On Tuesday I took my first bite into the crispy, crunchy Double Down sandwich, KFC’s radical new invention that has caused health gurus to blow their lids. We’ve all learned one thing in the past month — if you swap out carbs for another piece of chicken, then you are a horrid, disgusting creative mind, right? No dice, vegans and hypocrites: sure, the Double Down is fattening and slathered in butter, but come on folks — are you ignoring the combo meals on KFC’s menu? There are far more unhealthy options.

What I found, amidst all the hype, were two chicken tenders, surrounding a layer of creamy cheese and bacon, fulfilling and wonderful, everything I had hoped for — and just as messy as expected. And then an hour later? I saw Jon Favreau’s much-anticipated Iron Man 2. It’s been faulted for it’s own sparse, creamy and delicious center act — one that admittedly doesn’t have a great deal of action or tension. It’s been called overstuffed, falling into the same trap of larger sequels like Dead Man’s Chest. For some critics, these two slices of  Robert Downey Jr.’s chicken and improvisational wit have proven too much.

But for me (and for any viewer who even attempts to enjoy Iron Man 2 for the same merits as the original film), Iron Man 2 was a little slice of comic book heaven, amping up the first film in the right ways while retaining its wit and ambivalent attitude. Like the Double Down, what Favreau’s film sacrifices in structural integrity it makes up for by being ungodly amounts of delicious.

The advertising campaign for Iron Man 2 has largely centered around the villainous Ivan Vanko, also known as Whiplash, a man who steps out from Russian obscurity to toss Tony Stark around during the Monaco Grand Prix. The action sequence is one of the most riveting and tense moments in a film that feels packed to the brim, but Mickey Rourke’s Vanko is not the villain of the picture. Like the best villains, he doesn’t consider himself one: Rourke plays the role with quiet and powerful reserve. He and Stark only meet a select few times on the screen, but when they do, it’s for powerful effect. (More after the break.)

The real villain of the film is the impossible situation that Downey’s Stark has gotten himself into — as the first and only superhero whose identity is public knowledge, the burden of being Iron Man is figuratively and literally killing him, while drawing scrutiny from the government and his closest friends. What some are saying is an inert middle act is actually quite full of momentum; Justin Theroux’s script spends time building all the characters up in their unique criticisms of our title character, as he slips further into his personal hell.

But that doesn’t convey how fun that downward spiral — and, no duh, his heroic ascent — is to watch. We already know that Downey and Stark (like Stark and Iron Man) are one. If you loved Downey’s hilarious and badass one-liners from the first film, you’ll leave here thrilled. The dialogue throughout the sequel is pitch perfect, full of throwaway lines, gags and subtle moments of character work. As essentially an ensemble piece, Downey acts as its ringleader and once again his talent proves why he deserves more than anyone (sorry Mickey) to return from the abyss of a broken career.

There’s so much to Iron Man 2 that it’s hard to summarize after a single viewing without diverging into a babbling rant. There’s the great new arc of Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) and her relationship with her boss. There’s Sam Rockwell as the sniveling Justin Hammer, a shadowy reflection of Stark. There’s the element of Stark’s father re-emerging in his life — a storyline that is actually quite moving in the middle of the slam-bam action stuff. There’s the S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff that was hinted at in the closing credits of the original film, and Scarlett Johansson’s gorgeous figure.

I’ll take a moment out to repeat that last bit — Scarlett is resplendent in her voluptuousness in this film. Show-stoppingly stunning. And deadly for good measure.

I could ramble on, you see, but ultimately I think this is a popcorn flick made to be ravenously devoured by the masses, not poo-pooed for some perceived inferiority to the original. Favreau’s first outing was criticized for lacking enough action, and it makes up for it in spades in the first and third acts. Barring another Terrence Howard/Don Cheadle swap — the latter just lacks the icy coolness of the former, making for a less-than-perfect match with Downey — I can’t think of much to improve on here.

And who are we kidding — if you’re reading this, you’ll see it anyway. If you take anything from me, then heed my advice: drive to the theater with a Double Down in tow.

(Special Thanks to Porsche for the combo review idea and to Paul for experiencing the Double Down. You will live on in legend.)