It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a drunk who can lift cars!…
UPDATE THE SECOND: Apparently I have an insufficient appreciation of what constitutes a spoiler; see comments; that is, if you deign to read this whole post, which I suppose you ought only do if you’ve already seen Hancock or don’t much care about its, um, underlying premise, which I gather is so innovative and wonderful and special that its naming will ruin the movie for anyone who hasn’t seen it. Thanks for playing!
I saw Hancock around pretty much the same time last week as I did Wanted, and I gotta tell you the combination of the two made my head spin. It wasn’t just the summer-blockbuster bombast that did it, either. Between wrapping my head around an ancient “fraternity” of assassins whose targets are chosen via a loom generating digital code on the one hand, and a race of immortal superheroes of antiquity who lose their powers when in close proximity to their destined superhero mates on the other, I had the opportunity to muse, most unprofitably, on the wacky worlds, nay, universes, that these particular films inhabit. It is said by some cultural theorists that comic books constitute a modern mythology. Wanted and Hancock, both the former adapted from a, excuse me, graphic novels, suggest that all the mythmaking has gone mad. [UPDATE THE THIRD: SO it turns out Hancock was not adapted from a graphic novel. It just feels like it was. I am now on record as regretting writing this post, regretting putting it up, regretting having ever started blogging, becoming a movie critic, taking up journalism as a career in the first place. Now, to dinner. Although I don’t deserve to eat.]
I blame Jack Kirby.
Which is weird, because as it happens, like many other persons of taste and discernment, I revere Jack Kirby. His innovative superhero artwork is as close to legal LSD as you can get, and until recently I’ve been potentially bankrupting myself with the purchases of varied anthologies and collected works, which are coming up in an entirely justified bumper crop of late. But still.
Used to be, in comic books, you had the Marvel and DC universes. And that was pretty much that. Over there, Spider Man, Fantastic Four, Hulk, Iron Man, Nick Fury, the Avengers, and so on. Over there, Superman, Batman, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Justice League. Simple. Easy. And for a while of course, there was no contest as to which universe was more, shall we say, with it. Of course things got a little confusing when Neal Adams started working for DC. But it was when Kirby started his whole “Fourth World” extrapolation from the pages of “Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen”—and here I should encourage you to go ahead and spend all your money on this four-volume Kirbython—that a certain variety of disorder was blatantly introduced into a discrete comic-book universe. Kirby’s epic storytelling ambitions, along with his growing artistic cachet and his subsequent frustrations and battles for his rights as an artist all eventually fed in to the evolution of what we call the graphic novel and the Babel of not-quite-competing mythologies that is the graphic novel’s by-product.
Not that anyone cares, really. I just thought it was kind of interesting.
Oh, and what did I think of Hancock generally? I almost walked out after an improbable and extremely distasteful sight gag that speaks to what H.G. Wells once described (apropos James Joyce) as a “cloacal obsession.” I’m glad I didn’t, though, because, aside from that reminder that Peter Berg did, after all, direct Very Bad Things, the movie got more interesting as it got weirder, and then, as is ever the case, got less interesting as it backed away from its weirdness. The weirdness was in the mythology stuff and the relationship engendered by it, which I’m not going to get into in detail lest I spoil. (UPDATE: Apparently, though, this next sentence is a potential spoiler, although I don’t see it. Forewarned, then!) Take all that away, though, and the movie is, of course, basically about the eventual taming of an unruly black man (never mind the “but society’s to blame” sop near the end).
Glenn…SPOILER WARNING? You just ruined the damn ending of the movie!
Huh? How so? The taming theme is part of the movie’s—what do they call it?—through line. I’m not giving away anything that actually, you know, happens. Unless I’m missing something.
Glenn, I just happened to read this interesting piece on Jack Kirby by J. Hoberman in Bookforum:
http://www.bookforum.com/inprint/015_01/2266
Hey Glenn, maybe what needs a SPOILER WARNING is the part at the very top about a race of immortal superheroes who lose their powers in proximity to yadda yadda yadda, huh? Nice work. My curiosity about the twist was the only reason I would have seen this trainwreck, but I guess I can keep my $10 now.
I managed to see both these films yesterday back to back, so I know how you feel. I found “Wanted” to be more egregious, most notably the scene in which James McAvoy breaks the fourth wall and asks me what the fuck I’ve done with my life. Alas.
If you want to hear some really bizarre ranting about the current crop of movies, check out Rex Reed’s review this week of “The Wackness,” in which he actually says that reviewing films has become a chore and, basically, how he hates all the young directors ruining movies today, blah, blah, blah. Apparently, “The Wackness” is no “Smart People.”
Well, DUH, that’s not the whole twist—not by a long shot.
Let me look on the bright side of this mishegas—I’ve apparently saved you some money.
Well, DUH was more pugnacious than I would have liked, but yes, that is a pretty big giveaway. Albeit the marketing materials are spoiler-heavy as well.
I’ve heard about this taming theme and once I see the movie I’ll obviously have an opinion on it. But definitely some of what I’ve seen is racial wank, which is distasteful on a lot of levels, but the most obvious is, Jesus, people, he chose to make this movie. The usual problems with being a black actor in Hollywood simply do not apply when you are the biggest movie star in the entire world.
Some of you are babies. YOU RUINED MY TWIST! If you frequent movie sites and even have a skoash of grey matter you should’ve figured out what this turd smelled like before Glenn shoved it under your nose. What, you figured Charlize Theron was in the movie but they weren’t marketing her because SHE HAS A MINOR ROLE? That she was CUT OUT OF THE PICTURE?
Take the audience for a ride
They ain’t never been satisfied
Think they owe you some kind of debt
It’ll take years before they get over it
And which one of your turkeys help make that new Coldplay album the most downloaded bowl of die-uh-rhea in the history of mankind? WAS IT YOU? OR YOU? You want to feel inspired, you say? Read the Bible. You need something relaxing to listen to while you’re taking your Sunday drive? Slap on The Dan’s Gaucho.
Richard Meltzer must be spinning in his grave and he’s not even dead yet.
My apologies for the pugnacity but my thanks for the savings of $10.
As for PL’s Ghost, look: I frequent movie sites like this because I enjoy good movies and I enjoy good writing about them; I don’t usually come here expecting Ain’t It Cool News-type info. There are few pleasures to be had in a pile of crap like Hancock except for air-conditioning and whatever stupid twists they’re hiding. I don’t have a whole ton of movie-viewing options if I want to go to a theater where I am, so I was trying to preserve whatever meager surprises this thing had for me. Just cuz I’m keeping my eyes closed on purpose doesn’t mean I can’t tell the difference between Hancock and Metropolis (or Coldplay and Pere Ubu, for that matter).
Also, Wanted is the biggest pile of shit I’ve smelled all year.
There is no pleasure to be found in anything Will Smith does and if you don’t know that already then you deserve to have your Sweet Sugary Twist knocked to the ground and stepped on. And stop frequenting the theatres; there’s nothing there for you but a bunch of teddygraus clearing their throats and eating popcorn and laughing like a kennel-full of Pavlov’s dog. Just in case you didn’t know: when you go to see a Will Smith movie, and he starts talking like a jive-ass, that’s when you are supposed to laugh. Because the only thing funnier than a white man doing an impersonation of a black man is a black man doing an impersonation of a black man. I’m just trying to help, Duh, so along those lines, if you think there’s a difference between Coldplay and that crap band Crocus foisted upon the God-forsaken masses, then I have some Lake Eerie beach-front real estate I’d like to sell you for cheap, along with my mint Electric Eels and Mirror LP’s that I don’t need anymore since my wife convinced me that George Strait is the greatest singer-songriter since Christopher Cross. Ride the wind, motherfucker.
Hey, if Peter Laugher could do shit that he knew was real bad for him, who are you to tell me to lay off crappy movies, huh? We’ve each got our own anesthetics. So here’s my deal: if you let me enjoy watching the gears of the culture industry grind on, I’ll ignore the dicey racial politics of your post and the labored retro-hipsterisms of your online persona. How’s that sound?
Oooh. Okay, Mr. Nastypants. I didn’t know I sounded so labored. What, you can hear my heavy breathing? And the only type of person who would find what I wrote racially dicey is someone who drives around with a rope and a ladder in the trunk of their car. Have fun spending your hard earned cash at Meet Dave. When you get back drop me line because I want to spend some more time with you. You sound like a really great guy.
OK fellas, simmer down. Don’t make me come in there…
I take exception to your implication that I would see Meet Dave. There are some lines that I will not cross.
Don’t over estimate yourself, Duh. Anyone who would pay to see Wanted is capable of many things, like running over a child because their tacos are getting cold. You strike me as that type of person. You also strike me as the type of person who would like to come over to my house and watch my repair my Rusty Brown lunchbox. Retro-hipster? You have no fucking idea.
Actually, tacos sound pretty good right now, so I think I’ll head out and get some. But congrats on deploying a reference that I had to google.
The only hope for the Hollywood blockbuster is if one of these horrible pieces of corporate crap belly-ups Last Action Hero-style at the box office. Fingers crossed Avatar heralds the return of intelligence and filmmaking skill to the blockbuster. James Cameron, where have you been?!
(Can you believe Peter Berg is going to direct Dune?)
Since when did all the trolls start coming here? Are things slow at the AV Club?
Go fuck yourself, Vadim.
GUYS!!!!
What am I gonna do with you? I mean, it isn’t even the hottest day of the year yet.
I think I need to calm stuff down. Another post about Nazi collaborators ought to do the trick. Or not…
Yes, blame Kirby! As the sad little kid who grew up with DC Comics (and picked on by the Marvel-loving kids, despite my professed love for the Silver Surfer), even I’m growing weary with all the comic-book adaptations/inspirations made or planned. I realize comic books and graphic novels provide ample source material to move away from adapting old TV shows, but is the public clamouring for films based on Ant Man or Green Arrow (who is great, thanks to Neal Adams)? Aw, maybe I should just go buy those Kirby omnibi and shut up.
Oh c’mon. That’s not even the most offensive thing I’ve posted this week.
(RE: Jason:
is the public clamouring for films based on Ant Man or Green Arrow?)
I keep hearing jokes about how they’re making a movie about Ant-Man, but it’s basically the only superhero movie I’m looking forward to , It’d be great to see what Edgar Wright could do with the material.
i agree with bill.
vadim should go fuck more.
Just FYI: Hancock was not based on a graphic novel or comic. The film began its life as a spec screenplay by Vincent Ngo titled, “Tonight, He Comes.” It was very dark in tone and not comedic at all. The script bounced around town for almost a decade before it got rewritten and filmed.
Correction above. I think my point almost still holds. Though I think we can all agree that in the end it probably wasn’t worth making.
@Mark
Unfortunately, it’s probably going to be “Avatar” that’s going to be the wake-up call. The more I think on it the more, honestly, it fills me with dread. That bastard’s got the potential to be the next “Cleopatra”.
Glenn, I finally saw the movie, so was finally able to read this post and so I feel I can safely say this, on the last line:
SHAME ON YOU.
Seriously, I’m really disappointed that you jumped to this conclusion based on nothing more than Will Smith’s skin color. This was not a role written specifically for a black man, which is abundantly obvious in the course of the film (the film, like all of Smith’s blockbusters, makes no hay of his race). Anybody who wants to argue otherwise, although it’s way too late, I’ll be happy to hear from them, but, seriously, folks, reading “the taming of the black man” into this movie says nothing about the film, just something about you.
No, there isn’t much “hay” made of Hancock’s race—there doesn’t need to be. And beyond that, the picture is hardly race-neutral—witness its gratuitous race-baiting humor aimed at Hispanic and French characters, not to mention the backstory that explains Hancock’s amnesia. I’m not saying the film is a virulently racist piece in the mode of “Birth of a Nation’—as it happens, the picture’s perspective is entirely liberal, as it WANTS Hancock to function and be useful within society—but the subtext is certainly there.
My standard on it is A) was the role written specifically for an actor of that ethnicity and B) if so, why is that required? I just don’t see that in Hancock. Even the French kid is, well, just kind of random; it’s not like the movie knows or cares anywhere other than New York or LA exists.
I don’t mean to be obnoxious, I just dislike specific movies catching fallout for industry problems, which is what I view as the problem here.