Will Smith is probably Hollywood's most agreeable actor, and that's key, because the audience needs to live with the antisocial Hancock for a good long while before he agrees to a makeover (parents beware, he's also foul-mouthed, and the movie pushes its PG-13 rating).
In a funny wrinkle, Hancock saves the life of a public relations guy (Jason Bateman) who returns the favor by giving Hancock, resented by greater Los Angeles, an overdue image overhaul (Hancock has been read as a tarnished America, in need of re-branding).
Ray Embrey, the always talking, always pitching, softly sarcastic PR guy, is right in Bateman's sweet spot, and his chemistry with Smith - unshakable optimist and grouch - is very good. Sample: Ray reminds Hancock to always congratulate police during a rescue, and forces him to mouth the words "good job." Smith chokes on the phrase, and gets a big laugh.
There's something resonant and familiar about this relationship, too. The movie obviously satirizes superhero mythology, but it's also easy to compare Ray and Hancock to modern-day athlete and agent. In fact, the movie's first half may remind you, as it did me, of "Jerry Maguire," and Jerry's efforts to turn the aggrieved Rod Tidwell into a crowd-pleasing marketable commodity.
"Hancock," alas, has no interest in being a takeoff or update of "Jerry Maguire" or any movie with such a large dollop of sentiment. As you've probably heard, "Hancock" takes a very sharp turn at midpoint toward gory tragedy, a wild change in tone that director Peter Berg can't control.
Berg tries to foreshadow things - we see Charlize Theron, as Ray's wife, shooting Very Significant looks at Hancock and making cryptic remarks that bespeak special knowledge about Hancock's unusual skill set, perhaps his blank past.
