I waited until the last day it played the big Grossmont. My only regret over seeing it with a polite audience of four was missing out on a packed crowd’s catcalls at the mention of Marvel-denier Scorsese’s Goodfellas. The same pull that draws us to weekend binges of episodic TV tugs here. The connection is sparked by familiar faces doing the same thing week in and week out, pixelated comfort food with a bigger budget. During the ‘40s, Tom Holland might just have been another Frankie Darro; today he opens pictures. His character is a bit of an obsequious dullard. Peter’s smart enough to apply to MIT, but too stupid to know there’s an appeal process. From the safety of the Sanctum Sanctorum, Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) plays waspish chief (“Don’t call me sir!”) to our cub superhero. Director Jon Watts doesn’t tell a story so much as he moves the action from one explosion of effects to another. Peter’s confrontation with Doc Ock dispenses with a battle of wits in favor of CG warfare. Nothing is allowed to resolve without first consulting the effects budget. One can appreciate a fan’s delight at the sight of three generations of Spider-Men in one frame without sharing in it. (2021) — Scott Marks
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