Review: 'Iron Man 3' a sweetly calibrated blockbuster
Tony Stark may have started out as a Batman knockoff -- like Bruce Wayne he's a playboy entrepreneur, a mega-rich industrialist who inherited the good life before channeling his anger into homeland security -- but there's no doubt that in the movies Robert Downey Jr. has put clear blue water between Tony and Christian Bale's grim, angst-y Batman.
Flashy and frivolous, an
exhibitionist who likes the glare of public attention, he's a light
knight with a thick skin.
Traditionally,
protagonists are punished for their hubris, and the first "Iron Man"
movie went through those motions. But Downey enjoys Stark's arrogance
too much to eat humble pie. He's always resisted the idea of playing the
repentant. Stark may have developed a conscience after his run-in with
the Taliban in the first movie, and even turned monogamous for Pepper
(Gwyneth Paltrow), but he's still a flip, cynical hedonist at heart.
So what are we to make of
the anxiety attacks that cripple Mr. Stark in Shane Black's "Iron Man
3"? Apparently he's freaked out after his mind-blowing experiences with
"The Avengers" last summer (though no one else seems concerned that
Norse gods are at large in the cosmos, and when the going gets tough you
do wonder why he doesn't pick up the phone and ask his new buddies for
help -- not the only plot hole by any means).
Black, who wrote "Lethal
Weapon" way back when and more recently helped restore Downey's career
with "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang," may have hoped that a sliver of self-doubt
would crack open Iron Man's emotional armor and restore the human face
behind the mask, but Downey shows no interest in introspection.
Black systematically
strips Tony of almost everything he has -- gadgets, gizmos, his
strongest suit -- but the actor merely shrugs it off. There's a lot of
faulty wiring this time round, technology that seems as flawed as its
inventor, but if his problems are largely of his own making Tony remains
supremely unfazed, always primed with a quip and a smirk. Downey may as
well be playing "Irony Man."
Stark's arrogance and
narcissism come back to haunt him in the form of spurned entrepreneur
Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce) and a larger-than-life terror-monger by the
name of "The Mandarin" (Ben Kingsley).
A cross between Osama bin
Laden and Fu Manchu -- but with the rumbling, tumbling vocal stylings
of a Southern Baptist evangelist, The Mandarin brings out the best in
Kingsley, who hasn't had a role as juicy as this one for donkey's years.
Mandarin is a worthy nemesis, an extravagant showman like Tony who can
hack into broadcast feeds at will, and claims credit for a string of
bombings across the U.S. When Hap (Jon Favreau) is caught in one blast,
Tony takes it as a personal affront -- and impetuously calls fire down
on his own head.
There's an off-the-cuff
quality to the storytelling here -- the movie rewrites its own laws of
physics whenever it's convenient to do so -- which by rights should be a
bigger problem than it is. But Black and/or co-writer Drew Pearce know
how to write snappy dialogue. Even if they don't mean a thing, their
scenes have plenty of zing. They also have an ace up their sleeve, a
trump card that puts a giddy spin on the third act at just that point
where both the previous movies began to run out of stream.
To say more would be to
spoil the fun. "Iron Man 3" has plenty to offer on that score. It's a
confidently tongue-in-cheek piece of blockbuster engineering, sweetly
calibrated to Downey's cavalier appeal and to Kingsley's oddball
interjections, a battle royale of rampant egos in which acting speaks
louder than words.
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