Today's Mini-Reviews: downfall of the rich and powerful

Iron Man 3: **/*****, or 5/10

Most disappointing of the Marvel Studios movies so far. Shane Black (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang) took over the director's chair from Jon Favreau who did the first two installments. Maybe it's Black's tendency to go over the top a bit too far, maybe the writers and producers just got terribly lazy in the creative process after the sucess of the predecessors, but Iron Man 3 proves a dud. Tony Stark finally has found a decent equilibrium between his eccentric playboy life and his public role as the armored superhero Iron Man, but soon his world is turned upside down after he deliberately picks a fight with the vicious terrorist leader Mandarin (“played by Sir Ben Kingsley”) who wounded his former bodyguard Happy (still performed by Favreau himself at least). The Mandarin comes down hard on Tony, destroying his mansion and seemingly obliterating his various armors. With only his wit, his engineering skills, his insufferable character flaws – he was never more irritating than he is here – and the aid of some kid in a shack, he soon turns the tables and confronts his new nemesis and his silly army of exploding people, only to find out the situation is not what it appeared to be, as the Mandarin is just a fraud (way to ruin a classic bad guy, Marvel!). Another adversary, A.I.M. leader Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce) is behind it all, out to revenge himself on Stark, literally for making him cry ten years earlier (now that's what I call a solid motivation for aiming to conquer the world!). During the film's climactic showdown, Tony can fortunately count on his girlfriend Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) to save his ass, plus he had another 40 armors inexplicably hidden up his sleeve. Iron Man 3 pretentiously delves into semi-philosophical territory when it keeps asking whether the suit makes the man or vice versa, but the fact is we simply don't care. All we knew was that Robert Downey Jr. made Iron Man and now sloppy writing has allowed him to be unmade, for which Downey reportedly received the sum of 50 million (!) dollars, probably for looking the other way as it happened. At least Stark is basically still the same after four films, as it was clear what audiences wanted and expected from the get-go. The same can't be said for the Mandarin, whose presence was alluded to in the prevous two Iron Man films, but all of a sudden proves to be someone else entirely halfway through the film. Don't trust the trailers for this film that insinuated that we were in for a major epic villain played by Kingsley, since that's all a lie and you'll end up disappointed. Blame it on the Chinese involvement, as Iron Man 3 was co-produced with Chinese studios to cut costs (Downey's salary had to come from somewhere after all). And in such a case, you simply can't afford to have a Chinese villain claiming to be after the destruction of western civilization. Interestingly enough, the Chinese market received a slightly different cut of the film including scenes not seen in the regular version, to make it even more attractive for Chinese audiences. Iron Man 3 bodes ill for the rest of Marvel's Phase 2, but there's gotta be better upcoming movies to make up for this huge letdown. Ant-Man maybe? 

 

The Great Gatsby: ***/*****, or 7/10

Another visual feast by Baz Lurhmann (Moulin Rouge, Australia). The fifth version of the classic book by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and definitely the most extravagant, as we would have expected from Luhrmann, who always tends to lavishly overstylize his films. This is his first foray into the realm of 3D, and fortunately it's a successful one at that. From a narrative viewpoint, the movie predictably feels less intriguing. In the early Roaring Twenties, war veteran Nick Carraway (a rather dull Tobey Maguire, as is the norm) moves to Long Island, next door to a giant mansion belonging to the seemingly incredibly wealthy but enigmatic Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio, another one of his hugely rich and influential but emotionally tormented big screen souls). Drawn to the unreal world of fabulous upperclass decadence, Carraway soon gets his taste of high society as he attends one of Gatsby's unbelievably amazing parties. Gatsby soon purposefully reveals himself to Nick and recruits him to arrange a meeting between himself and Nick's attractive cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan), a long lost love of Gatsby from before the Great War whom he lost contact with and who has since gone on to marry a rich but quite dislikeable land owner (Joel Edgerton). Hoping to respark their love thanks to Nick's involvement bridging their past, Gatsby and Daisy soon reunite and haphazardly start an affair that can only end in tragedy. But despite his attempts to basically bang a married girl, you hope Gatsby succeeds as he is a sympathetic character, once a boy who came from nothing but worked himself up to incredulous heights, while still favoring the lower class folks who live decent lives worth living, instead of engaging in the monotony of endless partying. Gatsby appears to make a stand for the poor, hard working labourers with his understanding attitude and actions, which can only lead to his downfall from the rich ruling classes and their corrupting power over everything and everyone. But what a downfall it is, shot with such dynamic vibrancy and wild colour schemes, presented in three jaw-droppingly beautiful dimensions! Nevertheless the blatant melodrama at the core is hard to be effectively sugarcoated, even in Luhrmann's elaborate ways. The Great Gatsby emulates its titular character, in the sense that it's packed with bombastic bravoura and laced with visual flair throughout, detracting you from the lack of a refined, satisfactory plot, which is notably absent if you care to see beneath the mask of its sensational appearance. Beneath the surface it's all fairly hollow, but not without a certain charm. This movie is a feast to behold as much as the parties it depicts would no doubt be a thrill to attend, but ultimately, it proves a fairly forgetful experience in the long run. And so Hollywood can keep remaking Fitzgerald's novel once every few decades to ever more spectacular results.