After all the superheroes of all the summers, the possibility of a filmmaker coming up with a new twist on the concept seems highly unlikely. Quartets of disaffected teenagers, mutants with attitudes, angst-ridden adolescents, a playboy millionaire in tights and a cape, and the grand original, a man of steel posing as our old friend, the mild-mannered reporter, parade across the screen, entertaining millions, convincing nobody, and spawning a score of imitators. Now a new movie, "Hancock," named after its protagonist, demonstrates that yet another imitation can attain at least a degree of originality, if not any particular excellence.

Inhabiting no underground lair equipped with the latest in gadgets and vehicles, retreating to no fortress of solitude in the Arctic, not even regularly or honestly employed, Hancock (Will Smith) dresses in wino haute couture, sleeps on public benches, drinks like a thirsty camel, and bristles with a powerful misanthropy. Instead of uttering noble sentiments about truth, justice, and the American way, he enriches his conversation with lyrical obscenities. Reluctant to use his inexplicable powers - superhuman strength and the ability to fly - he feels no particular antipathy to bad guys nor any compelling reason to help innocent victims.

Most unusually, though not surprisingly, Hancock also generates a good deal of hostility in both law enforcement and the public at large. Unlike his cinematic cousins, who are never called to account for their collateral damage, when he actually uses his super powers, he also manages to leave an enormous amount of destruction in his wake. He breaks up roads with the force of his takeoffs, derails a train in order to save a man stuck on the tracks, crushing a dozen vehicles in the process, impales an SUV full of felons on a skyscraper steeple, punishes certain criminals in a shockingly crude but appropriate fashion, and so on.

When he rescues an idealistic public relations expert, Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman), from that train wreck, Hancock's life - and the picture's spirit - undergoes a radical transformation. Ray convinces Hancock to repair his image by holding the inevitable press conference to acknowledge his violations of the law, enter a program for alcoholism and anger management, and accept a prison sentence. Ray even persuades him to wear an appropriate superhero costume, just the sort of slick, tight-fitting outfit that the public expects and the superheroes' union demands.

The significant shift in theme occurs when a curious relationship develops between Hancock and Embrey's wife, Mary, who inadvertently reveals that she herself possesses super powers even greater than his. She and Hancock, the last of their breed, were once, decades ago, man and wife (these superheroes never age), which raises all sorts of threatening concepts that never reach anything like fruition in the film. She also informs him, among all the information they cover in their clumsy exposition, that they must stay apart, since their powers diminish with propinquity; Hancock learns that truth the hard way when a couple of robbers shoot him and he almost dies.

Whatever else it accomplishes, "Hancock" certainly departs from tradition in a number of ways, not least in the character of its protagonist. The notion of a surly, truculent, alcoholic hero whose powers cause as much trouble as they solve breaks some new ground amid the well plowed fields of the familiar genre; the much more ambiguous concepts of an interracial relationship, sexuality, bigamy, and deception seem far more revolutionary, but never really develop beyond their initial establishment. While their history generates some emotion, when Mary and Hancock solve their mutual difficulty, they actually resolve nothing, and the picture ends with the usual sentimentality and false piety.

The movie remains true to other conventions of its form, including the usual shallow, adolescent emotional depth and a generally superficial characterization. Will Smith packs a lot of laughs into his role, also a departure from the usual solemnity of the superhero flick, and remains fun to watch in almost every circumstance. Given a bland, uninteresting, and totally unconvincing part, Charlize Theron at least looks very pretty. The special effects, like the hero himself, seem more funny than spectacular, which may be the best one can say about "Hancock." 

Hancock

(PG-13), directed by Peter Berg

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