MOVIE REVIEW :
What we wear becomes social shorthand, a way to discern and judge and often misjudge the people we meet. An oil-stained shirt and pair of overalls tells us something. An Armani suit says something else. An emblazoned T-shirt might trigger a chuckle or a school suspension. We cover ourselves in cotton and cashmere and designer labels, and there’s a danger that we can lose ourselves underneath it all.
For years, Tony Stark has been defined by his suit—not a cotton or wool or silk number, but a blend made from exotic metals and embedded computers and super-powerful mini-engines. Sure, he may still be a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist underneath it all. And yet, strip the iron from Iron Man and you have, merely, a man.
Stark is feeling all too mortal these days. He can’t sleep. He’s subject to debilitating panic attacks. His Avengers-sponsored sojourn to New York left the man a shell of his former self—funny, given that the man’s self-made shell has embodied him for so long.
But evil cares little about Tony’s lingering psychoses. Whenever Iron Man strikes down one threat, another rises to take its place, and this time it’s embodied in the Mandarin. Bedazzled in rings and cloaked in mystery, this bin Laden-style leader hijacks America’s airwaves and promises to shower death and terror on the nation’s people.
And when one of his attacks injures Tony’s longtime bodyguard, Tony’s had enough. A furious Stark calls out the Mandarin in the media, inviting the terrorist to stop by for a taste of terminal justice. The Mandarin does—by proxy. Helicopters blow apart Stark’s Malibu mansion, burying the billionaire’s high-tech toys in rubble or ocean. And while Iron Man still lives, his metallic shell has been rocked to its core, energy sapped, defenses breeched, computerized brain useless.
Tony Stark is a superhero emperor without clothes, a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist without a supersuit. He lives, yes. But without his metallic cocoon, is he still a hero? Can he still save the world?
VIOLENT CONTENT :
After Pepper kills a bad guy (for what would seem like the 14th time), she turns, horrified, to Tony. “That was really violent!” she says.
And she’s right. In fact, the whole movie is really violent. And while we’ve certainly come to expect a level of chaos and carnage in these sorts of superflicks (I’ve yet to hear of a superhero film based on the exploits of the Avenging Pacifist), this one comes with more of an edge than you might expect.
The first act of terrorism we witness takes place in Hollywood’s Chinese Theatre, filled with innocent tourists who are (mostly) utterly vaporized. (We see Tony’s bodyguard lying on the ground, his face severely gouged.) The scene might make some moviegoers think of the Boston Marathon bombings, and indeed, the Mandarin makes it a point of pride to hit America in the fashion of a terrorist—striking out at civilian targets and gloating over the results. He talks about how his men attacked a Middle Eastern church filled with the spouses and children of American military personnel, comparing it to the 1864 Sand Creek, Colo., massacre (when American troops killed Native American women and children while the braves were away).
But even discounting moments of uncomfortable real-world parallels, some of the scenes here are still downright disturbing. The evildoers don’t make use of mere suicide bombers, but people who actually explode—heating up from the inside out until they pop like kiln-heated sausages. There is very little gore, but the people in the throes of this transformation are obviously in horrible pain, and we see the heat radiate from their skin, eyeballs and mouths. We see veins and bones outlined by the literal light from within.
You can probably guess from all this that the body count is pretty high, what with the innocent civilians destroyed by the Mandarin’s men and the scads of evildoers laid low by Tony, Rhodes and their phalanx of armor-plated suits. People are bashed and smashed and crashed. They get hit with fists and feet and bullets and jet-like weapons and flying metallic gloves and grand pianos. They’re burned or superheated or submerged in water or thrown into walls or plunged into massive fires or flung from aircraft.
We see someone’s mangled body hanging lifelessly from telephone wires. Another person has an arm sliced off. An attacker is choked with a pair of handcuffs before her neck burns through the metal. It’s suggested that someone takes a bullet to the head live on television. We see images of war and violence on TV. A man is strung up above an immolating pool of oil.
Tony spends the majority of the movie wearing blood on his face. He painfully injects sensors into his arms. He crashes in his suit. His suit crashes into him. Pepper is manhandled, nearly strangled and, in a way, tortured. And I should note that some of the bad guys are gals, which triggers some pretty serious, pretty up-close-and-personal—violent—battles between the sexes. We hear how someone contemplated suicide.
CRUDE OR PROFANE LANGUAGE :
One s-word. Four or five uses each of “a‑‑,” “d‑‑n” and “h‑‑‑.” (A couple of those come from the kid in Tennessee.) We also hear “p‑‑‑ed” twice and that same number of “bloody.” There’s one use of “b‑‑ch,” one of “p‑‑‑y” and one of “d–k.” There are more than a dozen misuses of God’s name (once paired with “d‑‑n”).
DRUG AND ALCOHOL CONTENT :
A villain admits to having substance abuse problems before his evil employees found him. Tony asks if they helped him get off the stuff. No, the villain says. “They offered me more.” We see him drink beer. Others down wine and champagne. Tony lounges in a huge wine cellar.