Mad Max: Fury Road

Director: George Miller
Starring: Tom Hardy, Charlize Theron, Nicholas Hoult, Hugh Keays-Byrne, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Riley Keough, Zoë Kravitz, Abbey Lee, Courtney Eaton, Josh Helman, Nathan Jones
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's always that risk of feeling completely lost or out of the loop when the latest film in a long-running franchise with which you have no familiarity is released. And in the rare event it's celebrated to the extent that George Miller's Mad Max: Fury Road is, it's easy to have a debate in your head whether you should even go through the trouble of seeing it. While that might be a close-minded thing to say, we all have those blank spaces in our moviegoing and it's a legitimate concern that my inability to get around to watching 1979's Mad Max, 1981's Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior or 1985's Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome could create a self-inflicted roadblock in any potential appreciation of the new film. But 10 minutes in, the female protagonist drives her War Rig right through those preconceived notions and I'm completely sold, up to speed and fully engulfed in the universe Miller created and has now returned to. No explanations necessary because it's right there on the screen, so much so that it takes until about an hour for an actual conversation to occur. In many ways, this should have been the highest-grossing movie worldwide because it speaks the one universal language: Action. Everything revealed is done so visually, and once Miller gets his hooks in, your his.

Technically, this delivers unlike any recent entry in the sci-fi/action genre, with effects, production design, action sequences and cinematography so spectacular you must be thinking this is some kind of a joke as you watch, mouth agape at what's transpiring.  If it's a common, justified complaint that we're beaten down every year by uninspired computer-generated mayhem, this is its cure and a beating I'd gladly take again with a smile on my face. Striving for artistic excellence absent in most movies of its ilk, it tells its story expertly with a hardly a misstep to be found. Hearing that a certain movie "needs to seen in a theater" usually causes my eyes to immediately roll back into my head, but the size and scope of this project legitimately demands it. Those prematurely proclaiming it one of the greatest action movies of all-time may only have to wait a few years before discovering the possibility they weren't that far off the mark.

Set in a future, post-apocalyptic desert wasteland where water and gasoline are in short supply, the grizzled Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy) is captured by a group of War Boys, led by the ruthless Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne), who takes him to the Citadel where he'll be imprisoned as a blood donor. But when Joe sends out one of his lieutenants, Furiosa (Charlize Theron), in a rig to collect gasoline, he realizes she's stolen his Five Wives selected for breeding and gone off course, double-crossing him. Joe enlists an entire army, including a sick War Boy named Nux (Nicholas Hoult) who will stop at nothing to impress him, and has Max strapped to the hood of his truck for blood supply. Looking to make it to the "Green Place" with the women and escape Joe's tyranny, Furiosa's path will cross with Max and Nux's, resulting in a combustible situation that test everyone's loyalty and will to survive.

There's a thrilling chase sequence that seems to last about twenty minutes in the front half of the picture and  the highest compliment that can be given to it is that you don't feel as if your senses have been pummeled and are actually looking forward to whatever follows. Since Miller and cinematographer John Seale are such pros at sfilming these scenes, the action is the setup and there's never a doubt as to what's happening at any given moment. One of the script's biggest strengths is that we're immediately keyed in to the decisions these characters make and why without the burden of needless expository dialogue.

Furiosa's motivations are clear early on, as she intends to be the one who shakes things up, leading a surprising rebellion that lets Immortan Joe (clad in a terrifying Skeletor-like breathing mask) know that, even in a desperate, post-apocalyptic wasteland, these women aren't his property, nor is anyone else. And Theron is in full ass-kicking mode, giving the one-armed Furiosa a death stare that would send any potential threat heading for the hills before she even throws a punch or fires a shot, both of which she does plenty of. The arc of Hardy's Max and Hoult's Nux is a little more complicated, but no less riveting.

As the maniacal loner and prisoner finally getting a taste of freedom, there's an air of mystery surrounding what Max will actually do with it because he's flat-out dangerous. He could easily align with Furiosa or become her and the girls' worst enemy at the drop of a hat and while Hardy's performance has widely been labeled as merely sufficient in the face of Theron's, it's worth considering how effortlessly he replaces Mel Gibson with hardly anyone noticing. Nux's job as a character is to essentially sacrifice himself for Joe's greater cause so what resonates about Hoult in the role is how the realization slowly washes over him that it may not be worth it and he'd rather be a human being than a weapon. And The Five Wives (played by Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Riley Keough, Zoë Kravitz, Abbey Lee and Courtney Eaton) are hardly portrayed as passive damsels in distress, often taking a surprisingly active roles in the carnage as Miller also lets each of their personalities shine through, simultaneously subverting and exploiting their supermodel images for the good of the story.

This feels entirely like how action movies used to be made in the 1980's and it's arguable the chase scenes and action sequences (which pretty much compose every minute of its length) give Star Wars: The Force Awakens a run for its money in terms of production design and its balance of CGI and practical effects. You could call Miller's creation a throwback but doing so would almost imply it isn't the real thing or in any way feels like a reboot or remake in any traditional sense. There's a lot to take in at once in terms of what's on screen so it's not unusual that your jaw suddenly drops at the visual inventiveness of  it all, such as the guitar player strapped to the front of the rig or the "polecats" of Joe's army.   And because there's so little dialogue, the music has to carry much of the load, with Junkie XL's recognizably pulse-pounding score more than delivering the goods.

As big an achievement as this is, and how little it feels directed by a 70-year-old, it's accomplishments are primarily technical, making it difficult to gauge just how much stayed with me after the credits rolled. It's easy to imagine watching the movie multiple times with little difficulty because it's so exciting, but there is a nagging worry that its pleasures, as considerable as they are, may only run skin deep. Of course, this could just be a side effect of it being a genre picture or possibly where my unfamiliarity with the franchise prevents it from leaving the long-lasting impact it would on someone who grew up with the original films.

While nostalgia admittedly went a long way in covering for some of The Force Awakens' shortcomings in the minds of many, it's nearly impossible to level that accusation here. And there's nothing at all average in the execution of it, as Miller temporarily breaks down the barrier that's historically prevented action movies from gaining critical respectability. Thematically, there is more to it if you're willing to read between the lines to see this as a Biblical allegory about feminism, war, oppression or the environment, but Fury Road's ultimate value comes in the pure joy of just simply experiencing it.
          

Prometheus

Director: Ridley Scott
Starring: Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender, Guy Pearce, Idris Elba, Logan Marshall-Green, Charlize Theron, Sean Harris, Rafe Spall
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The term "meet your maker" is interpreted literally in Ridley Scott's polarizing Prometheus, his quasi-prequel to Alien that has both less and more in common with that series than you'd imagine. From the get-go it's clear exactly what kind of science fiction this will be. The smart kind, with big ideas. Whether all the ideas presented are fully explored is a separate issue, but at least enough are, even as I lost count of how many movies those ideas seemed to reference. It's territory we've been in before and there's never much doubt where the story's going, but fortunately this still manages to be effective on its own terms. The film looks great, employing practical style special effects and set design that goes a step further than we're used to seeing in most big budget sci-fi blockbusters. Even just the opening title sequence confirms that. But the story exists in this weird gray area between being presented directly as an Alien prequel and setting up its own philosophical mythology that draws heavily from 2001: A Space Odyssey, it's sequel, 2010, and even something like Mission To Mars. Anyone approaching this looking for extremely deep insights into human existence might be disappointed, but as far as relentless sci-fi, horror adventures go, it ranks high.

The year is 2089 and archeologists Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green) have discovered an ancient map in Scotland that connects many cultures and is interpreted by them as an invitation by humanity's "Engineers," or creators, to travel to their distant moon. The mission's  funded by the late Peter Weyland (Guy Pearce in old age make-up), the Weyland Corporation's founder and CEO. After traveling in a state of suspended stasis, Shaw, Holloway and the rest of their Prometheus crew led by Captain Janek (Idris Elba) awaken at their destination in 2093. They meet the mission's director, the emotionally vacant Dr. Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron) and its monitor, an android named David (Fassbender) who allegedly has no feelings, but  whose behavior and appearance is patterned after Peter O' Toole's T.E. Lawrence from Lawrence of Arabia. During their investigation they get get much more than they bargained for, with a discovery that puts not only their lives in jeopardy, but could potentially threatens the survival of the entire human race. They wanted answers and get them, but it don't come without a price.  

If there's an issue it's in the film's inability to completely break free from the Alien franchise and fully establish itself as its own standalone entity. Of course the pressure was on (at least from a studio marketing perspective) to push this as a "prequel to Alien." In a sense it is, without Scott going so far as to completely acknowledge that. Basically he wants to have his cake and eat it too, which is problematic only when certain Alien elements are jammed into the second and third acts of the film, giving it a different feel than it started with. Scott would have just been better off severing all ties and influence to that franchise, saving the audience some confusion and making for a cleaner finished product. Even the very last shot of the film feels more like a shout-out to fans than anything that organically sprung from the narrative. But if that's the worst problem the film has, I'd still say it's in pretty good shape, especially considering the number of ways this could have gone wrong and come off indistinguishable from the usual big budget sc-fi devoid of ideas. It definitely doesn't deserve to be lumped into that category and nothing about the story or its presentation seems at any point to be unsophisticated, or worse yet, dumbed down to make it more accessible.

The idea of future explorers searching for the human race's origins makes for an engaging start point and it's held together by a couple of really strong performances and fantastic effects work (not to mention a cool 80's throwback sci-fi miniseries-style score from Marc Streitenfeld). Fassbender's performance as David the android already starts as something interesting but only becomes more fascinating when the other characters start pushing him and his true motivations boil to the surface. Jealousy, paranoia and even a certain level of arrogance start to seep through his robotic facade. This is the most obvious homage to 2001's HAL, as a computer begins to show obvious signs of a soul and personality, but with disastrous results for the rest of the crew. Fassbender's meticulousness keeps you wondering whether there is more to this android than just circuits while also making it subtly clear he could just be programmed to follow order and preserve the mission. Either option seems equally disturbing whenever he's on screen. The real emotional android just might be Theron's Dr.Vickers whom she plays as detached ice queen and non-believer to her core, backing the mission strictly as a business decision and nothing more. The faith and belief is supplied by the protagonist, Noomi Rapace's Shaw, who can hang with Sigourney Weaver's Ripley only in so far as the amount of physical punishment she endures. While it isn't fair, the movie seems to want to invite a comparison between the two, making Rapace's performance seem more underwhelming than it actually is. If nothing else, she endures the grossest C-Section you've ever seen performed on film. Idris Elba could have been given more to do as the ships captain, but he's memorable in his few big scenes opposite Theron.

You have to wonder how the public would have reacted to this film had they not known it was in any way tied to the Alien franchise or co-written by Lost co-creator Damon Lindelof. Given how some have still inexplicably not gotten over how he ended that series, it's likely many were foaming at the mouth to blame him for any perceived problems with this project. That his script balances issues of faith and science thematically similar to the show's controversial, unfairly maligned finale only gives fans more ammunition to complain, no matter how off-base they are. While the script does definitely lag behind the directing and visual effects, it's only problem is the "been there, done that feel of its premise" and its inability to step out of Alien's shadow despite the film's initial ideas suggesting it could have possibly surpassed it. The jaw-dropping visuals and performances from Fassbender and Theron really stand out as the biggest reasons why it's a success. At the very least, Prometheus is Ridley Scott's best effort in ages and seems more than a worthy of a sequel that can hopefully deviate even more from the original material it's inspired by.

Young Adult

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Charlize Theron, Patton Oswalt, Patrick Wilson, Elizabeth Reaser, Collette Wolfe
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Young Adult is the sneakiest kind of great movie. The type that decides to stay and hang out a while. It doesn't seem like much while I was watching it or even a few hours after, but days later it crept up on me. I saw it a week ago and its been replaying in my head since. The plot can probably be summed up in a single sentence but the layers that can be peeled away from its main character seem endless. It's brave and gutsy, literally basking in its own pessimism since any other approach would just seem dishonest. A lot of viewers are going to have strong opinions about this protagonist who hits close to home in a very disturbing way. If you aren't her or at least possess a few of her less than desirable qualities, chances are you know someone who does. But as pathetic and despicable her behavior is, I can't remember a recent movie character I've felt deeper sympathy for or understood better. What happens with her is just awful and whether you can relate to her or not, there's no question this film ventures to uncomfortable, taboo territory most dramas, much less other dark comedies, refuse to go. Most will probably detest this character, but for me there were points where I wanted to reach through the screen and give her a hug. So it's a good thing the Juno team of director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody won't, remaining true to her cruel, funny, unsentimental journey of emotional self-destruction right up until the closing credits.

For many high school is remembered as worst time of their life. That divorced 37-year-old Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron) is desperately trying to recapture it should give you a good idea how empty her present situation is. The ghost writer of a once popular but now canceled series of young adult novels spends more time in her Minneapolis high rise sleeping, drinking liters of diet coke and watching reality TV than she does writing. She might also be an alcoholic. With the deadline fast approaching on what will be her last book in the series she receives news that her old high school boyfriend Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson) is now married and his wife Beth (Elizabeth Reaser) just had a baby. So with only her small dog Dolce and a mix tape she gets in her Mini Cooper and embarks on a road trip back to her hometown of Mercury, Minnesota to try to break them up. Stopping at nothing to reclaim her man, she runs into former classmate Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt), who who was left permanently disabled by an attack in high school that made national news as a "hate crime" until it was discovered he wasn't actually gay. While he's as stuck in the past as she is, Matt isn't as delusional and seems to be the only one capable of seeing through her and telling it like it is. Even he knows her plan is a bad idea. But that doesn't mean there's anything he can do to stop her from humiliating herself and others.

The movie refuses to romanticize either side of the equation. It instead paints an unrelentingly sad and depressing portrait of failed dreams and small town life. Mavis' obsession with reclaiming her glory days (yes, like the Springsteen song) isn't presented as anything other than pathetically sad. There are no flashbacks presenting an idealized version of the past that would somehow justify her behavior to us. When she returns home to her old bedroom it's untouched since the early '90's. Any music used on the soundtrack from that era aren't obvious nostalgia-baiting choices and the ones that do pop up (like Teenage Fanclub's "The Concept" playing on a continuous loop during her drive) are meant to reflect the her delusion and obsessions more than anything else. Things back home aren't that great either. It would have been easy to show how exciting the locals' lives are so her actions would look worse and the issues would seem black and white. But nothing in this film is easy.

From Mavis' perspective we can kind of see how she'd view Buddy's life as "boring" from the outside looking in. Normal people living normal lives. Buddy never left his hometown, has worked at General Mills for years, married a cool girl who plays drums in a mom band for fun and changes diapers. Certain things are expected of you as you get older and most resemble what he's doing. Cody's script dares to ask why people make that choice and what happens to those who don't. Whether his life's exciting or not or whether she thinks he's happy is far from the point. He's moved on. So has her hometown. She hasn't. As mundane and unfulfilled she may think their lives are, the real problem is her inability to admit it's the life that slipped away. But doing that would mean actually coming to terms with her past instead of defiantly living in it.

Buddy's reaction to Mavis' return is odd and brilliantly ambiguous. We're not sure what he knows, or if he knows anything. Patrick Wilson's become an expert at playing "Mr. Nice Guy" and gets even more practice here. At various points we're not sure if he's pitying her, trying to be friend, completely repulsed, genuinely interested, stringing her along, or walking on eggshells with someone he thinks needs help. It may as well be all of them. Or none of them. The same could be said for his wife's reaction, which isn't one you'd expect considering her husband's old flame has just come charging back to town to steal him. Mavis' only friend and voice of reason turns out to be the kid whose locker was next to hers in high school, but she didn't bother talking to. Patton Oswalt's Matt is a lonely, but refreshingly honest character slightly reminiscent of the more tortured one he played a couple of years  ago in Big Fan. Only when that film's curtain was pulled back, it revealed itself as nothing but a joke with his hapless protagonist serving as the punchline, despite his earnest performance. Here he provides better, even more essential supporting work in a black comedy that doesn't chicken out. While Matt shares certain similarities with Mavis, he possesses a self awareness she lacks and his straight shooting with her is where most of the film's dark humor comes from. He knows what his deal is and thought he accepted it. Her return opens those wounds up, but he's the only person who truly gets what she's going through.

This is a fearless, tour de force performance from Charlize Theron that's not just easily the best of this year, but on par with her 2003 Academy Award-winning performance as serial killer Aileen Wuornos in Monster that Roger Ebert famously called one of the greatest in the history of the cinema. Mavis is a different kind of monster but I think I appreciate Theron's work here even more because there's no physical transformation anyone can point to as an excuse. While ugly on the inside, she does change in and out of so many different outfits and tries out so many different hairstyles that they almost become costumes and masks, with the last being the most symbolic of all. There's a moment when Mavis eagerly waits at the bar for her reunion with Buddy in this low-cut black tank top, it's a credit to Theron that we completely understand why he isn't even tempted. Mavis' self-loathing, desperation and bitchiness pierce through the actress' eyes with every glance and eye roll. She cuts with every intentional or unintentional sarcastic put-down. At one crucial point when Mavis is told she's "better than this" we believe it's true because in even the smallest throwaway moments Theron still subtly hints at the potential lost. She's in bad shape but hasn't hit bottom. At least not yet. After a brief acting hiatus Theron comes roaring back with this and the sad thing is she probably won't even be nominated. Oscar voters can't ever seem to handle it when beautiful actresses take on ugly, challenging characters unless they physically disguise themselves. Otherwise it feels too real. Here's hoping they make an exception because she's nothing short of amazing. 

Add this to the already long list of great writer movies, as this script really nails the painfully funny details. Whether Mavis is staring at the blank page only to opt checking her e-mail or taking her laptop to fast food joints to eavesdrop on conversations, this is the kind of troubled, messed-up, inside-her-own head character that could only be an author. When she writes that a couple has "textual chemistry" you can't help but laugh knowing it's the same too hip and knowing dialogue that Diablo Cody was mercilessly mocked by the media for employing when she penned her Oscar winning script for Juno. When that opened casual moviegoers reacted as if they didn't even know what a screenplay was before and just realized movies are actually written by someone. She had a very specific, unique voice that turned off as many as it impressed. You'd figure that frustration had to weigh on Cody's mind when she created this character, supposedly inspired by all the probing media questions she faced about why a thirty-something woman keeps writing about adolescents. If this is her response it feels like a giant middle finger, this time using the protagonist's perceived coolness and cleverness as a mallet to club audiences. It's the anti-Juno. And for director Jason Reitman this is by a landslide his most compelling  work yet, marking a full turn to the dark side after flirting with edgy satire in Thank You For Smoking and Up in the Air.

It seems every year people like to say a certain film "hits the zeitgeist." The term is so casually thrown around nowadays it may as well mean nothing. But finally here's one that hits it dead center. It feels so timely, targeting our culture's current obsession with nostalgia and convincing ourselves that things were better back when we thought we were better, whenever that was. Like the celebrities we simultaneously despise and idolize, Mavis functions as the mirror in which we view ourselves at our worst and it isn't pretty. But it's honest. Whether we want to admit it or not, there's probably some of her in all of us. It definitely strikes fear in me. Here's a character slightly older than I am, listens to the same type of music I did and went to high school during my era. I always say one of the weirdest things for me is seeing peers from childhood as married parents. And you'd have to not be one to really understand why that's so. This film fully articulates that feeling.
Most go to the movies to escape people like Mavis Gary, not find out what makes them tick. It's almost as if the homewrecking villain in a romantic comedy were made the lead, but given actual motivation and complexity. We expect certain things in films and a likable protagonist is one of them. And if they're not, they at least need to experience growth of some sort. While it might be a stretch to say she achieves none, it sure isn't much. Instead she's given a final act "pep talk" that further feeds her narcissistic delusion. It's clear her road to recovery will be a marathon rather than a sprint, if there's even recovery at all. And yet, that's strangely reassuring. This isn't a coming-of-age story but instead a vicious, bracingly blunt character study that goes for the jugular, creating some cringe-worthy moments that only sting that much more because they feel real. Proof that it's always the darker, riskier movies like Young Adult that cut the deepest, unafraid of going to the brutally honest places misplaced sentimentality too often prevents.

Hancock

Director: Peter Berg
Starring: Will Smith, Charlize Theron, Jason Bateman
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: PG-13

**1/2 (out of ****)

Finally, a movie that presents the notion of what it could mean to be a superhero in the real world a dead serious, straightforward way without once blinking or compromising its vision. Too bad that movie isn't Hancock. We all know the film that did that this year and who directed it. But it makes little difference since Hancock has some good ideas of its own anyway. No, scratch that. It has GREAT ideas and if they were executed to their fullest potential without obvious studio interference and script doctoring I’d be singing its praises. There’s a four-star film stuck inside Hancock struggling to get out and there's a small taste of it during the first hour. It teases us by introducing a character and storyline of uncommon intelligence and potential, then decides to take a giant crap on it in the name of the almighty dollar.

Studio executives know what you want to see and you don’t. You’re not ready for Will Smith in a dark, gritty role. It’ll turn you off and your kids will cry. All necessary measures must be taken to preserve his bankability no matter how much it compromises the artistic integrity of the film, embarrasses the other actors or insults the viewers’ intelligence. As usual, Smith is terrific (as is his two co-stars) but this film has a problem so big even he can’t save it. And director Peter Berg actually isn’t totally to blame for once. Much likes its superhero, the film has an identity crisis and the battle that’s long been brewing between Smith the movie star and Smith the actor comes to a head. It may be time for him to finally make a choice because I’m not so sure how much longer he can have it both ways.

Hancock (Smith) is not your average superhero. He drinks, swears and sleeps on park benches. While he uses his superhuman strength to save lives and put away criminals his drunken, reckless behavior causes millions of dollars in property damage to the city of Los Angeles. Damage he refuses to take responsibility for in a court of law. As crude as his behavior is it’s interesting to note that it stops just short of being crude enough to earn the film an R rating, a designation that would have opened up far more interesting possibilities for the story. Rumor has it the film had twice received an R before being edited to earn a more family friendly PG-13. Unfortunately, you can tell.
With the citizens’ opinion of him at a record low Hancock saves the life of the right person in public relations executive Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman). Ray has a plan to reform Hancock’s image and it’s testament to the script that the plan is smart and the advice he gives him is actually sound. Less approving is Ray’s wife Mary (Charlize Theron) who worries Hancock’s presence in their lives will have a negative influence on their son Aaron (Jae Head). Had the movie continued along this clever and promising route, building on its central conceit, we could have had one of this summer’s more entertaining blockbusters. Instead a chronically wrong-headed decision is made at the halfway mark that not only undermines everything good that came before but turns this into an entirely different and far inferior film.

The marketing machine behind the movie haven’t exactly gone to great lengths to conceal the big twist but I still only had just a vague idea what it was going in. It makes little difference though because I would have been equally furious with it either way. This second half is a complete betrayal, taking all the promising ideas presented and trampling all over them to deliver a crowd- pleasing popcorn movie that’s hardly pleasing in the slightest. It’s poorly written and constructed, bogged down in pointless, complicated mythology that would be funny if it wasn’t so painful. But most frustrating of all is how good the performances are and how hard the two supporting actors try to sell a script that’s trying to humiliate them at every turn.

As the last honest P.R. guy in L.A. the criminally underrated Bateman is given maybe his most interesting big screen character yet and they piss it away like nobody’s business. But it’s Bateman’s Arrested Development co-star and Oscar winner Theron who has to do the heaviest lifting and she really tries her heart out, but there’s just no rescuing writing this absurd. When the movie started I was worried they’d just have her play the neglected wife. That actually would have been far preferable to what they end up doing with her. She’s come so far as an actress that you can’t help but ponder what she was thinking taking such a ridiculous role. It’s like going back to square one.

The first hour shows us that Smith is willing to go to the darker, interesting places this premise calls for but as it progresses it’s obvious the purpose of Vince Gilligan’s screenplay was only to preserve the main star’s drawing power. What a disappointment. Smith’s subtle work as an arrogant, self-loathing superhero deserved a film that was on the same page as him. The finale is a mishmash of My Super Ex-Girlfriend and a high-octane effects laden episode of Berg’s former TV series Chicago Hope. He even scrubs in with a cameo for old times sake.

The main problems with the film aren’t Berg’s fault but he’s yet to find his own voice as a director. As usual, he comes off as a poor man’s Michael Bay shooting everything with music video style slickness and a heavy reliance on steady cam. The CGI here looks cheesy but given the situation it’s supposed to be over-the-top and silly so that’s fine. Laugh all you want but it takes a lot of talent to make films as entertainingly awful and fun as Bay’s. Imposters need not apply.

Berg’s first feature was the critically acclaimed Friday Night Lights, which he later turned into a critically acclaimed (but ratings challenged) TV series. He must really love it a lot because he’s been remaking it ever since. First came The Rundown, which felt like Friday Night Lights in a jungle. More recently he directed The Kingdom, which was essentially Friday Night Lights in Iraq. And now this, which still looks and feels like Friday Night Lights, but this time on the streets of L.A. There’s nothing wrong with sticking with what works and having a specific vision as a director (even if it’s someone else’s), but it should be evolving somewhat…shouldn’t it? What’s saddest is during the film’s first hour there were glimmers of hope that it was going to.

The Hancock script has been in development hell for so long the story behind it is almost legendary. Vincent Ngo originally wrote it on spec in 1996 under the far superior title Tonight, He Comes. Just that title implies a dark, involving character study and basically everything this turned out not to be. It was tossed from producer to producer until Akiva Goldsman (A Beautiful Mind) got his grubby paws on it and co-produced it with Michael Mann. How Mann, who specializes in dark, gritty, intelligent films could be involved with a mess like this is a debate for another time. But I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt that what he started with was far different than the finished product.

Despite its suspect production history and issues with the director I went into this fully expecting to enjoy it. This summer, The Dark Knight proved you can have your cake and eat it too, entertaining the masses while still delivering a story of substance. Something really got screwed up here. Everyone I know saw this but very, very few told me they liked it. Yes, it made a lot of money but it could have made even more with the right approach. Bad word of mouth proved it.

Will Smith recently drew the ire of film enthusiasts with the announcement he’d be starring in a big-budget remake of the beloved cult film Oldboy under the direction of Steven Spielberg. Smith can take solace in the fact that most people are probably so upset about this because of Spielberg’s involvement, not his. Or more accurately, they’re justifiably worried that Spielberg (who hasn’t exactly been on a hot streak lately) will neuter the story to attract the masses, which is exactly what happened here.
Smith has gone far carrying mediocre crowd-pleasing movies like The Pursuit of Happyness and I Am Legend because he’s so talented and likable but it’s time to move to the next level and work with better directors. He’s played safe and comfortable for too long and probably knows it. It’s the producers that need to take a hint. Hancock had all the goods to have been something really special. Instead, it ends up being a public service announcement for studio test screenings.