The ultimate male power one-man-show, Iron Man is less successful as political allegory than as sexual fantasia. Its most exhilarating moments are essentially pornographic: gadget porn, war porn, rehab porn (you don’t have to see the thing to know that the spiritual rehabilitation for the protagonist is supported subtextually by the actual rehabilitation of the actor who plays him), and porn porn. Each incarnation of Tony Stark’s super suit is sexier than the last, with the final model’s lovingly CGIed streamlined curves simultaneously suggesting hardness and touchability. Better still are the countless close-ups of Robert Downey Jr inside this metal womb, his face fixed in concentrated ecstasy as his hands ejaculate fire. Oh, whoops–spoiler alert.

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