Hancock positions itself as an anti-comic movie for those of us sick of superpowers and unitards. But by the end it becomes — what else? — a rather bland comic-book movie, the very kind of film it was harpooning 60 minutes before. And a unitard makes a brief, crotch-hugging cameo.
It’s a shame, too: Hancock was really onto something. We’ve never really seen a homeless superhero. Or a drunk superhero doing twelve-step programs in the state lockup. Or have we ever seen Superman do a colon checkup using another man's head? Marvel and DC have touched on some anti-hero themes in their comics, but they’ve yet to trickle down into the films — and never at this potency. Sure, we saw Spider-Man in his Viagra phase (Spider-Man 3) and Superman no doubt battled some demons, including an evil version of himself (Superman III), but Hancock takes it all to a new level. And then he blows it.
For once, though, I can’t blame Will Smith. In the past his overacted cockiness has killed movies, but not here. He’s right at home inside the deviantly dysfunctional Hancock, a superhero who has no qualms with getting superbuzzed and passing out under bus shelters. This is how we first meet him — a wreck of a man with stink oozing from every pore. One question, though: how much bourbon does it take to get a superhero drunk? You’d think a tanker truck would be about right, but the movie suggests a single bottle is quite enough.
Hancock lives in Los Angeles and the entire city seems to be aware of his superpowers — how refreshing of a comic-book movie to skip the hero’s origins. Los Angelinos are also aware of his frequent blunders, in fact he even has his own channel on YouTube. In one clip, he’s seen tossing a beached whale back into the ocean … on top of a sailboat. That's nothing, though, compared to a recent bank heist he foils. The folly carves up a freeway overpass, totals several cop cars and ends when he impales an SUV full of bank robbers onto the Capitol Records Tower requiring untold millions to remove. The city is his playground and with no one strong enough to enforce the law on him or present him a repair bill he’s allowed to destroy at will. But the city grumbles louder and louder.
It all boils over when Hancock causes a train derailment to save one man’s cruddy Volvo. The people turn on him, but the Volvo’s driver, PR hack Ray (Jason Bateman), sees an opportunity to turn the superhero’s image around. Hancock reluctantly accepts the offer after meeting Ray’s beautiful wife Mary (Charlize Theron), who is hiding something that might come as a surprise, a surprise you will be sad to learn is not interesting in any way. I could almost see director Peter Berg, that guy who's always swearing loudly on his movie's DVD featurettes, smirking from behind his camera, like he was pulling a fast one on us with Theron as the bait. Better luck next time, Peter.
Before the surprise is where Hancock starts to get interesting: milquetoast Ray vows to fix his new client’s troubled image. For starters, no more hard landings or take-offs during his aerial maneuvers around LA; the city is tired of fixing craters in the streets, Ray tells him. Next up, Hancock has to go to prison for the big-ticket items he’s destroyed. This leads to some enjoyable prison scenes including one where he puts an inmate’s head where the sun doesn’t shine or was never intended to shine (hint: it rhymes with "crass mole"). At any point Hancock — named after his signature, John Hancock — can easily just fly over the razor wire or crush through the concrete of his cell. But he sticks it out, even when the recess basketball is shot outside the prison yard.
The entire movie is kind of fun and goofy, but the story takes some weird twists that deviate from the original theme, which is Hancock’s moral rehabilitation. The movie seems to get bored with him and ditches to a new story when the boredom sets it. Sure enough, another superhero shows up and we’re thrust into another story — something about how two immortals can’t be near each other because their powers cancel each other out. Hancock worked best when it was about Hancock, and the second character not only allows a deviation from that, but a complete abandonment of the meat of the story.
It turns into a mediocre fireworks show with Hancock and his new equal stomping around the city causing all kinds of havoc. We got enough of that during Incredible Hulk, yet here we are again with lots more crumbled concrete and pulverized high-rises. Will Smith remains upbeat and enjoyable — at one point he impales a man on a Zagnut bar — but the whole routine feels like déjà vu from any of the last five superhero-filled summers.
And because Charlize Theron photographs so beautifully ...
Hancock positions itself as an anti-comic movie for those of us sick of superpowers and unitards. But by the end it becomes — what else? — a rather bland comic-book movie, the very kind of film it was harpooning 60 minutes before. And a unitard makes a brief, crotch-hugging cameo.
The entire movie is kind of fun and goofy, but the story takes some weird twists that deviate from the original theme, which is Hancock’s moral rehabilitation. The movie seems to get bored with him and ditches to a new story when the boredom sets it. Sure enough, another superhero shows up and we’re thrust into another story — something about how two immortals can’t be near each other because their powers cancel each other out. Hancock worked best when it was about Hancock, and the second character not only allows a deviation from that, but a complete abandonment of the meat of the story.
