“HANCOCK”
Will Smith, Jason Bateman
Directed by Peter Berg
Rated PG-13
Wide release

By Steve Warren

There are so many different movies in “Hancock”—superhero comedy, special effects spectacular, social satire, potential romantic triangle/domestic drama, prison dramedy, existential angst machine and, above all, acting showcase for Will Smith—it’s like spending a day at the film festival, only much shorter (though it feels long) and not as entertaining.

The initial premise is delicious, especially if you’ve ever watched movie superheroes wreak havoc in the pursuit of justice and wondered who’s gonna clean up all that mess, let alone pay for it.

John Hancock (Smith) is L.A.’s resident superhero, but he lacks social skills and has an image problem. He has no alter ego, he’s just Hancock—sloppy, alcoholic, derelict Hancock—24/7. Not only does he make a mess preventing crime and apprehending bad guys (to the tune of $9 million in collateral damage for his latest escapade), but even his takeoffs and landings leave potholes in their wake.

Hancock is a credible do-gooder: He can do cool things like fly, pick up trucks with one hand and stop a locomotive with his body, and bullets bounce off of him. But he takes all the credit for the good stuff, and none of the responsibility for the bad. He ignores subpoenas calling him to answer for the damage he’s caused, and the city begins to think the cure is worse than the disease. Even little kids call him an a**hole, which infuriates him.

“I’m not the most charming guy in the world,” Hancock admits at one point, just so you know Smith is acting.

Fate crosses Hancock’s path with that of Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman), a public relations guy who’s trying to save the world by asking corporations to give something back. He’s working up to oil companies by starting small with pharmaceuticals. Needless to say, it’s not going well. This “Bono of PR” gets the idea that he can help Hancock, and invites him to dinner with his wife Mary (Charlize Theron) and son Aaron (Jae Head).

As soon as Mary looks at Hancock, the movie starts going south. There’s not going to be a sex thing between them, is there? That would be wrong in so many ways. But director Peter Berg lets the sexual tension mount for half an hour or more before the truth is revealed, and “Hancock” becomes a different movie.

Ray convinces Hancock to do prison time, knowing he’ll be released as soon as Los Angeles realizes it can’t survive without him. The seriousness of the prison therapy scenes, brief as they are, prepares you for things to come. There’s a lot of gravitas in the final half-hour, as Hancock faces identity issues and other existential crises. It’s as if Woody Allen had shifted into his Ingmar Bergman mode in the middle of one of his comedies.

For a semi-epic, “Hancock” boasts an enormous number of close-ups, many shot with a handheld camera, which makes them hard to watch. The climactic sequence would probably be confusing, if it were worth thinking about at all. There’s a nice, warm comedic touch at the end, but even then, well enough isn’t left alone.

It’s an Embrey family tradition that Mary cooks spaghetti every Thursday night. She probably throws it against the wall to see if it sticks, which pretty much sums up how “Hancock” was made. 2.5 STARS