If I Wrote 'Em: Iron Man

I mentioned this in passing the other day, but if I was writing Iron Man (I'm a comic fan, we all dream about one day writing our favorite characters.), well, I'd start by making him a skrull and retconning everything of the past few years into oblivion and then sprinkling holy water on the rent in the fabric of narrative causality to make sure no one could ever use them again (I mean, seriously. You have a big ethical dilemma that splits your heroes into two camps. Whichever side Captain America is on is the one that's moral. The other one is that one that needs to be treated with care, to make an effective case or else be nothing more than a group of fools or villains. Civil War made Tony Stark the evil mastermind behind everything wrong with the Marvel Universe. How does that even get out of a writer's conference?). But I'd also take a different tack than the Ellis-inspired "futurist" take that's been so popular lately.

I don't think Iron Man works when he's the smartest person in the room. Not as a cut-rate Reed Richards in a robot suit. When he's so smart, so capable, that his gaze extends years into the future where everything is brighter and better. He needs to be more human than that, more grounded. Because what Iron Man represents isn't the bleeding edge of technology, marching ever closer to some technological utopia. He represents the human will, the human drive to use our technology to be better. He's not someone who should have solutions, to have answers handed to him on a silver platter. But someone who needs to wrestle with his own failings and insecurities and manages, through sheer bloody-minded determination to come up with a solution patched together with spit, hope, and duct tape. He's someone who should be flying by the seat of his pants, always on the verge of collapse, of failure, who plans and prepares like a man wearing armor made out of Batman's utility belt. But above all he should be a hero.

Iron Man started off as a commentary on the military-industrial complex that was seemingly extending its tentacles during the 50s and 60s. A result of Cold War paranoia and science-fetishism. He was the heir to an arms manufacturer injured in a foreign country in southeast Asia and forced to work for the dirty commies if he wanted to survive a horrific injury to his heart. But he used his equipment, his knack for inventing to build his suit of armor, to defeat his captors, and embark on a heroic career to fight for the American way. To prove our technological superiority by beating up a host of Communist pretenders.

It's an origin that doesn't work in this day and age and has been rightly updated. I guess the movie is going for the terrorist and American imperialism angle which certainly fits. But I'm more interested in those first few minutes of Robert Downey acting note-perfect like my version of Tony Stark would. That's because, in this day and age, Iron Man isn't about the military industrial complex. He's a stand-in for corporate culture. Not the get rich at any costs, monolithic dreadful entity of the 80s, either, but more about how our institutions, our companies can be used to influence the world around us.

Because my Iron Man is Richard Branson with a conscience. Someone who's realized that he can do more to help the world than just cut a big check or start a new charity. An adventurer, someone with more money than he knows what to do with, who uses his wealth to push himself and his machines to the limit. Like the unfortunate Steve Fossett he'll be the first to strap himself into an experiment, like Howard Hughes he's driven to be the one to set the speed record in his latest aeroplane.

It's not about the suit. It's about the man inside the suit. The one who's pushed by his ghosts, haunted by his demons, rebelling against his legacy. A rich man, a playboy, who one tragic day had something awful happen to him - whether it's a bomb or a convoy getting attacked or getting shot or whatever, the details don't really matter. And whom was nearly forced to use his inventions, his knowledge, for some awful ends or be killed. But who took the third route, the hero's path. Who opted to gamble on the slim chance that he could innovate his way out of the problem. He used his skill and the opportunity to not just escape but to defeat his captors. That's the moment where Tony Stark becomes Iron Man. Not when he dons the helmet or fires up he suit, but when he's almost beyond hope sitting in some cave or cell far away from all the luxuries he enjoys. When he slumps down, nearly all hope gone, nearly giving in, but who decides to find that solution.

A man who uses his influence, his connection, to help out everyone who hasn't had his breaks and his privileges. He's a social crusader. A technocrat libertarian, not a bleeding heart liberal nor an arch neo-con. He's someone who should be figuratively slapping away the president's hand because he hasn't done enough for this cause or that cause, not joining the cabinet. He's the rebel inside the system, pulling it down from the innards with one hand, putting it back up in better shape with the other. Not the face of oppression, of repression, out of a misguided sense of making everyone safe. Iron Man's the hero who knows how fragile and how strong the average person can be because Iron Man's the most human hero of all. The one who's pulled himself up out of the dirt, out of despair, who's battled back his doubts and deficiencies, and made himself into someone who can stand shoulder to shoulder with a god (Which is where the Mandarin comes in but that's a different post entirely.).

Oh, and I'd work on fleshing out his supporting cast because it's the Pepper Potts and Bethany Cabes and Jim Rhodes of the narrative that really breathe life into the story.