Iron Man 2
Iron Man 2 is a movie that takes the numeral after its name a little too literally. This sorry excuse for a sequel falls into almost every single trap out there for next-in-line superhero movies without even taking the slightest chance or breaking any new ground.
For starters, the characters in the film are borderline absurd. Gone are the subtle vestiges of vulnerability and internal growth witnessed in the original film’s protagonist, Tony Stark, and in their place are a host of antics and impulsive behavior from actor Robert Downey, Jr. that simply read like a page out of the millionaire playboy’s playbook. And hey, while we’re at it, let’s add a second quirky, uber-wealthy weapons designer to the mix because if there’s one thing audience’s love, it’s when the villain is almost indistinguishable from the main character. In fact, the entire film seemed like a bizarrely choreographed ritual with Downey, Jr. channeling Bill Murray without the whimsy and Sam Rockwell attempting to turn back the clock 10 years to tap into the actually cool villain persona he displayed in Charlie’s Angels. Neither one succeeds.
Of course, the director wants us to focus on the ‘real’ villain of the flick, a ridiculous Russian he-man super genius named Ivan Vanko who has a hard-on for revenge and an accent so stupid one of my ears actually melted. Perhaps the hope was the Mickey Rourke’s supremely ugly depiction of this completely forgettable clown would distract us from the fact that ALIENS CAME IN THE NIGHT AND REPLACED TERENCE HOWARD WITH DON CHEADLE! But honestly, who cares, because as the only visible minority in the film not named Samuel L. Jackson, Cheadle’s Colonel Rhodes character honestly could have been played by anyone from Ice Cube to that fat guy from Transformers and no one would have noticed. Action movies are probably the palest of the Caucasian genres, and Iron Man 2’s cast is a veritable blizzard.
What else went wrong with this film? How about Scarlett Johansson being completely wasted as the token female in a skintight suit who gets to be marginally sexy while blowing stuff up during her 5 minutes of screen time. Or maybe that 45 minute sequence at the end of the movie where the red Iron Man and the grey Iron Man and the Russian Iron Man all flew around and around in the air shooting at each other until I started foaming at the mouth. How many Iron Mans do there really need to be? And why no Iron Woman? Or Sony AIBO IRON DOG!?!?
Have I just accidentally revealed the plot of the next sequel?
Actually, no. Given that the theme of Iron Man 2 seemed to be two or three of everything, then I can only imagine that in Iron Man 3 everyone on the planet will be given their own Iron Man suit and invited to some kind of infinite Royal Rumble where the last steel-coated cutout standing will have to then fight Johnny Five in a steel cage. Robot hardcore wrestling – it has to be more entertaining than this limp garbage.
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