Showing posts with label Will Smith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Will Smith. Show all posts

Monday, June 22, 2009

MMM: To the Sweat Drop Down My...

Psst! Stargazers! I'm not sure if your aware, but July is creepin' up on us. Try not to make any sudden moves or it'll be on you like white on rice!

That may sound silly, but I've been flitting from work to home to movies to graduation parties to concerts to family functions all month never realizing I was fast approaching summer. Realization struck me at HeroesCon this weekend. Summer made her presence known when a short walk from the parking deck to the Charlotte Convention Center (I'm talking less than two minutes) had me drenched in sweat. Seriously, my thighs were slathered in sweat like hot butter on breakfast toast!

Summer's arrival escaped my attention because theaters are mostly full of lackluster blockbusters. Where's Will Smith's big summer spectacle? One of his so-so actioners would fit snuggly betwixt the rest of the current mediocrity. Without a movie to promote, what is Will Smith doing?

The former Fresh Prince could be coaching his son Jaden on how to properly massacre the Karate Kid franchise in the upcoming reboot. Then again, he could be chillin' with his buddy, DJ Jazzy Jeff. I like to imagine that's what he's doing. Come along with me, let's imagine it together:

DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince - Summertime


Summertime's here. Time to sit back and unwind.

Large Association of Movie Blogs

Monday, July 7, 2008

Hancock Explodes Box Office, Implodes Onscreen

HANCOCK

Release: 07.01.2008
Rated PG-13

1 hour, 32 minutes


Second-Run Seats ($$) <
> Matinee ($$$)


Will Smith (I Am Legend) stars as Hancock, a super-powered being sorely in need of an attitude adjustment. After rescuing Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman, Smokin' Aces), "the Bono of public relations", Ray encourages Hancock to turn over a new leaf, to give the public a reason to value his help and not scream bloody murder over his costly messes. Hancock's curmudgeonly ways stem from his belief that he is alone, but he soon learns that he is not as unique as he believed, a revelation that comes with a hefty cost.

Director Peter Berg (The Rundown) takes on a bold project that establishes a superhero property steeped within the confines of reality and not the more traditional lore of DC or Marvel comics. Establishing a history, conflict and redemptive path for the surly Hancock proves to be more of a challenge than Berg and writers Vincent Ngo (Hostage) and Vince Gilligan (TV: The X-Files) could manage. Instead of a display of
grandiose feats, audiences are treated to frenetic camerawork and too-close visuals that explore the actors' nasal passages more so than their emotions and interactions. The story has a similarly jarring effect to that of the shaky lensing. The tale's reckless swelling and ebbing make it difficult to understand or even locate a plot at times, and rushes to wrap up the climax and other key points when time is needed.

Kudos to Smith, Bateman and Charlize Theron (Aeon Flux) for establishing rich characters that rise above the story's chaos. Bateman does the best job to me; yes, I am a fan, but his performance shows why he deserves the praise.

Dirty Undies
The sheer level of devastation and property damage by Hancock is astounding. In this case, the PG-13 rating manages to elevate the violence by cutting away from the conflicts, leaving much to the imagination. Villains thrown from buildings tens of stories high have little chance of survival if you ponder the aftermath of Hancock's actions. Berg couldn't resist visualizing Hancock's favorite threat in the prison, which to me would have been better left to our own imaginations. When Hancock's not performing feats of illogical and stupefying proportions, he's boozing and cursing. The word 'asshole' is spoken by folks of all ages, and to show his rough edges, Hancock even tosses out an abrasive 'fucked' to an enraged crowd.

You can't go wrong with Will Smith as a healthy hunk of man meat, though he doesn't give off that vibe until he gets a trim and a new attitude. Likewise, the statuesque Charlize Theron goes from cute doting housewife to fever-inducing fox with just a touch of dark makeup and tight jumpsuit.

The Money Shot
The saving grace of Hancock was that there was no competition to keep it from setting holiday records despite being a mess of a film. Never quite resting long enough to tell a thoughtful story and never revved up enough to be popcorn-munching adrenaline fluff, it settles into an nauseating, woulda-coulda-shoulda rhythm. Hancock succumbed to its greatest weakness, sacrificing substance over style.

Large Association of Movie Blogs