The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

Iron Man 2:

Iron Man 2? Iron Man Poo, more like! Ha! Preschool-hilartity-that-I-really-should-have-grown-out-of-by-now aside, it’s not that bad, but it’s far from a well-crafted, balls-to-the-floor action romp. Tony Stark/Iron Man has the world at his feet; untold riches, an adoring international public, and the man responsible for world peace. But he’s dying, slowly being poisoned by the radioactive thingy in his chest that he needs to stay alive (mad irony dude!), and the government wants his suits in the interest of national security (because if you can trust anyone with high-powered weaponry, it’s the American government, right?). Concurrently, Russian physicist Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke) is plotting revenge against Stark with the use of some big electrified whips (kinky), and after a false start at the Monaco GP, gets a little help from Stark industry rival Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell).

Let’s start with the good points. Downey Jr is always a joy to watch (although perhaps a tad too quirky), Rockwell and Don Cheadle are particularly good, and Paltrow and Rourke do well with the material they have. There are some sassy one-liners, some scenes of snappy dialogue (a la The West Wing in many places) and an entertaining action set piece at the Monaco GP.

But these moments are like ice cubes of joy bobbing in a wide sea of crap. As with the first film, the pacing is off, meandering for a full 45 minutes in the middle, and the “climatic battle” is far from that. The action scenes will likely be a fan boy’s paradise, but for me they were dull; seeing two CGI models slugging it out with each other without actually having gaming controls to move them is as unsatisfying and hollow as the recent Star Wars trilogy. And more could have been done with Rourke’s character, and the relationship between Ivan and Stark cries out to be more developed. It’s a decent enough film to polish off a jumbo size box of popcorn to, but will make you feel bloated and strangely unsatisfied afterwards

44 Inch Chest:

In 2000 the film Sexy Beast gave us a different British gangster amidst a wave of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels imitators. It showed us men whose personality was intimidation enough with little need for actual violence. The same writers and a good portion of the cast of Sexy Beast have come back for 44 Inch Chest.

The film focuses on Colin (Ray Winstone), a man who’s been destroyed by the news that his wife’s been cheating on him and is now leaving him. Colin calls up a few of his aging hard-arse buddies and together they kidnap his wife’s new lover. Our story concerns the decision of what to do with this young upstart.

44 Inch Chest is intended as an ode to the power of love: mature, dependent, life-defining love. The film looks at how the most brutal of men can be undone by these feelings. The main problem is - it doesn’t look at it with a particularly broad perspective.

The long and short of it: this is a stage play, filmed. This is almost never a good idea and this film is a brilliant example of exactly why it doesn’t work. The drama spends almost the entire time in one room, creating a claustrophobic feeling that doesn’t boost the tension but instead adds staleness. The language is overly theatrical as well and, though it’s delivered with consummate skill by the phenomenal cast, it merely detracts further from the realism.

In the end, we don’t get enough of Colin’s character and back story as a violent man to be impressed when love turns him around.