Written by: Mark Fergus, Hawk Ostby, Art Marcum and Matt Holloway
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, Terrence Howard, Jeff Bridges
Whilst I was away at the OH Bureau I did manage to get my monthly prescription of Bad-ass from "Iron Man," not once, but twice within about two weeks. The film about Marvel Comics' weapons monger-turned-superhero is hardly perfect, but it's got panache and a devoted sense of death-metal infused spectacle that feels less like a movie and more like you've just sped down Highway 1 in a muscle car. In other words, it's an awesome dude movie.
Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is a heartless businessman who surrounds himself with babes, toys and everything else that an endless amount of money can buy. But then he gets captured by a vague Arab-based terrorist organization, meets a nice doctor who teaches him what's really important in life, and escapes by building the first Iron Man suit out of metal scraps that he finds in a cave. He then becomes a crusader, destroying the weapons he made that have fallen into the wrong hands. He's flanked by his dedicated assistant, Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) and military man Lt. Rhodes (Terrence Howard), and must grapple with his former partner with the kick-ass villain name of Obadiah Stane (Jeff Bridges).
This is a film that doesn't really hold up to repeat viewings. The first time I saw it, I was blown away by the spectacular action sequences, the excellent soundtrack, and Downey's intense, frenetic performance. It's the giddy sense of being blown down that highway with an engine humming under your body. But with a second viewing the seams start to show. I was continually irked by the film's vaguely sexist tone (at one point, Stark's being asked important questions by a Vanity Fair reporter; the next scene is of her fucking him) and it's weird romantic affection for capitalist excess. The plot began to feel lurching and cumbersome after a while; I found myself checking my watch. And there was the overwhelming sense that despite the vague themes of wealth and power and a man's place in the world, the film ultimately rings hollow. There's not much in "Iron Man" beneath the slick veneer of cool gadgetry and awesome stunts.
To it's credit, though, the movie did manage to capture something about America's ambiguous role as crusader for justice. At one point, Stark's suit is able to pick out civilians from terrorists in a besieged village. His guns shoot all the terrorists, leaving the civilians standing looking stunned in the carnage. Both times I saw this, a smattering of applause broke out in the theater. It was the one moment where something like a soul emerged from the movie. It was a recognition that our deepest wish as a nation is that we could have the ability to pick out friend from foe.
There is also some sharp writing in the script, made all the more vibrant and witty with Downey at the helm. Downey's madcap, interrupting delivery is perfect for the role. His Tony Stark is not a brooding, melancholy soul a la "Batman"; he's in many ways a riotous teenager, with more money than sense and a subconscious that's all id. One of my favorite extraneous moments is when he consults with Pepper on whether to buy a Jackson Pollock.
Tony: Is it a good example of his Spring collection?
Pepper: Actually 'Springs' is the neighborhood
in East Hampton where he worked, not 'Spring' the season-
it's a fair example. I think it's overpriced.Tony: I need it. Buy it and store it.
Comparatively, when Stark decides to become a hero, he takes a different tack than any other super hero I've seen on screen. He gradually grows to understand that his business has been corrupted, that the weapons he made to protect his nation's soldiers have been used against them, and that his beloved business partner has been plotting against him. During these scenes of illumination, the look on his face is not righteous indignation, or stoic resolve, as it would be for any other budding super hero. It's far more elemental than that; again, more id.
Tony Stark is simply pissed off.
Photo courtesy of gizmodo.com
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