Hancock could've really been something. The superhero genre, despite its popularity (and my own personal fondness for it), has not exactly been a venue for complex characters. The movies just go larger than life, painting good and evil in wide swaths that leave no room for quibbling. Hancock had a chance to turn everything around by deconstructing the superhero myth, demystifying it and bringing it closer to the real world. And for the first third of this film, it felt like we were going to get that. Unfortunately, there was an hour left in the picture, and old habits die hard.
Hancock is the world's only superhero, but he's not a particularly nice guy. He's an alcoholic, and often, when he's saving the day, he causes more damage than he prevents. The people of L.A. hate him for this. Then one day, he saves the life of Ray Embrey, an idealistic P.R. man who spends his time trying to convince corporations to give aid to poor countries. Ray offers Hancock his services, believing that he can help Hancock become the superhero that people want. But as all this is happening, Hancock finds himself inexplicably drawn to Ray's wife, Mary, and an earth-shattering secret between them threatens to change everything in their lives.
The first thirty minutes or so of this film are great. It's just a great set-up, and the Hancock character offers up tons of intriguing possibilities. He's a hero, but he's also a tremendous jerk. Unfettered with origin stories or distinct motivations, Hancock starts out as something more than your prototypical superhero. He didn't see his parents murdered, or have his dying uncle tell him "with great power comes great responsibility." He's just a guy trying to cope with being alone in the world, be it through superheroics or a bottle of bourbon. It's quite a character, and one that just had tons of potential. But then the first act ends, and the script takes a hard left turn, letting go of all its potential and dragging the film into typical blockbuster fare. There are still some good scenes, but it feels like the film just never takes it to the next step, content with mucking about with a muddled mythology that never really manages to make sense.
Peter Berg's shaky cam style makes its way into a blockbuster, and it mostly works. It doesn't always make the action easy to follow, but it adds incredible urgency to his scenes. But Berg is really at his best when shooting simple things, his camera picking up little nuances that tell us so much. Berg likes to draw in close to his actors, letting them reveal their characters with things as small as an eye twitch. It doesn't all work, however. Berg isn't great at showing us the fantastic, and the style doesn't lend itself well to the typical big blockbuster musical score. It just doesn't mesh well, and a couple of scenes come off awkward because of it.
The performances in the film are all really solid. Will Smith doesn't really get enough credit for his acting abilities. As Hancock, Smith is terribly compelling, a remarkably strong portrait of loneliness. Smith is at his best when he goes smaller, when he's not trying to chew up the scenery. He gets to do that here, and it's good stuff to watch. Jason Bateman plays the everyman really well, and he's the heart of this picture. Charlize Theron is always really good, and this film just continues the trend.
There is word that there is an R-rated director's cut of Hancock floating around somewhere that is thirty minutes longer and features a good deal more complexity. That sounds like a version worth waiting for, and hopefully, something we'll eventually see on DVD. This current version of the film has its strengths, but in the end, it becomes little more than your average summer blockbuster, falling into the same old bad habits that these movies tend to have. Which isn't to say it's bad, really, since there's still lots of fun to be had watching an inebriated Will Smith breaking things. It just isn't everything it could be.
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