Review: "Iron Man 2" - 5/17/10

"Eat this, Andretti."

It’s amazing the way one churlish grin from Downey Jr. telegraphs to the rest of us to leave our spidey senses and batarangs at home. But I guess, for an actor who’s as disarmingly impish as he is, it comes with territory where you’ve had to see how bad things will get before you can see how good they are. So with one wise little wink and a nod from our man, and you know that to expect the same serious sensibilities to which most other franchises have attached to themselves would be asking a bit too much. It’s a refreshing fact that most of us appreciate about the first installment of John Favreau’s take on the prodigal entrepreneur turned mechanized wonder.

The second film—picking up largely where we left off in the first “Iron Man” when Tony Stark reveals that he IS Iron Man—while still child-like at heart, is seemingly robbed of the emotional core which gave the previous Marvel upset its deceptively low-key power-punch. There just doesn’t seem to be all that much going on in that weaponized conscience of Mr. Stark’s any longer. So while he may have “privatized world peace” (as is said before his Senate Committee Hearing), he seems to appreciate his new responsibilities of world-saving about as much as the cast of "Jersey Shore" appreciates progressive role models for aspiring young guidos and guidettes.

But while that may be the case, I can’t necessarily fault Downey Jr. for upsetting the whole apologist hero slant for a poise that’s more Devil-May-Care than it is Kiss-My-Ass. And I suppose that’s why we love RDJ in the first place. Because when he comfortably slaps us around with his sarcasm and mussed hair, then brushes us off a minute later, telling us that it was all just a bit of harmless fun, we tend to believe the loveable bastard. The same applies to his buffoonery as well, which essentially deconstructs the mythic ethos of super-heroism for something a little closer to a what-if scenario involving a star-struck frat-boy being drafted into S.H.I.E.L.D. In fact, much of the film revolves around Stark coming to grips with his own apparent stardom, both in ways that make him look (more often than not) like a complete fool. It’s a very interesting take and we might start to learn a little something from its casual inversion of the formula, in which case we should think of it as the reverse “Dark Knight”. Where Bruce Wayne and most other anguished crusaders seem to be asking “Why me?”, Downey’s Stark seems to be saying “Next round’s on me, fellas!” as he uses his powers, not to immobilize the baddies, but rather as a parlor trick for drunken houseguests and Hollywood leeches.

That lack of responsibility, though, is precisely what we loved about the first “Iron Man”. Or at least one of the parts. Roguishness. Grittiness. Moral corruption. Or if not that then at least a healthy dose of debaucherous nonchalance. On a related note, a good handful of easy-going players works to cool the mood like a breakfast of Tylenol after a hard night of partying. With Paltrow reprising her role as the imdomitable and eminently patient Pepper Potts or the sleazily terrific Sam Rockwell who, quite literally, struts his stuff on-stage at the so-called Stark Expo (which is like Epcot Center imagined by Michael Bay and run through Northrup Grumman) we can savor its humor and gentle drama like a one gulp of fresh air as we struggle to keep our heads above an ocean of gloomy heroics. Meanwhile a subtle scowl is all Nick Fury (Jackson) needs as he smolders over a cup of coffee at a Dunkin Donuts, trying to get the fighting industrialist to fly straight or not at all.

However, new faces do seem to come with a cost in terms of the rest. And by rest I mean Rourke, Johannson and Cheadle, who either get bum deals all or just don’t really stand out the way they should. And in an ideal world, I think we were all hoping for a kind of ultimate nemesis to take shape. Or at least to begin thawing out. Yet therein was my largest disappointment. This movie is essentially a stepping stone to bigger and better things, smack-dab in the path of the Avengers release (apparently, Joss Whedon has been enlisted as the director for that project). Both Rockwell (who plays Stark’s opposite number as rival weapons baron Justin Hammer) and Rourke (as the psychotic Russian renegade Ivan Vanko) make good pals for sparring, but the intensity of their hatred doesn’t seem to weigh in nearly so much as you might suppose, especially since Vanko seems to be given only the shallowest of backstories and the most minimal screen time.

But if you start to pout about such things then refer to the opening comments. You’re bound to catch a look from our lead man and his cavalcade of heroes and villains that will tell you to lighten the hell up (except Rourke, of course…that guy is probably as crazy as he looks). Either way, what you get is exactly what you would expect: explosions, dry wit and lots of gizmos that look really really expensive and glow a platinum white. It might not be "Spider Man 2" but it sure as hell doesn’t feel sorry for coming up short. Basically, it’s the attitude which carries this sequel up on high. And it most definitely amounts to a healthy donation of lifeblood into what would otherwise be just another tortuous redemption tale. So, as Tony would suggest, party hardy.

****

Directed by:
Jon Favreau

Written by:
Justin Theroux

Cast:
Robert Downey Jr………….Tony Stark
Don Cheadle…………………Lt. Col. James 'Rhodey' Rhodes/War Machine
Scarlett Johansson………..Natalie Rushman/Natasha Romanoff
Gwyneth Paltrow…………..Pepper Potts
Sam Rockwell……………...Justin Hammer
Mickey Rourke……………..Ivan Vanko
Samuel L. Jackson……….Nick Fury
Clark Gregg………………….Agent Coulson
John Slattery………………..Howard Stark
Jon Favreau…………………Happy Hogan
Paul Bettany………………..Jarvis (voice)