Summer movies: Iron Man

Bill Clinton Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr*) begins the movie as your typical neoliberal billionaire playboy-weapons dealer. It's only when, in Afghanistan, he gets blown up by one of his own bombs that he realises the awesome power of Irony. Executing his Second Amendment rights to build a fireball-shooting flight suit, he becomes Irony Man. He fights the evil foreigner the Mandarin Raza (Berkeley grad Faran Tahir) and his crew of henchmen gathered from Hungary, Mongolia and other countries without Second Amendments by using the power of pure Irony. When they shoot at him, their bullets bounce off and hit themselves! One of them tries to catapult a rock at him, but it falls on himself! But the real enemy is bald neoconservative Dick Cheney Obadiah Stane (Jeff Bridges), who builds an even more Ironic suit. They fight, and ironically, because Stane is much more powerful, he loses. He deserves to, because he blows shit up for money. Irony Man only blows shit up for public approval. B PLUS

*Ghostface Killah was busy filming Speed Racer.

SFIFF seen

In the City of Sylvia (José Luis Guerín, 2007): As swoonful a tourist promo for Strasbourg as Before Sunrise was for Vienna: those trams, how kawaii! Our handsome Old Romantic hero stalks a woman across town, as sources of light and sound shift around her (aside: why is subjective lighting inevitably realist, while foley effects are more psychological? Somebody must've thought about this). He glances from face to face -- is that his Sylvie? But something rises to compete with his loneliness: as extras are shot like protagonists, we get to take them in, in a way it's hard to do in real life (because it's rude to stare). Lonely as you are? The city never is. A

The Toe Tactic (Emily Hubley, 2008): Let's hope the New Niceness becomes a movement (humblecore? M. July is lovely, but I never thought of her as humble.) The draw is Hubley's metamorphosing animations, in the spirit of her visualisation of capital-P Platonic soul-mating in Hedwig and the Angry Inch, while the cameo-filled live sequences are just personal and eccentric enough to hold the movie together. Nepotists Yo La Tengo help a lot with a soundtrack that includes, and largely sounds like, "Daphnia". B PLUS

Pitcher of Colored Light (Robert Beavers, 2007): Beavers shoots his mother's house and garden as an extension of herself, his curious camera fading out from one object and into another. Mom's possessions will survive her, as will this film. The best segment of the In a Lonely Place programme of emergent cinema, though I also like Katharin McInnis's Woodward's Gardens, a record of the decarnivalisation of 14th and Mission -- in 3D! B PLUS

Go Go Tales (Abel Ferrera, 2007): For one thing, an Altman flick would have more than one developed character (Willem Dafoe in a generally affable mood as the strip club owner); for another, decent dialogue. But many of the ensemble nail their shining moments, two involving dogs: Asia Argento tongue-kisses hers, while Matthew Modine merely mimes on a toy piano for his. B MINUS

Seen

No Country for Old Men (Coen Brothers, USA, 2007): A first-rate chase movie until the Coens decide to pander to the crowd that mistakes bleakness for depth (insert swing at Cormac McCarthy readers here). And then you get the crazy cat guy giving the "yes, this really is no country for old(-fashioned) men" speech, and even that's unembarrassing compared to the dreaming-about-daddy closer Tommy Lee Jones has to spout. Before then, we get some excellent button-pushing suspense and Javier Bardem doing the Two-Face gimmick justice. B PLUS

Gone Baby Gone (Ben Affleck, USA, 2007): To turn a Straightforward Choice into a Moral Dilemma, the deck has to be stacked: not only is choosing the Wrong Side made the more elegant solution, choosing the Right Side will lead to Loss of Pussy. But credit Ben Affleck for holding together the implausible narrative for that long, and brother Casey for having the humility to play the lead like a sidekick.B

Jumper (Doug Liman, USA, 2008): To make us feel for a guy with superpowers who doesn't even consider saving people in a flood would require more than Hayden Christensen can offer. Maybe not more than Rachel Bilson can offer, but she's granted no great power and no great responsibility. C

Ridiculousest haircut of the week (just edging out Bardem):

Seen

There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, USA, 2007): This is a great movie when it's about oil, a good one when it's about capitalism, an OK one when it's about religion, a mediocre one when it's about family, and a terrible one when it's about Daniel Day-Lewis: PTA had to set it in the badlands, otherwise Day-Lewis would've eaten all the scenery. The first hour is fascinating, beautiful stuff: mines and accidents, wheeling and dealing. But when his brother turns up, Danny and the movie go nuts so slowly that you might not notice the descent until the abrupt jump to 1927. Well, if they must piss away two hours of goodwill with a daft ending, credit them for doing so with conviction (unlike No Country for Old Men, but I'll complain about that next week). A MINUS

Interview (Steve Buscemi, USA, 2007): I guess Sienna Miller gets this year's Knightley/Green "when did she learn to act?" award (yes, it's always a she), even though she was never that bad (well, apparently she was in Factory Girl, but I'm not subjecting myself to that). Simple two-hander, journalist and celeb meeting and emotionally manipulating each other, and did I mention neither of them is insane? B MINUS

Michael Clayton (Tony Gilroy, USA, 2007): Cleverly, this gets the implausible climax over with at the beginning, so that all the rest makes sense, especially the twist post-climax that's no less satisfying if you know it must be coming. Tilda Swinton is ticky and panic-stained; Tom Wilkinson is ticky and nuts, but has the decency to not kill anyone. George Clooney does not need to stoop to such "acting"; he needs merely drop hints he's above it all, even when he's up to his neck.A

An American in Paris (Vincente Minnelli, USA, 1951): Sure, the last ballet is kitchy and interminable, and neither the script nor the leads can untangle the love story. Yet Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron are hugely appealing, at least when they're joyful, as they usually are; their sad faces are, well, sad. Anyway, it's all about Oscar Levant, here unencumbered by any romance of his own, the better for his friends' complications to befuddle him and for his own ambitions (below is the third movement of Gershwin's Concerto in F, a better piece of music than "An American in Paris") to enrapture him. He, Kelly and Georges Guetary singing "By Strauss"is enough to warm the hearts of all hams, which apparently is everyone in Paris. A MINUS

Seen

Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg, UK/Canada, 2007): Viggo! He can put on a Russian accent! He can fight naked! He can out-act Naomi Watts if you give her a lame enough role! A MINUS

Dancer in the Dark (Lars von Trier, "America", 2000): Bjork has a weak spot for pretentious jocks, and if Matthew Barney is not nearly as skilled a provocateur as our Lars, he's certainly better for her health. But credit Ms Guomundsdottir's wailing, more than her warbling, for lifting this well clear of worst-of-the-decade territory. It might've even had some good musical numbers if they had got Michael Rooney to choreograph them, and Spike Jones to direct them. Of course, this would've required smashing in Lars's skull with a cash box. C MINUS

Seen

Charlie Wilson's War (Mike Nichols, USA, 2007): The movie doesn't state its punchline, which is just as well given that it's 9/11. Aaron Sorkin's interest in politics has always had more to do with process than presentation, or (ha) policy. Election scorecard statheads might think he made the second-best choice, but Citizen Kane would suggest otherwise.B

Bug (William Friedkin, USA, 2006): Quite fascinating until the sex scene, and then everything goes south; by the end, it's pretty hilarious. Michael Shannon devours most of the scenery before Ashley Judd polishes off the rest -- you can't fault their workrate, but you must fault their choice of scripts. Harry Connick Jr is somewhat awesome, though. D PLUS

Seen

A Beautiful Mind (Ron Howard, USA, 2001): Talk about an insult to the intelligence. The problem isn't that it's unfaithful to John Nash's life, it's that it's not faithful to anyone's life. Russell Crowe and Jennifer Connelly work their asses off so that it's only the third or fourth least plausible movie romance of all time. C MINUS

Talk to Me (Kasi Lemmons, USA, 2007): Muddled both politically and chronolgically -- the whole thing seems stuck in the Seventies instead of spanning twenty years. That only matters a little, because the performers are Don Cheadle and Chiwetel Ejiofor and the indomitable Taraji P. Henson, who, in total contrast to Hustle & Flow, is louder than her Pam Grier outfits: Tarantino should make her tribute now. B PLUS

Superbad (Greg Mottola, USA, 2007): Pretty funny, but it seems like it was written by teenage boys. What? It was? B PLUS

Hot Rod (Akiva Schaffer, USA, 2007): Yep, another movie where the man-child gets the girl because the man-man is an asshole or a lawyer or something. Funny, I remember my peers when I was fourteen being much dickwadier than my peers now (except you, Mike). C

Away from Her (Sarah Polley, Canada, 2006): Who was the last filmmaker who displayed such a command of narrative first time up -- Charles Laughton? Sure, it helps to be working from an Alice Munro story, but Polley neatly fills out the story of an Alzheimer's suffer (Julie Christie) and her husband (Gordon Pinsent), strengthening Munro's spiralling ironies with some sharp gags (the hockey commentator who can't give up his job, even in the nursing home, lets Polley get a wicked cheap shot in on Pinsent's character), though the movie's ending gnaws at you rather than crushing you. Christie is as exceptional as you've heard: many actresses could get the tics right, and the great ones could stand up to Polley's camera circling their tear-stained faces, but who else could sustain the perfect tone throughout the picture? Wise, frightened and sly, irresistible and unforgettable -- except there's no such thing. A

Office Space (Mike Judge, USA, 1999): Threatens to undermine capitalism for a few minutes. Soon wusses out into fantasies of Jennifer Aniston, but remains funny. B

The Warlords (Peter Chan, China, 2007): Watched it without subtitles and my Mandarin is non-existent, so no rating, but seemed good for what it was -- blood brotherhoods breaking and impalements galore. Jet Li looked strangely like a good actor.

Seen

The Band Wagon (Vincente Minnelli, USA, 1953): The bonus disc features a 1930 Vitaphone short, Jack Buchanan with the Glee Club Quartet, in which JB's expert mistiming gives you some idea why he was Britain's leading musical comedian of his era, though it's not apparent how he functioned as a romantic lead: surely endearing dithering can only go so far (take note, Hugh Grant). Then again, given the breadth of his performance as Jeffrey Cordova, I wouldn't put anything past him. He does a pretty decent Oedipus, has no trouble talking circles around James Mitchell, and edges Fred Astaire in the all-timer "Triplets" number (it's all in the facial expressions, which you can't really make out in the above YouTube clip), and all this with spinal arthritis. In a fairer world, he'd be remembered like we remember the dark-dancing Astaire: well, maybe ninety percent as much. A PLUS

Hot Fuzz (Edgar Wright, UK, 2007): Not as good as Shaun of the Dead, which had a moral or something, but the small town conspiracy premise provides some good cheap laughs: pistol-packing grandmamas and such. The series of unfortunate events does go on a bit, so you might be worn out by the time they get to the "which Clint flick are they pastiching now?" finale. B PLUS

Stealth (Rob Cohen, USA, 2005): While Michael Bay has now been deemed a fit subject for intellectual contemplation, those of us who actually watch and occasionally enjoy mechanised action movies prefer the company of Cohen. Stealth doesn't flukily crash into good movie territory like The Fast and the Furious did, but it has its awesome ludicrous moments, like Josh Lucas flying away from an airborne ring of flames, and Cohen respects every narrative cliche. By the time the Evil Robot Plane develops feelings and learns that collateral damage is wrong, you'll be wishing our real world storyline progressed so inevitably. C PLUS

Seen

Laputa: Castle in the Sky (Miyazaki Hayao, Japan, 1986): One of Miyazaki's best: this is where Ghibli first get their animation style down to a T. It doesn't have the thematic depth of Princess Mononoke: it's definitely a kid's movie, but with a sense of wonder, which if I must choose, I prefer to a sense of weirdness. Unlike Mononoke, better in Japanese. A

Invisible Target (Benny Chan, Hong Kong, 2007): In mid-chase, Nicholas Tse gets hit by a bus. Impressive enough to replay from an alternative angle, not damaging enough to delay him more than a couple of seconds. C PLUS

Broken Blossoms (D.W. Griffith, USA, 1919): The difference Griffith perceives between the Chinaman and the Negro seems to be the comparatively low risk of miscegenation posed by the former, though he sets the action in London to be safe. Still, the movie has as much to say about race and class relations (and domestic violence) today as it did in 1919, which is a little. More than that, it's Lillian Gish's graduation from great presence to great actress, as she incidentally creates the template for every horror movie victim ever. The rest of the time, it's all Richard Bathelmess can do to gaze in wonder. A

Last 15 mins of Flash Point (Wilson Yip, Hong Kong, 2007): Weird to see MMA and worked shoot spots like joint holds and suplexes (there's even a powerbomb counter to an armbar) in the climactic fight scene. In the sequel: Donnie Yen spends five minutes trying to pass half-guard. B MINUS

The Pursuit of Happyness (Gabriele Muccino, USA, 2006): I'll believe the Dem rhetoric about a $9.50 minimum wage when it happens, since liberalism sez it's not slavery if you do it voluntarily. Fortunately for mu opinion of this movie, Will Smith has a more concrete sales pitch than Barack Obama. B PLUS