Thus it is in one of the highest budget films of all time that one gets to see so many intimate, indoor scenes, such emotional involvement; the plot is obviously twisted and winding, complete with bizarre, nonsensical stretches. This may be the only surrealistic blockbuster to date -- which incidentally allows Raimi to capture the full comicbook potential of his own way of filming. Editing feels madly impulsive and fluid, the plasticity of it all overwhelming the eye (eg Harry's gratuitous yet vengeance-motivated Parker chase that ends up with him hitting his head and forgetting all anger-- in a way he therefore obtained what he ran after!). Three villains, yet none of them really matter; most of their screentime is both burlesque and terrifying, and manages to encapsulate radically different dimensions of evil, to the point that good obviously undergoes its own share of self-criticism with the beautifully-crafted black Spider-Man. As in the previous films, private stakes are never separated from public emergencies, both being perfectly synchronized. Each time Parker's intimate life goes awry, he is no longer fit to perform as a professional hero. (For instance, he could not win back Mary Jane when he forsook his ongoing civic task in SM2.) This serves as a much more powerful metaphor for the hardship of nascent adulthood than the usual story-embedded-in-History trick American flicks seem to relish in.