How critic-proof is 'Spider-Man'?

That show about the spider has broken so many records that it may well have broken the record for record-breaking on Broadway. Few of them, admittedly, are what producers would ordinarily consider desirable. But as we are told over and over and over, "Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark" means not to be judged by ordinary standards.

At Sunday's matinee, the record-breaking, rule-breaking, bone-breaking $65-million (and counting) mega-musical will officially play the most work-in-progress previews (98) that any producer in history had dared to pass off as full-price entertainment. (Jackie Mason's "A Teaspoon Every Four Hours" was the previous record-holder.) As we go to press, there are rumors of a (record-breaking sixth) postponement of the official opening, from March 15 to perhaps June or maybe never.

Lurking in the wings is also a record number of Off-Broadway spoofs (OK, three) aimed at beating the show to that March 15 opening. On March 13, "Spidermann," a transfer from Seattle, begins three performances at the Tank at 354 W. 45th St. The next night, at the People's Improv Theater, 123 E. 24th St., comes a single performance of Justin Moran's "The Spidey Project: With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility," proudly boasting a 30-day gestation and a budget of zero. And "Spidermusical," promising to be the "greatest musical involving spiders ever written," runs March 15-21 at the Mint Theatre, 311 W. 43rd St.

But here's a record that may be tough to bust. Has a show ever survived terrible reviews and continued to thrive like this at the box office?

Actually, yes. Plenty of them. Plays almost always have a tough time after being panned by the critics. But audiences for musicals - that is, a certain type of musical - are oblivious to the effects of withering opinion.

In the business, these are called critic-proof shows. "Spider-Man" appears to be heading into that impervious stratosphere. Its weekly grosses have stayed comfortably in the golden million-dollar club after being clobbered by most major critics, who bought their own tickets and stormed the barricades just before Feb. 7, the previously scheduled opening date.

But look around. "The Addams Family" has been among the top grossers most weeks since it opened in April to unflattering reviews. (Stagegrade.com, the website that collates criticism into letter grades, gives it a D+.) Even harder to remember is that "Wicked" - which topped all shows at $1,660,095 for the week ending Feb. 27 - was mostly dismissed by reviewers in 2003. (Stagegrade C+.) "Spider-Man," which still hasn't officially opened for professional reviews, was second in gross only to "Wicked" last week, despite a crop that landed it an F+.

Asked to explain the disparity between reviews and box office, producers for "The Addams Family" and "Wicked" declined to comment. Can you blame them? Why would anyone with a hit want to dredge up and remind people of unpleasant reviews?

In fact, the critic-proofing of shows is not a new phenomenon. It has a precise history that starts with the opening of "Cats" on Oct. 7, 1982. Correct that. This landmark marketing story began six months earlier, when a spooky pair of eyes started staring from buses, from newspapers, from the marquee at the theater.

A half a year before the show opened to wildly mixed reviews, it was a brand-name smash. We had been set up to believe it had been a huge hit forever and that we'd better contribute to the zooming advance sale before the tickets were all sold out.

None of this must seem revolutionary in a time of instant communication. After the selling of "Cats," however, old-school Broadway hucksters looked like pushcart salesmen. The show became the first of the mega-musicals, a breakthrough into the most sophisticated strategy Broadway had seen - and the first to package minor and/or potboiler themes into major overblown theme-park experiences.

Press agents don't want to talk to me about their techniques these days. But back in 1987, months before the opening of "Les Misérables," I was walked through the steps of critic-proofing by Fred Nathan, press agent for "Cats," "Les Miz" and most of the mega-musicals of canny British producer and gonzo-souvenir genius Cameron Mackintosh.

Nathan, who died in 1994, started the "Les Miz" campaign 14 months before it opened. Buses plastered with images of the woebegone girl with the huge eyes were wringing people's hearts all over town. Bookers for group sales and theater parties were primed eight months before the show opened.

These mega-musicals, which include "Spider-Man," have several things in common. They have familiar stories. They have music that sounds like music we've heard before. They turn their production price tags into a part of the attraction, like a designer label. And almost all have made pre-opening headlines with extra-theatrical news - the hiring of an English actor to play an Asian in "Miss Saigon," the threat by composer Andrew Lloyd Webber to deny us "Phantom of the Opera" if producers didn't hire his then-wife, Sarah Brightman.

Before long, we were habituated to the blockbuster mentality, to the Big Event concept of theatergoing that virtually obliterated the little shows that used to be the everyday life and heart of the theater. We became used to extravaganzas with no-name actors who are easy to replace, and with as few words as possible, all the better to attract foreign tourists and cash in on global touring circuits.

Sound familiar?

Just look what the "Cats" dragged in. Of course, "Spider-Man" just might rewrite history by never opening officially at all. Such a question is circling the theater like a buzzard over a wounded tasty morsel. Wags have changed the joke about the March 15 "hopening" to a "fauxpening" and now, just maybe, a "nopening." Records have been broken with less.