Hancock

An alcoholic super-hero (Will Smith) finds himself attracted to the wife (Charlize Theron) of the public relations professional (Jason Batemen) who’s trying to improve his image.

Hancock is a mess. It’s not quite the train-wreck that was Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, but it’s pretty damn close. Though only two writers are credited, watching the film you get the feeling that dozens more must have sliced and diced their way through the script during the years it floundered in “development hell” before Sony finally got it into production. Really, the performers never had a chance.

The problem is that the film makes no sense and has no point. It starts out telling a story about the enormous amount of pressure and isolation someone with Will Smith’s character’s gifts would experience, then veers into a bizarre and awkward love story, until finally abandoning any sense of a story all together for a faux-dramatic set piece involving indoor rain, doctors, and an axe. It’s almost like the filmmakers spliced together the acts of three different screenplays to get this script.

Granted, Will Smith does his best to carry the film and does succeed in making it watchable, but not even his considerable charisma combined with the comedic timing of Jason Bateman can overshadow the huge, abyss-like plot holes that, like cracks in the hull, sink Hancock.