As a story, the original "Spider-Man" exists in two worlds, making it hard to adapt to one cohesive story. Marvel has always defined itself differently from its competition. DC comics tend to portray the superhero as legend — mythical world-savers like Superman and Batman. These are broad archetypes of the hero, already form-fit to make movie franchises. Marvel, on the other hand, tends to set heroes in folktales. They are young, imperfect trickster characters who make wisecracks while fighting personal battles. Spider-Man is just a kid coming of age while tying up muggers in the real city of New York, not an epic crusader battling death personified in an anonymous Metropolis. At the same time, though, "Spider-Man" is told in epic form, with episodes of great character tragedy and struggle told over a long period of time. The task put to screenwriter David Koepp and director Sam Raimi was to condense that epic form without making the film seem like a small folktale.

Koepp handles his task admirably. Most of the story of Spider-Man's origin has stood up well to the test of time. Peter Parker, a nerdy high schooler, gets bit by a radioactive spider (now genetically modified to better suit our current scientific phobias) giving him heightened agility, the ability to climb walls and an instinct against danger. Selfish use of his powers indirectly results in the death of his uncle, who had been a father to him. With newfound duty, Peter fights crime as Spider-Man, eventually going up against a super villain, the Green Goblin, the deranged father of Peter's best friend. All the while, Peter pines away for his unrequited love, Mary Jane Watson.

It is indeed a huge story to get through, and Koepp makes interesting retooling choices. For instance, Peter may still be a science wiz in the film, but he no longer invents his own web shooters. Now they go off unexpectedly and embarrassingly as a biological change, a kind of homage to male puberty. Koepp also combines "Spider-Man's" two great love interests, Mary Jane and Gwen Stacy, for twice the peril in one character. Meanwhile, he stays true to most details of the original. That Spider-Man still tries to make it first as a professional wrestler somehow still remains valid. And, the personal ties between the characters remain the same.

The problems come as Koepp tries to re-inject some of the larger themes of the Spider-Man pseudo-epic. There is so much story to get through that the emotional moments must be crammed in with greater intensity, often coming off schmaltzy. Aunt May's screamed Lord's Prayer in front of a hovering Green Goblin is too much even for comic book standards. Mary Jane's almost rhyming admission of love comes out like molasses. A show of New Yorkers' unity reads as stale only a few months after its real-life equivalent has started to fade away.

At the same time, though, it's hard to guess at what could have been cut to make room for better emotional scenes. The first chapter of Spider-Man's existence is a long one, with his origin, love story and first major enemy to get through. (Fortunately, Koepp knows to stop before the second chapter, which unfortunately involves alien costumes, secret-agent parents and clones.) Even a demanding viewer has to forgive the little things lost in translation.

Director Raimi has similarly tough choices to make in translating the visual aspects of the comic, especially because movies' visual opportunities also represent certain limitations. Raimi, a fan of the comic, goes directly to the original artwork for inspiration and re-creates it well. His adaptation shows respect to the colors and costumes of the comic book, something that has been lacking in recent adaptations like X-Men and Batman and Robin. (In fact, Joel Schumacher's Batman and Robin can be seen as one of the ultimate failures of adaptation, attempting to translate the already-marred television version of a comic. The effect was like a horribly failed game of telephone.)

Raimi also finds the correct setting for Spider-Man — grandiose New York skyscrapers that dwarf the swinging hero during the day, and cramped, hidden alleys at night. Unfortunately, the movement allowed to the movie camera in place of the comic frame loses some of the excitement. In the comic, Spider-Man skitters across anchored rooftops, flipping off stationary flagpoles waiting just for him. The moving camera, though, makes everything seem to zoom into place just in time for Spidey to land.

There are also problems from computer animation trying to stay true to live-action photography. Spectacular aerial stunts and jumps seem slightly out of place. Perhaps it is the rubbery body of Spider-Man; trying to create the stretch of the real costume smoothes out most of the body's lines, making it look something like a Stretch Armstrong doll. It might have worked better with the exaggerated angularity of the video game or cartoon versions of the body. The Green Goblin, with his new jagged body armor, comes across as less noticeably animated. With slightly less attention to photorealism, perhaps people would be less likely to complain about Spider-Man's apparent weightless landings and take them more in the spirit of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Special effects aside, Raimi does a wonderful job at directing the actors. He gets the best delivery possible out of a perfectly cast group. Tobey Maguire does an amazing job as a Peter Parker astounded at his newfound power. At the same time, he hides that confidence until the mask goes on, cracking jokes with ease. Willem Dafoe manages to create a fearless, threatening presence using only his voice behind a rigid mask, and when freed of that mask, contorts his face and body to create two vivid personalities — it may start out as Jekyll-and-Hyde stuff, but Dafoe blends the two to make something even creepier. James Franco, as Peter's friend Harry, finds all the complexity and contradiction in his character. Finally, Kirsten Dunst really does light up the screen with a mix of innocence and exhaustion. All the problems found in trying to condense the huge story of Spider-Man fall away as all the actors bring it back to a personal, human level.

It is that personal story that Koepp and Raimi translate so well in Spider-Man. There remains the awkward mix between folktale and epic, but it's true to the awkwardness of the comic that so many have loved and grown up on. For all the conventions that comics share with movies — stunning visuals, coming-of-age themes, frames as time editing — they still have a different vocabulary and grammar. That the filmmakers can make Spider-Man both exciting and personal is an impressive achievement, and any clumsiness along the way is easily excused by the end of the film.

— Andy Ross (apross@earthlink.net)