Downey stars as dashing billionaire playboy Tony Stark—part Howard
Hughes, part Errol Flynn—who leads a life unencumbered by reflection
until he's captured and held hostage in Afghanistan by terrorists using his
company's weapons. Downey escapes by building a crude version of his Iron Man
suit. Upon returning home, Downey perfects the robotic flying suit, but when he
announces that his company is getting out of the weapons business he makes
himself an inviting target to rivals, including enigmatic father figure Jeff
Bridges, who looks disconcertingly like Winter Kills co-star Sterling Hayden with his shaved head and
mad-prophet beard.
Iron Man takes its sweet time
getting Downey into the Iron Man suit, and it doles out big action setpieces
sparingly once man has fused triumphantly with machine. Downey is so much fun
as a breezy cad that it's a shame he spends so much time brooding and
luxuriating in obsession. Like Ang Lee's Hulk, Iron Man is a comic-book blockbuster characterized as much by
heavyweight acting and sober intellectual concerns about the use and misuse of
power and technology as the usual comic-book foolishness. But Iron
Man finds a much more palatable,
audience-friendly balance between delirious spectacle and tortured introspection
thanks largely to Downey, a great actor who's also a great entertainer. His
relationship with a fire-extinguishing robot is funnier and more poignant than
the central relationship between humans in most movies, and there's nothing
arbitrary about love interest/long-suffering assistant Gwyneth Paltrow. Having
gotten all that exposition out of the way in a brisk and entertaining fashion,
Favreau paves the way for more pure fun and excitement in future entries. Iron
Man is the rare comic-book movie that makes
the prospect of a sequel seem like a promise instead of a threat.
