Iron Man…
…is a fun, fun, fun movie. I was surprised and impressed.
And to think, it started at such a disadvantage. For one thing, I tend to avoid summer blockbusters, mainly because I can think of more enjoyable things to do than share a movie with a hundred yammering, texting hooligans. For another, I don’t usually go for movies based on comic-book characters, especially after sitting through Batman Begins and Spider-Man 3. And anyway, I was never interested in Iron Man. He’s not a character I know, and he always seemed so inaccessible beneath that great metal mask and those two narrow slits that served for vision. Of course, this was before I discovered the infamous Tony Stark would be played by the inimitable Robert Downey, Jr.
That got me in the door. Yes, under all these yakkety and cynical trappings I am still a creature of desire, and whatever his personal issues were (or are), the man is a great actor. (Even though I haven’t been able to watch the movie again, his performance in Natural Born Killers just blew me away.) The movie was not without its flaws, but it was worth sitting through all of them just to watch Downey inhabit the character of Tony Stark, and to struggle with his transformation from freewheeling billionaire playboy to freewheeling billionaire superhero.
I’m trivializing. In almost any other actor’s hands, the character arc (and the series of events that precipitated it) would have been impossible to take seriously. But with Robert Downey, Jr.’s craft, it was flawed enough to be believable and touching without descending into mawkishness.
My one gripe has nothing to do with him or his character and everything to do with his charming young secretary, Pepper Potts. (Now there is a name that could emerge only from the comic book universe.) She is ably and gamely played by Gwyneth Paltrow in the face of some really terrible and inconsistent writing. From the very beginning, it is clear that Potts is capable, intelligent, glib, and utterly devoted to her boss. Her levelheadedness and ingenuity are unmatched, especially in an encounter with Tony Stark’s archnemesis. But every now and again, her coolness and cleverness are written away so that somebody else in the frame gets to look brave or smart. An otherwise compelling character is diluted so the writers don’t have to work as hard to make other characters look good, and of course it is the most interesting female character who suffers.
And I suffered for her. My frustration culminated in a scene where, flanked by federal agents, Potts discovers her entry card has stopped working. The scene asked me to suspend my disbelief in too many ways — not for the movie itself, but for Potts’ character. You see, by that point in the movie Potts and everybody on either side of the fourth wall has figured out why her card isn’t working, but Hollywood forces poor Paltrow to suddenly go bovine and mutter the obvious — “My card — it isn’t working.” — with no explanation or reflection about why that might be (hmm, archnemesis much?). This pathetic display was immediately followed by an inquiry involving the word “thingy,” requiring me to believe that a woman responsible for managing the great and intimate details of a weapon-manufacturing magnate’s life could suddenly revert to a squeaky, gleeful, valley-girl inspection of a bit of explosive putty.
But I don’t want to finish on that note. This was by any measure a great comic book movie, and I have high hopes for subsequent outings with both Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.
