film brilliantly closes on MJ’s enigmatic expression, wonderfully ending on a note of uplifted uncertainty. We may not know “what now?”, but that high of Peter and Mary Jane finally both getting what they want sings.
Spider-Man 2 has quite the legacy. Contemporary praise was strong (see legendary film critic Roger Ebert’s effusive review), and time has been tremendously kind to the film; even after the onslaught of superhero films (many featuring Spidey), it’s frequently lauded as among the best of the genre, if not its absolute pinnacle. Part of that legacy is Spider-Man 2.1, an extended cut created in Spider-Man 3’s promotion. Its eight extra minutes add characterization and action flourishes, but 2.1 is largely superfluous; while a neat curio for the real heads (me), nothing in it is not already present and better in the theatrical cut.
Raimi, hearing of a rapturous crowd’s reaction to the film’s rerelease, humbly says, “I really appreciate the crowd liking the movies.” He credits its resonance to its themes: “[Audiences] can make the right choices, they can do the right thing. And to see it play out on the screen is affirming.” Based on the challenge I had writing this (if nothing else), Raimi’s right. Spider-Man 2 reinforces that doing the right thing is rewarding, that selflessness is empowering – even if it means giving up the thing we want the most. Sometimes, however, that thing we want the most comes back.