Iron Man (3 1/2 stars)
Directed by Jon Favreau. Written by Mark Fergus, Hawk Ostby, Art Marcum, and Matt Holloway, based on the comic book. With Robert Downey, Jr., Terrence Howard, Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeff Bridges. (PG-13)
There can't be any question that the superhero movie has arrived when Iron Man attracts a cast that includes one Oscar winner and a slew of frequent nominees. Never quite on par with Superman, Batman, or Spiderman, Iron Man—or "Shellhead," as he was affectionately known in comic circles—was always something of a second-tier hero, even if he was never truly out of fashion. Maybe it was his decidedly nuts-and-bolts nature that kept him from having much mystique; it was the suit that was the star, and over the years more than one man has taken on the mantle.
And yet the comic was also one of the darkest out there. The first Iron Man, and the one we see in the new film, was Tony Stark. Based in part on Howard Hughes, the character was a wealthy industrialist, a womanizer and egoist. He fought an ongoing battle with alcoholism, lived on the streets, and saw his Iron Man suit used to commit murder. That kind of drama is what kept the comic grounded despite whatever high-flying heroics were on display, and it does the same thing here. The suit may still be the star, but the man makes the movie.
Robert Downey, Jr. is perfectly cast as Stark, right down to the moustache. In Afghanistan to demonstrate one of his company's new weapons, his convoy is attacked, in a biting bit of irony, with his own missiles. When he comes to, he's got a magnet in his chest to keep some bits of shrapnel from reaching his heart. He's also the prisoner of a small band of terrorists who plan to hold him captive until he builds them a knock-off of his new weapon. Instead, he uses his technological know-how to build a crude exoskeleton that he uses to effect a desperate escape.
Once he works his way back to the States, Stark is ready to shelve the company's weapons programs, much to the angry disbelief of his right-hand man Obadiah Stane (Jeff Bridges), who moves to freeze Tony out of the company. With time on his hands during his recovery, Stark begins working on a new version of his suit in his home workshop. In these early scenes, director Favreau does a nice job of giving nods to the original comic while keeping it interesting for those who don't know Iron Man from Iron Chef. (A later scene features a more explicit reference to the comic history that seems to hint at a sequel.) But perhaps the best thing is that the film shows us a hero in the making; there's no real supervillain to speak of, and that lets the exhilarating scenes in which Stark tests out his new suit retain a kind of innocent joy that would have been lost in a typically hyperactive battle scene.
Downey is great throughout—and who better to play a hard-drinking ladies' man who lives in the spotlight? Knowing the actor's own history only adds to the portrayal, and while it isn't necessary to appreciate the work he does, it somehow feels good to watch him so thoroughly transcend his past. As the most human of heroes, he never becomes a cartoon.
Snow Angels (4 stars)
Directed by David Gordon Green. Written by David Gordon Green, based on a novel by Stewart O'Nan. With Sam Rockwell, Kate Beckinsale, Michael Angarano, Griffin Dunne, Amy Sedaris and Olivia Thirlby. (R)
David Gordon Green, the young director who, eight years ago, made such a strong debut with George Washington, has quietly continued to make his films on his own terms, turning out a new story every year or two. Snow Angels, his latest, is an emotionally crushing film about frustration, loss, and forgiveness. It's also one of his best. Set in a nameless town in rural Pennsylvania, the story is a study in relationships and all they entail—heartache and loneliness, deception and honesty, and the spark of ridiculous hope that makes it all worthwhile.
High school student Arthur is the center that connects the stories. His parents are splitting up, and the dispassionate way he takes the news suggests that the break has been a long time coming. He's also got an after-school job at the local Chinese restaurant, where he works alongside his one-time babysitter Annie (Kate Beckinsale), who is having an affair with the husband of her friend and co-worker Barb (Amy Sedaris). At the same time, Annie is dealing with the unwanted attentions of her estranged and unbalanced husband Glenn (Sam Rockwell), an unemployed ne'er-do-well who, after a failed suicide attempt, is trying to insinuate himself back into the lives of Kate and their daughter Tara.
The one bit of lightness in Arthur's life appears in the form of Lila (Juno's Olivia Thirlby), a new student with whom he embarks on a romance. A budding photographer, she seems able to see the beauty in the town that its long-time residents overlook, and her fresh take on the surroundings seems to shake Arthur from his torpor. Green nails the details of the struggling town, from the importance of the high school football night to the small sacrifices of the grocery budget.
Watching the varied outcomes of the couplings involved, we're reminded of just how complex it can be when people try to reach each other, and how a relationship with one person can bleed over into another. Green is excellent at showing how life in a small town both exacerbates that interconnectedness and makes it too much trouble to worry much about; when Barb discovers her husband's affair she's livid, but when Annie's daughter goes missing soon after, she rushes to be by Annie's side. In such a town, where everybody knows everybody's business and everyone is in the same sinking boat, holding a grudge takes more energy than it's worth. Sedaris, known more for her work in comedy, is right at home in her role; fans of her brother David's work may recognize the setting as similar to the ones that feature in his stories of the Sedaris family upbringing.
Glenn, whose behavior has become increasingly erratic, is the obvious suspect in Tara's disappearance, but when the truth is revealed its prosaic nature makes it all the more stark and terrible. As the distraught mother, Beckinsale does some of her better work, but Rockwell is truly great as Glenn. Reminiscent of De Niro in The Deer Hunter but more unhinged, the always-interesting actor moves from hope to hurt, from hurt to anger, and finally to a deadly resolve born of his delusional religious convictions about forgiveness and repentance.
In adapting the original story by Stewart O'Nan, Green has set his film more or less in the present—the source work was set in the 1970s—but there's little apart from the occasional cell phone that ties the story to any particular time. Instead it feels like a story that a thousand small towns have seen a thousand times before, and will likely see again.
Baby Mama (3 stars)
Written and directed by Michael McCullers. With Amy Poehler, Tina Fey, Greg Kinnear, Dax Shepard and Steve Martin. (PG-13)
When the lights go up at the end of Baby Mama, it's hard not to think that Michael McCullers, the name attached to the "written and directed by" credit, might be a pseudonym for star Tina Fey. It's not—McCullers was also the writer behind several installments of the Austin Powers series—yet the film is so perfectly molded to the sensibility of its star that it feels like something she's been waiting to make for years.
Fey, who had a good run as the head writer on Saturday Night Live before launching her comedy 30 Rock, has spent much of her career exploring the lives of smart and successful women who nevertheless seem destined to fail at love. She picks up the thread again here as Kate Holbrook, an executive for organic supermarket chain Round Earth who, after a long climb up the corporate ladder, unexpectedly finds herself longing for a baby of her own. With no time for a relationship (or skills—her enthusiastic desire to get pregnant sends her dates running), she turns first to artificial insemination (no luck there, on account of her "T-shaped uterus") and then to adoption (no again) before finally settling on a surrogate service run by the aging but maddeningly fertile Chaffee Bicknell (Sigourney Weaver).
As Angie Ostrowiski, Fey's old SNL co-star Amy Poehler does another version of the trashy, low-rent characters she often plays on the show. Living with her common-law husband Carl in the aptly named town of Dreery, Angie stands to net a $10,000 payday and, possibly, a way out of a life where grocery shopping is done at the gas station. Still, she falls woefully short of Kate's standards—a diet of Pringles, Red Bull and cigarettes isn't what she had in mind for her embryo—and when Carl and Angie have a blowup, Kate takes her in, the better to keep watch over her during the pregnancy.
Despite a few twists, the film mostly plays out as another take on The Odd Couple. Poehler and Fey have an easy chemistry from their years of working together, and though the pantsuit-meets-sweatsuit culture clash is a bit overdrawn, some sharp writing and good performances help elevate the film. Most important, and likely the result of Fey's involvement, is the stellar supporting cast, which fleshes out the banal story and provides enough comedic interest of its own to keep things from being a one-note song. Dax Shepard is well cast as the lunkheaded Carl, and Romany Malco is endearing as Kate's doorman Oscar—the one man in her life until she meets juice bar owner Rob (Greg Kinnear, agreeable in a familiar role). Best, though, is the unexpected Steve Martin as the breezy New Age idiot behind Round Earth. His scenes are some of the film's freshest, showing a hilarity that results from taking a stock character to ridiculous extremes; it takes a certain bravery to play a role that way, and though Poehler comes close, it seems that Martin is the only one who really takes the chance.
