Iron Man 2
Scarlett Johansson in a cat suit. Honestly, I think that’s all I can remember. Well, there is the plot involving Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke), the son of a scientist who worked with Tony Stark’s (Robert Downey, Jr.) father, Howard (John Slattery of AMC’s Mad Men). It’s as convoluted a plot as you can imagine, or not. Ivan harbors resentment toward Tony, the heir of Stark Industries, for his father’s deportation back to Russia—a consequence of unethical profiteering with defense contracts. If ever there were misguided anger…
In the original film, Stark grew a conscience only by virtue of becoming a victim of the weapons of mass destruction that he dispensed as a narcissistic, private arms dealer. Tony’s electromechanical alter-ego, Iron Man, took on his maniacal (electro-maniacal?) business partner Obadaiah Stane (Jeff Bridges). In the sequel, he takes on several enemies that only incidentally conspire against him.
Led by Senator Stern (Garry Shandling, horribly disfigured by plastic surgery), the Senate Armed Services Committee inquires into the potential for Stark’s technologies to fall into the wrong hands. Coincidentally, Vanko surfaces at the Monaco Grand Prix, donning a replica of the arc reactor suit, with electrically-charged whips—hence the less-than-clever nom de guerre, Whiplash. How he knew Stark would be at that very race is beyond me. You would think a technological wizard like Stark could at least have bought his tickets through a third party under an alias. Never mind the fact that everyone else watching the race was surprised to see him there.
Aside from his mediocre accent, Mickey Rourke can in principle play a formidable villain, but he isn’t given much to do here except get angry and dribble spit while he mumbles some mangled form of Russian. Enter the relief: Scarlett Johansson as a walking aphrodisiac, er, Natalie Rushman—from Stark’s legal department, or so she says. You get the sense that her ample figure was confined by the costume designer to keep her from distracting the viewer from every other inconsequential thing happening on screen at any given moment. That, if anything, is her super power—Scarlett’s not Natasha’s.
The film suffers from mental telepathy. It telegraphs all of the key story developments to the viewer well in advance of their unfolding. From the moment he negotiates a deal to develop a competing suit for rival tycoon Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell playing Sam Rockwell), we know Ivan has other plans. The instant Natalie Rushman appears (moving, as Lemmon said of Monroe in Some Like it Hot,“like Jell-O on springs”), we know she is not, as she claims, from Stark’s legal department. Can you think of any female who isn’t a super-hero who dyes her hair that particular shade of burgundy?
It’s entertaining watching Mr. Downey’s manic tendencies itching to draw outside the lines of the script, written by the occasionally-witty Justin Theroux. One wonders if we could just watch Mr. Downey, alone, on stage for an hour. Where would he take us? It might be like watching Robin Williams go off the rails. And therein lies the problem. The film wants to confine him in a conventional, blockbuster-shaped container. In the underrated Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang, Mr. Downey finds himself in his element, with a fractured narrative that allows him to explore every possible nook and cranny of his over-caffeinated imagination.
The character of Stark is less comic than cartoon. With his Disney-like corporate campus (complete with a centrally-located globe reminiscent of EPCOT Center’s geodesic sphere), his limitless holographic computer interfaces, and his annual Stark Expo, undoubtedly mirroring Macworld Expo, he is Steve Jobs to Justin Hammer’s Larry Ellison. Perhaps you thought I’d compare him to Bill Gates, but Hammer’s far too dense. Mr. Ellison boasted in 1997 that, were it up to him, Apple would be liquidated.
Steve Jobs is himself a carefully-crafted image—circular eyeglasses accenting a receding chin and balding cranium, effecting an analogue of Gandhi. His ubiquitous brand has created mobile communications devices that are light years ahead of anything Gene Roddenberry ever imagined. When your fantasy gadgets are delivered into the real world by a messianic CEO, what’s the fun of locking yourself in a theater for ten bucks to watch an imaginary one?
Iron Man 2 • Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1 • Running Time: 124 minutes • MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sequences of intense sci-fi action and violence, and some language. • Distributed by Paramount Pictures