Of course "Iron Man 3," which pits Tony aganst an Osama bin Laden-style terrorist-guru known as the Mandarin ( Ben Kingsley), is a lot more brutal than the old Hope-Crosby pictures. "Sweetheart," he replies, "that's the title of my autobiography." "A girl and a couple of lame quips, that's all you got?" a female assassin taunts Tony. This is the kind of film in which the hero can swear revenge against the villain for injuring his friend, then a few scenes later earn big laughs from the sight of Tony Stark in Iron Man regalia tottering down narrow stone steps like a drunk drag queen in nosebleed heels. For a franchise on the brink of fatigue, this attitude seems just about right - especially considering that all of the Iron Man movies are more self-aware comedies than dramas, with overlapping, often improvised-sounding dialogue and winks at the audience which suggest that the filmmakers are fans of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby's affable Road series.
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