  Robert Downey Jr. as the title character of Iron Man 2. |
What’s true for the iPhone should be true for the Iron Man. Which is? That a superhero movie, like any piece of shiny assembly-line hardware, usually improves with the second rollout. The bugs have been knocked out, the necessary creative tweaks made.
History bears this out: The Dark Knight exceeded the gloomy grasp of Batman Begins, X2: X-Men United expanded the characters and conflicts of X-Men, and Spider-Man 2 distilled its wit and spectacle more confidently than its predecessor. Part of this is a function of the genre. With the transformative origin tale dispatched, filmmakers are able to focus on complication and consequence.
So it’s a disappointment — albeit a modest one — to discover Iron Man 2, which opens a minute after midnight Friday, is a lesser model than its 2008 prototype.
As cool, swank and entertaining as it may be — the cast practically radiates charisma — the sequel is also cluttered, jarringly paced and dramatically unfocused. Put your stratospheric expectations in check.
Not that this level of anticipation was unjustified, per se. The original Iron Man was one of the most well-constructed comic-book adaptations to date; sleek, exhilarating and resonant, with a one-for-the-ages performance by Robert Downey Jr. Rarely has an actor enjoyed such alchemy with a character — never mind one created in a 1960s comic book. But reformed weapons inventor Tony Stark proved tailor-made to both Downey’s smart-ass glibness and his notorious, scandalized past.
And again, its leading man remains the most compelling component of this franchise — the military-industrialist as newly-baptized (and fully armoured) peacekeeper.
Thematically, IM2 circles the same existential territory as The Dark Knight and Spider-Man 2, in which the protagonists, triumphant in the final moments of the first chapter, learn what all heroes eventually do: No good deed goes unpunished. But what distinguishes Stark is that his demons are largely external. Unlike his costumed peers, tormented by their responsibilities, he basks in his powers. “I’ve successfully privatized world peace!” he crows to a cheering crowd.
Naturally, not everyone is a fan. Enter Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke), a metal-mouthed Russian physicist who becomes Whiplash, a bionic, laser-ribbon-wielding agent of annihilation, out to avenge his father for perceived Stark family wrongdoings.
Also scheming: Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell), a business rival in league with a wormy U.S. senator (Garry Shandling) who wants the Iron Man technology surrendered to the government — a development that pits Stark against his friend and military go-between Col. James “Rhodey” Rhodes (Don Cheadle, replacing Terrence Howard).
If all of this wasn’t crowded enough — the plot is so protracted, the first slam-bang set-piece doesn’t occur until 20 minutes in or so — there’s also the inclusion of Marvel mainstays Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) and Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson). Both are fine in their little-to-do roles — he’s gruff machismo, she’s catsuit-clad swagger — but they feel needlessly shoehorned in. Moreover, it distracts from what genuinely works here: Downey’s snappiness, his chemistry with Gwyneth Paltrow, the rocket-fueled effects work, Rourke and Rockwell’s amusingly mismatched megalomaniacs, and director Jon Favreau’s defiant sense of irreverence.
Indeed for all the villains on display, the only plot for world domination I could detect is Marvel’s agenda to prep audiences for spin-offs and sequels galore.
(This film is rated PG)
kevin.williamson@sunmedia.ca
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