Iron Man 2 **

Director: Jon Favreau
Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, Don Cheadle
Mickey Rourke, Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell, Samuel L. Jackson
Garry Shandling, John Slattery, Clark Gregg

Iron Man 2 is an unapologetically American snapshot of current times. It's unapologetic because it shows no caution in glorifying excess; from its convoluted plot, to its thinly disguised allegories about politics, economics and society, almost every element proves to be cringe worthy and deluded.
When the film opens, Tony Stark (Downey Jr.) appears in front of a huge crowd to unveil his company's grand world fair.
Surrounded by perky cheerleaders and massive screens he's a combination of Steve Jobs, an evangelical guru and Barack Obama. As he gloats about how he "privatized world peace" while his fans roar excitedly, he's a disturbing reminder of a time and age where politicians have become more rock stars than actual politics professionals.
When Tony's father (played by Slattery) appears on a screen in all his Walt Disney like glory, it's impossible not to chuckle at its direct aim at American culture icons but also expect the movie to deliver much more.
If the screenplay, written with slight strokes of cynicism by Justin Theroux, had explored this more thoroughly, perhaps the movie would've resulted in something more interesting and compelling.
Instead after this, the movie becomes an amalgam of Freudian issues, lazy character development and superhero movie clichés.
It turns out that Tony is dying; the palladium in his arc reactor is poisoning him and he chooses to live his last days in decadence.
He hands out his company to loyal companion Pepper Potts (Paltrow), disregards Congress' wish to use the iron suit for the military, enters a public feud with rival Hammer industries (Rockwell plays CEO Justin Hammer) and embarks on a partying binge that leaves disastrous PR repercussions.
While Tony desperately seeks for attention and throws technologically aided tantrums, an evil plan is forming across the world.
Russian physicist Ivan Vanko (Rourke) has decided to seek vengeance from Stark Co. believing they stole his father's iron suit technology and destroyed his life.
Ivan and Tony then create a facile dichotomy: they are both trying to solve unfinished business concerning their fathers, they represent polar ideological differences (the film's juxtaposition of a McCarthy-ian hearing featuring "good guy" Stark, with cuts of the evil Russian building his own war machine are tacky to say the least) and in a fourth wall breaking way, they embody a tête-à-tête of two of the most fascinating comebacks in recent Hollywood history.
With so many things to choose to concentrate in, Iron Man 2 chooses them all and becomes an uneven spectacle that sometimes drags, sometimes excites but rarely engages.
The film is built from many parts that don't work well together and for a film about a man made out of iron, this technological mishap metaphor can't help but feel ironic.
It's a pleasure to see Downey Jr. in action though. Reminding us why choosing him to play Stark was a genius casting decision, he delivers his lines with enough snap and wry humor to evoke Cary Grant.
He's one of the few actors who can make snark seem lovable and his scenes with Gwyneth Paltrow are the best thing in the movie. Their chemistry is delightful and might be the one thing you want to see more of.
The rest of the cast does satisfying job, Rourke is effective, if not memorable while Cheadle and Johansson are vastly underused (they are supposed to have bigger storylines in upcoming sequels) and Rockwell delivers his best Tom Cruise on cocaine in the 80's impression to make Hammer the most annoying character in the film.
All the parts never amount to much and the entire film relies on stereotypes that the first installment refreshed.
When it comes down to capturing the film in a single moment, a scene comes to mind that's both pathetic and unsuccessful: a drunk Tony Stark pees the iron man suit after which he proceeds to dance to no other than Daft Punk's Robot Rock.
If the song choice isn't wildly imaginative, it's the sense of trying so hard to impress that makes this Iron Man a tin can in dire need of a repair.

Brooklyn's Finest **

Director: Antoine Fuqua
Cast: Richard Gere, Ethan Hawke, Don Cheadle, Wesley Snipes
Jesse Williams, Ellen Barkin, Brian F. O'Byrne, Shannon Kane
Lili Taylor, Will Patton, Vincent D'Onofrio, Logan Marshall-Green

Despite a cast that ought to guarantee a superb movie experience, Brooklyn's Finest often verges on parody with its treatment of the police genre.
Director Fuqua centers on the parallel stories of three police force members in the title borough.
Officer Eddie Dugan (Gere) is a mere week away from retiring when he's asked to train rookies that lead him to no good.
Detective Salvatore Procida (Hawke) is a family man in need of money to support his ever growing family (Taylor plays his wife), which he gets from cash gone unnoticed in drug raids.
Detective Clarence Butler (Cheadle) is working undercover who gets offered a chance at a promotion if he helps bust his friend Caz (Snipes), a known criminal who's been recently released from jail.
The three men show us what countless movies have shown us for decades: being a cop is not easy, noble or good if you're in New York City.
That Fuqua does so with a certain degree of condescension towards the audience seems absolutely bonkers.
There is not a single cop flick cliché these characters aren't willing to embody. Eddie's only friend for example is, you guessed it, a hooker with a heart of gold (Kane), while Salvatore's Catholic guilt forces him to pray before he shoots people and when the time comes for each of the three leads to get their comeuppance, it happens within the limits of the moral lesson they were meant to teach us about all along.
The film isn't lacking in good performances (how could it with this cast?) but most of the time it doesn't know what to do with the talent it's given.
Perhaps Brooklyn's Finest was just too ambitious and overreaching for Fuqua, who has no idea how to handle parallel storylines without turning them into a violent Destiny's Child video sans split screens.
Every time there is a major set piece, all the characters go through the same things at the same time; when to this unbelievable fact you add an ominous, overpowering score, we are left with a sloppy version of Magnolia that thinks it has important things to say about interconnections but really has nothing new or even interesting to contribute.