It serves a sequel’s purpose; it gives the sheep somewhere to go and get clipped. No one can reasonably complain about Don Cheadle taking over the supporting part of Col. "Rhodey" Rhodes from Terrence Howard (otherwise same principal cast and director, Jon Favreau), and Scarlett Johansson ingratiatingly prostitutes herself to prove that with the aid of computer manipulation she could be a martial-arts star, and a toothpick-chewing, Russian-accented Mickey Rourke cuts a menacing figure as the anti-Iron Man, wielding lightning-bolt laser bullwhips from both hands, and Sam Rockwell’s self-caricaturing corporate villain matches or exceeds the facetiousness of Robert Downey, Jr.’s fey superhero, here behaving almost as badly as Will Smith's in Hancock, letting his swollen ego run away with him: "I have successfully privatized world peace.” The rapid-fire, often overlapping, and half-clever dialogue (by Tropic Thunder scriptwriter Justin Theroux) provides better entertainment than the hardware and the pyrotechnics, and any effort at all in that department is gratifying for its gratuitousness. With Gwyneth Paltrow, Samuel L. Jackson. (2010) — Duncan Shepherd