WILL Smith’s latest July Fourth weekend blockbuster, “Hancock,” is basically two wildly different movies joined at the sprockets. The more entertaining one is a superhero spoof crammed with laughs and action.
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The choppy final half-hour veers off in a stunningly different direction, centering on perhaps the least likely romantic triangle in screen history.
This movie fails so spectacularly – and on so many levels – that it’s like watching a train plummet off a bridge.
I’d guess that legions of fans have made Smith the world’s biggest box-office attraction and will put up with this because the first part mostly meets their expectations, however modest.
Parents should be cautioned, though, that “Hancock” contains
gratuitous levels of violence and profanity (including, disgracefully, three uses of an anti-gay epithet and too many
“a – – holes” to count) for a movie with a PG-13 rating.
Smith is smoothly effective as Hancock, a disheveled, trash-talking superhero first seen sleeping off a drunk on a park bench while surrounded by booze bottles. Hancock verbally abuses a youngster who tries to alert him to a major crime in progress before woozily heading off into action.
That action, including impaling a vehicle atop LA’s Capitol Records building, results in millions of dollars worth of damage and triggers the latest in a series of subpoenas that the attitude-challenged Hancock has long ignored.
Hancock has an image problem that Ray (Jason Bateman) – possibly the first altruistic p.r. man I’ve encountered – is eager to fix. He meets Hancock after our hero plucks Ray’s stuck car from the path of an oncoming train – even if Hancock does end up totaling the vehicle, along with Ray’s driveway.
Ray has his client surrender and go to jail, which turns out to look at lot like Adam Sandler’s remake of “The Longest Yard.” This damage-control specialist knows the LAPD will eventually need Hancock’s services, no matter how messy the side effects.
When the call finally comes, Hancock shaves off his stubble and dons a snappy pleather suit to handle a hostage situation in a bank, all the while exuding bonhomie.
Unfortunately, the filmmakers don’t seem to be interested in developing this story line (or providing an interesting villain). They ditch it for a totally new twist on the genre, which would be laudable if it actually worked.
Director Peter Berg
(the Arab-bashing “The Kingdom”) has been working in a fairly realistic violent mode, so it’s a shock when the movie suddenly gets touchy-feely, talking about Hancock’s back story and powers and vulnerabilities, which seem to change from scene to scene.
All this talking also violates a cardinal rule of the movies: “Show, don’t tell.” But I have a feeling
“Hancock” will offer numerous deleted flashback scenes on the DVD.
I haven’t even mentioned second-billed Charlize Theron, who, as Ray’s wife, Mary, does little more than glower at Hancock for the first two-thirds of the film.
To say that Mary has a past would be the understatement of the summer. Let’s just say her character makes no sense.
Nor are Mary’s relationships with Ray or Hancock remotely plausible, even in a fantasy context.
Leaving behind the laughs for schmaltz, “Hancock” chickens out
at the last minute, lurching toward a cop-out happy ending that gives every indication of having been reshot at the behest of test audiences. Well, at least you won’t be bored.
HANCOCK
Running time: 92 minutes. Rated PG-13 (gratuitous violence, profanity). Tonight at the E-Walk, the Lincoln Square, others.