Why oh why do we need another Spider-Man film? Truth of the matter is, we don’t. After Sam Raimi’s much superior editions which fused the original comic’s darker tones with a keen sense of adventure, director Marc Webb’s [(500) Days of Summer] version feels flat-footed. Its by-the-numbers plot (kinda like a TV pilot) drove us up the wall with its banality. Brit Andrew Garfield (The Social Network) cuts quite a dashing figure in the titular role, infusing his Peter Parker with a grittier boyish charm—the film’s only saving grace—compared to Tobey Maguire (who helmed the first three films). But there’s nothing in this film that is challenging to the viewer. Everything is so cleanly laid out like the ludicrous fight sequence towards the end where Spidey must web sling his way through neatly arranged cranes to get to baddie The Lizard. It’s utterly laughable. The film is so shockingly low on any creative or emotional impact, and falls too often on its rom-com subplot (reel life/real life couple Garfield and Emma Stone’s non-existing chemistry) to make it mildly engaging. What a tangled mess this is.