I'd like to have my memory erased

It is quite possible that no amount of drugs or alcohol or even blows to the head can erase my memory of the two and a half hours wasted last night. two and a half hours of my life that i'll never be able to retrieve, but the memory of which will remain indelibly etched into my brain.

I didn't witness a murder, break up with a girlfriend or even have to eat at taco bell. No, something far worse. you see, i took it upon myself to witness firsthand the remains of a once brilliant career in film direction: the career of not one but two heroes quickly spiralling down the toilet. to be precise, the careers of Sam Raimi (director of the greatest trilogy of all time) and man among men Bruce Campbell ("It's good to be the King").

By now, i'm sure you've realized that i'm rather obliquely referring to Spiderman 3. It has been reviewed to death at this point so i won't bother to enumerate the myriad ways in which this film completely fails all expectations of what a reasonably entertaining film shoud be. and by "film" I am referring, in this context, to the mindless summer blockbuster variety. Rather than a review, consider this a warning, somewhat of a public service. save yourself while you still can.

OK, so there's gotta be a positve somewhere, right? well, yea, sorta. This won't be too much of a spoiler so i'll mention it. The one moment in the film when i felt the script, acting, direction didn't totally fail was the restaurant scene in which Bruce Campbell plays the French maitr d'. a fine sequence, but unfortunately a wasted effort amidst the other two hours and fifteen minutes of torture.

So there you have it. view at your own risk. Or just wait for Transformers. which will also suck. but at least it has robots.