Iron Man 2
dir: Jon Favreau
Is there an actor alive who digs himself more than Robert Downey Jr.? (Ok, possibly Richard Gere, but thatâ€™s in more of a creepy, reptilian vein.) At a time when more and more actors are going Methody opaque, Downeyâ€™s lightspeed thought processes are gloriously external, finding hidden ironies in the material while simultaneously delivering his own commentary track. Too much of a good thing can sometimes be way too much of a good thingâ€”the actorâ€™s best performances tend to come when heâ€™s bouncing off of a tight-reined director, ala David Fincher in Zodiacâ€”but when heâ€™s cooking, itâ€™s hard to look away.
If you like watching Downey half as much as he evidently likes himself, Iron Man 2 might make for a reasonably diverting couple of hours. That doesnâ€™t mean itâ€™s not a major mess, though. Flabby, disjointed, and eschewing conflict for extended scenes of improv clowning, itâ€™s the Superheroic equivalent of a Rat Pack film.
Picking up more or less directly where the first installment left off, the story finds billonaire playboy Tony Stark dealing with his decision to go public with his secret identity, while fending off threats both internal (radiation from the device that powers him up) and external, in the form of Sam Rockwellâ€™s competing arms dealer and Mickey Rourkeâ€™s Russian inventor with a grudge. Stuff goes boom, but in nowhere near the quantities youâ€™d expect. This may be the only superhero movie in existence where more time is spent lounging around the heroâ€™s swinginâ€™ pad instead of vrooming through the sky.