I'm on a listserv of mostly women music and arts journalists, and we've been talking quite a bit about "Iron Man" and the problems it perpetuates in the context of the dearth of strong female characters and leads in the summer blockbuster line-up. And I agree with all of it, and am disappointed that Selma Blair as supporting hero Liz Sherman is essentially going to carry our gender in this department for the foreseeable future and I don't even read Hellboy.
However, on the suspension-of-feminist-criticism visceral level of movie-going sheepie, OMGDUDEIRONMANWASSORAD.
As 7,368,902 people have mentioned, Robert Downey, Jr. was sublime, the writing was actually good and the effects were smokin. And even though the science was ludicrously implausible, the screenplay had Stark doing enough work and calculation and calibration that it became not quite out of the question. I have some criticisms of details, but you don't care what I thought about the Vanity Fair chick thing or the insta-sober thing or whatever. The point is, I left the theater like all "Sabbath RAWKS!" and stuff, and that's not a bad feeling to have every once in a while.
But that doesn't mean I wouldn't have dug a nice, lesson-teaching tangle with She-Hulk.