And yet the character is apparently supposed to be… an American. Who, by his accent, is from the south or perhaps the rural West. Tony quips that the Mandarin “talks like a Baptist preacher.”
What’s going on here? In an age of repeated attempted attacks, some of them successful, by foreign-born Islamist savages, is the director, Shane Black, who wrote the muddled script with Drew Pearce, trying to make the case that it’s homegrown Americans we need to be worried about? Is he afraid to be accused of racism if he depicts terrorists as what they tend to be in reality — foreign Muslims?
Spoiler alert: Read no farther if you don’t want a central plot twist ruined. But what happens in the second half of the movie is critical to understanding the spinelessness of Hollywood and its revolting willingness to reduce the War on Terror to a cheap laugh.