IT'S been only five years since Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) netted Sarah Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst) in his spideyweb, later getting stuck down into a relationship in the superior blockbuster that was Spider-Man 2. But now in Spider-Man 3, while Peter spins a hammock so they can cuddle under the stars, he is otherwise too busy being a superhero to notice that things are not going so well. It seems that old entanglement . . . man-woman misunderstanding . . . is beginning to strangle the relationship. Sarah Jane wants to talk. Sarah Jane feels neglected. Sarah Jane is falling for another man. Oh dear.

They could have called this Spider-Man 3: The Seven-Year Itch.

Peter has other problems to scratch too. At his day job as a photographer on The Daily Bugle, slimeball Eddie Brock Jr (Topher Grace) is getting the edge with better snaps of Spider-Man, and his editor (played by the rambunctious JK Simmons) is losing faith. Peter has to deal with the affections of Police Captain Stacy's daughter Gwen (Bryce Dallas Howard), and build up the courage to ask Sarah Jane to marry him. (What a ceremony that would be: 'do you take this man to be your lawful webbed husband. . .') When a squid-like inky alien called a symbiote crashes to earth in a meteorite, it attaches to his skin turning his suit black, and gives him extra powers. It also brings out some unsavoury aspects of his personality: when his relationship hits rock bottom, Spidey enjoys hanging out on the dark side for a while.

As if all that weren't enough, he has to do battle with the city's villains. Harry Osborn's alter-ego New Goblin (James Franco) has plans to kill Peter under the misbelief he killed his dad who was dealt with in the first film; Eddie Brock Jr develops the frightening identity Venom, a Spider-Manlike creature with fangs and a reptilian snarl; while Thomas Haden Church, the burly wineguzzling jock from Sideways, turns up as petty thief Flint Marko. He now looks like a giant beer monster after he falls into a particle accelerator (as you do) and becomes the Sandman, a shape-shifting sandstorm of fury.

It turns out that it was actually Flint Marko who killed Peter's uncle, and not the robber who was dispatched through a window in Spider-Man 1, so revenge is on the cards too. "Where do all these guys come from?" asks Spider-Man, dusting some sand out of his mask. And you find yourself sympathising. He might well have asked too: "And what about all this plot?"

It is written by Sam and Ivan Raimi and Alvin Sargent (who had a hand in Spider-Man 2) and once again Sam Raimi directs.

But I wouldn't put even small change on him helming the already announced next three sequels.

Spider-Manmight be Raimi's creation (he lifted the series out of the mire of two-dimensional superheroes and then outdid himself with Spider-Man 2, a blockbuster that actually breathed with great characters) but here he is going through the motions. He has thrown an awful lot of everything at the screen in the hope that some will stick. But the film has to do battle with an element it cannot overcome: the loss of novelty. If Spider-Man 2 was a great superhero film, then Spider-Man 3 is only an enjoyable one.

While the plot sweats overtime, the action sequences come with a hyper-energy so thick and fast, they look designed to trick the eye. This might be the case: I suspect there are only so many ways Spidey can spin and be slung off skyscrapers and the effect here is they look like rubbery stand-ins. But Sandman, stuck on the streets, is great fun, smashing up New York with a giant sand-fist. Action, though, has never been to the forefront of the Spider-Man films, and if Spider-Man 2 was an allegory for adolescents about growing up, this is all about the balancing act of early adulthood, and the importance of choosing right.

And boy, does it get heavy on the moralising. If you don't leave the cinema glowing with newfound moral certitude, then there really is no hope for civilisation. Even the villains repent their poor choices . . . whatever happened to good old-fashioned megalomania?

When Peter's short-lived darkside emerges (when not in Spidey costume, he dresses in a new black suit and combs his fringe down), the film lets its hair down too. Peter walks the street like John Travolta on a Saturday night, thinking he's a hit with the ladies.

He hits a jazz bar where Sarah Jane sings but with Gwen on his arm . . . with the surfeit of supernasties running around, it's a good thing for the film that Sarah Jane keeps her green-eyed monster in check. It's an amusing aside that helps to prop up the sagging narrative and the film struts it big for a while. But conscience gets the better and soon he is on the side of right, battling with Sandman, and another lastact villain thrown in to thicken the action. He gives it his all. But I walked out of the film thinking that this time, Spidey is all spun out.