My Spidey Sense Is Tingling, And I'm Going To Hell For It

The disclaimer first: despite fears that it would be too frenetic (and it was, a bit), I quite enjoyed Spider-Man 3: it had laughs, realistic relationship difficulties, Bryce Dallas Howard looking quite lovely, amazing effects, and genuine conflicts both internal and external. It lacked the emotional resonance of the second movie or the fan familiarity of the first, but it made a respectable showing.

Except for two little things (well, more than two, but we'll leave out the selectively maiming goblin grenades and yet another trip down "Surely Spidey Cannot Do Two Things At Once!" Lane):

1. Is there any way to arrest the Osborn familly butler as an accessory?

With his remark about seeing all kinds of things in "this house," Harry's manservant (heh) opens new and unwholesome avenues for speculation. What exactly has he been keeping quiet about for two-and-a-half films? People drinking too much? Trying on masks? Talking to oil paintings? Carrying big boxes marked "Acme Goblin Grenades"? Isn't this what Law & Order calls "depraved indifference to human life"?

Worse, the only way to explain his sudden willingness to spill the beans on Harry's father is a secret crush on MJ, since not until she's in trouble does he go into the pep talk business.

2. The Moral Spider

Look. I'm familiar with the broad conventions of comic book writing, particularly old-school comics, as regards being a good guy: Good guys should be good. All the time. No matter what. No one wants to see Superman heat-vision a puppy because he didn't get laid last night, etc. These characters, Spidey included, are frequently held to A Higher Standard. (You might even say Spidey especially, since three seconds of teenage assholishness contributed to the death of Uncle Ben.)

But c'mon, the karmic burden was surely running a little high this time? Peter Parker, emboldened by the black suit, exposes Eddie Brock for a fraud. He didn't do it nicely, but he didn't, oh, SUE him the way most people would in a clear case of copyright infringement. Yet he makes a deadly enemy, and we have Mary Jane literally dangling in the breeze once more.

The world of Spider-Man is a world where somehow it is more respectful to lash someone to a flagpole with your arm secretions than to tell him to f*** off, an After-School Special kind of place where people who sneak a wine cooler end up as pregnant runaway meth addicts.

Surely there's a better definition of "great responsibility" than "be nice or else"?