Movie review: Hancock

by John P. Meyer

New rules for the invulnerability game.

Peter Berg is perhaps most widely known for his acting, from his portrayal of Dr. Billy Kronk in Chicago Hope to his supporting roles in Collateral and Lions for Lambs.

He's also a talented writer: Friday Night Lights (for which he has scripted 36 episodes) currently dishes up the most engaging, intelligent soap on network prime-time television. (Go Panthers!)

And then there are his feature film directing credits, which include the 2004 movie version of Friday Night Lights, and - more recently - 2007's The Kingdom. To this directing column he can now add the big budget Will Smith starrer, Hancock. And it's a nice addition.

You've seen the trailers: Hancock (Will Smith) is a super hero with a twisty down-and-out street bum cachet. He gets no respect from the citizens of Los Angeles (where he "lives," sleeping rough on bus stop benches) because he deserves none. Whenever he essays a rescue or intervenes in a crime, it's a toss-up as to whether the victims and constabulary might have been better off without him. For instance, when he lurches drunkenly into the sky and zooms off to the scene of a high-speed police chase, he takes out the glass-paneled siding of several downtown buildings en route. Upon arrival, the Uzi-wielding perps are indeed neutralized, but not before the platoon of cops giving chase are likewise put out of commission by collateral damage.

Hancock has no friends, unless one counts the half-gallon jug of whiskey that habitually accompanies him. It's a good thing his liver is invulnerable.

Purely by accident (and we're talking train wreck), Hancock meets up with bright but unsuccessful public relations guy Ray Embrey (Arrested Development's Jason Bateman). By way of thanks for saving his life, Ray offers to give Hancock a PR makeover, something he could clearly use - if, that is, he actually cared.

There's a rather longish portion of the movie during which we are meant to discover whether or not Hancock actually DOES care - in fact, this part takes up a good half of the 92-minute runtime. Fortunately, much is happening during Hancock's soul-searching, though I refer not so much to super-heroism as to craftily-revealed character development.

Much of what we learn about "Hancock: the tortured soul" comes during his incarceration (by tacit agreement, of course) for the series of property infractions he's committed against the city and people of Los Angeles while "fighting crime." Credit the ever-improving acting chops of Mr. Smith for the greater-than-average level of nuance on display during Hancock's participation in the AA meetings he attends with fellow convicts. When he eventually decides to open up (after routinely passing on his chance to share with the group), it's with a monosyllabic understatement that proves all the more touching for its simplicity.

As Ray had known they eventually would, the L.A police are forced to call upon Hancock for his unique talent set (i.e., bullets are useless against him). A cop is down in the line of fire, and only our reformed and dried-out hero can rescue her. Not to mention saving the lives of dozens of civilians taken hostage during the bank heist.

This incident provides the first opportunity for Hancock to try out the public image massaging techniques which Ray has been schooling him in. With these in mind, he's sporting a spiffy super-hero suit that is both aerodynamic and chromatically understated. (Nice togs!) Furthermore, he's been instructed to compliment the cops on their handling of events prior to his arrival, and thus can be heard to state "Good job!" - even when, perhaps, that commentary is not particularly warranted.

It's at about this halfway point through the film that a new story element emerges involving Hancock's heretofore cautious and seemingly confrontational relationship with Ray's wife, Mary (Charlize Theron, looking absolutely smashing). On occasions when Hancock has been invited to the Embrey household for dinner (he can't get enough of Mary's meatballs - but then, who can?), there's been a noticeable tension between the two, revealed primarily through surreptitious glances whose interpretation could swing in the direction of either attraction or cunning. (Tough to tell, though it's clear that something electric is passing between them.) Finally, during a celebratory dinner that the three attend on the evening following Hancock's successful resolution of the hostage crisis, Mary starts putting out the kind of "super bang me" signals that require little in the way of interpretation.

Hancock remembers nothing about his extended past. His only clue involves a pair of tickets for a long-ago showing of the movie Frankenstein. As the truth about Hancock's origin and backstory are gradually revealed, the limitations of his super powers are made clear in touching and very human fashion. It comes as a satisfying surprise that invulnerability is bestowed only at great personal cost.

The movie includes a range of clever touches, such as Hancock's method of shaving (hint: no razor required) to the laughingly ludicrous manner in which prison inmates brace him when he enters the Big House: I mean, come on, it's a cinch a guy who demolishes locomotives isn't going to end up as someone's bitch in the joint - but a demonstration is required to settle the matter.

As for effects: there's refreshingly less concern for the niceties of human flight than movie audiences have come to expect, post Superman. Hancock's drunken aerial excursions require little cgi-time because of the speed with which they occur: he simply launches into the air like a rocket, then crashes to the ground on the other end, totally devoid of form points.

There's something to be said for a super hero film that concentrates on characterizations as much as it does on sfx - and that something is "bravo!"