Studio Notes on Spider-Man: Home for the Holidays

FROM: Earl J. Woods
TO: Jeff Shyluk, Executive Producer, Paranoid Productions
RE: SPIDER-MAN 4--Studio Notes

Jeff, 

As always, your notes are spot-on, especially given the reasonable skepticism we're facing from Disney, Sony, and the fans given our position as new kid in town with the IP. Getting them was a coup, but making a good movie is the only way the gamble is going to pay off. 

Totally understand your concerns about Gwen's agency, the overall weakness of the third act, and tropes we've seen before; we absolutely do not want to do MJ over again, or Raimi's work. Your observation regarding Spider-Man's effect on his world vs. Rick Deckard's is spot on. 

I agree that the relationship between Peter and the Stacy's is the core of the film, and we'll build on that core in future treatments. 

It might be more realistic for Peter to get hauled in for suspicion regarding the Christmas Eve car bomb, but I'm resistant--I feel like Captain Stacy really wants to be in Peter's corner despite his suspicions. On the other hand, if Stacy stops his detectives from questioning Peter, he's undermining his authority. 

Damn. Don't see that I have a choice. Peter's going to have to face some tough questions from our John Munch figure. (Maybe played by Bruce Campbell?) 

Might not make sense for Kingpin to car bomb Stacy, you're right. Could be a mook with too much initiative (not Bullseye, someone lower level - maybe a comic-relief type character we introduce into Kingpin's organization earlier in the film). 

Your final suggestion could save the third act. I'm going to scrap the idea of Bullseye kidnapping her. Her being an unwitting pawn of the Kingpin is far more organic. She'll still play a key roll in our Die Hard-esque showdown, but instead of playing the damsel in distress, she'll be in a (very dangerous) position to help Spider-Man--working behind the scenes to sabotage the Kingpin's men while trying not to give herself away. 

Captain Stacy and the NYPD will have an important role to play in the third act, too--they won't be standing idly by. In the comics and some of the films, the people of NYC helping Spider-Man save the day is a key theme--the community is just as important (more important!) than the singular hero. 

Kind of surprised Disney hasn't suggested any cameos--I was sure they'd want Daredevil involved somehow. Gotta have that corporate synergy. Hell, I'll put him in the post-credit scene as a hedge. 

I'll send another treatment in a few days. 

Excelsior! 

The Artist

I painted an artist! Probably a better artist than me. As if I could claim that title. But still, down with metanarrative! 

The O'Neal Connection

WARNING: SPOILERS for LOVE STORY and WHAT'S UP, DOC? 

Late last year, as part of my ongoing quest to see every Motion Picture Academy Best Picture nominee, I screened Arthur Hiller's Love Story (1970), starring Ryan O'Neal and Ali MacGraw as the two young lovers in question.

Love Story, sad to say, is not a great film; it's certainly one of the weakest Best Picture nominees. The story itself is trite and the dialogue overwrought; the cinematography and direction is workmanlike. These days, the movie is probably most remembered for its infamous tagline, "Love means never having to say you're sorry," delivered to O'Neal by MacGraw's tragically doomed character during the tearful final act.

Enough said about Love Story. Last week, I watched the far better What's Up, Doc?, Peter Bogdanovich's 1973 take on 1930s romantic slapstick. That movie is great fun, and stars O'Neal as a nerdy scientist pursued by an amorous Barbara Streisand. There's a mixup involving secret documents, diamonds, rocks, and lingerie, each stored in one of four identical suitcases. Hijinks ensue, including a really terrific chase sequence in the third act.

Most satisfying for me, though, was getting to enjoy what must have been a beautiful treat for in-the-know moviegoers of the early 1970s: At the film's conclusion, when O'Neal and Streisand's characters finally hook up and all the romantic tension is happily resolved, O'Neal's character apologizes to his new girlfriend.

"Don't worry about it," Streisand replies. "Don't you know that love means never having to say you're sorry?"

O'Neal, with perfect delivery, sneers and says "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." The end.

It's a silly little in-joke, yes, but it must have earned some great laughs back in the day. It certainly got one from me, nearly fifty years later.