Movie Review: Iron Man

Solid, kick-ass, formula action flick. Much better than most of the crap I've suffered through lately.

Predictable? Yes. Implausible? Naturally. But still a lot of fun. The dialogue is refreshingly well-written, the banter is chuckle-worthy, and Downey Jr. plays an arrogant asshole beautifully. Gwynneth Paltrow, with red hair, is worth watching (alone, with an extra-large bottle of hand lotion) even if you despise the comic super-hero genre.

Oddly enough, the ending is the exact opposite of what you'd expect...instead of naturally setting up a sequel, it creates an obstacle that will be awkward to overcome if the storyline continues (not that awkwardness has ever stopped the Hollywood money machine.)

Missing, thankfully, is the smarmy sweetness of Spiderman. Tony Stark doesn't struggle with the moral dilemmas of killing bad people, doesn't deliver pizzas on a bicycle, and doesn't fail miserably with women. And instead of waging battle against cheesy villains, he topples terrorists and ruthless corporate execs.

The best part of the night, other than the guffawing hyena who sat three rows in front of us and laughed uproariously at every mediocre sight gag, was that JC and I didn't have an empty seat between us. Well...for about ten minutes, anyway. Then his leg touched mine, and I knew it was time to move.