Recently, I read an article where Will Smith was bragging (yet again) at this geniusey formula him and his Hollywood "people" discovered to guarantee a box office smash. They all sat around smoking cigars devised some sort of mathematical statistical matrix (cough obvious) of what makes a megahit flick. They took the top ten movies of all time and broke them down to numbers. 39.8% special effects. 31.3% love story. 20.0% cute kid. 25.4% action. 11.2% humor. Whatever. Then they plug those numbers into a project and bingo! Hit movie! Will definitely takes pride in this patented method of deciding on what produces a smash! Way to go Will!

First off, Will. It's time to stop with your bullshit bragging about this bullshit. Keep that to yourself. You look like an arrogant corporate tool. And second, go back and check your math because this movie sucks so bad I feel like I have to take a shower because I suspect I physically reek from being in the theater with this ploppy poopy plop. You should have called it Hand-cock (ooh burrrn!) because that's what must have been going when you and your Hollywood coke fiend leech buddies plugged your 'secret' formula into a script that should be stamped with the letter F on every friggin page-- And decided to make it anyway. Bragging about your formula with this movie makes you look like the kid in class who raises his hand for every question and shouts out "Bismarck!!!" Every time.

Sure, this movie started off ok-ish. Barely. Concept-wise. Sort of. In a way. I guess I can give you that. But as soon as Hancock left the ground the terribleness started and it simply didn't stop. First off, it was visually cheap. The first scene looks like it was made back in 1983. Superman III fake. There's better special effects in video games now. And it plunged head first into stoopid and chucked any reality out the window first stop. Then Jason Baitmen (who is starting to overstay his re-welcome too) shows up in a stupid scene (car stuck on the traintracks? really?) and he drags along Charlize Therman (didn't she win an Oscar a few years ago? now it seems she's picking up roles that Keri Russell is passing on...) Then things went from whatever bad to worser bad to stunningly bad. (By the way, in your formula is it 65% closeups of your face?)

After this movie announced it planned to be terrible, I settled back in my mental chaise lounge with my imaginary umbrella drink trying to get comfortable enough to yawn through mess-- when the whole thing made this loud ominous groany noise. Like giant metal ship straining under pressure. (WTF was that?!) I sat up straight and gripped the armrests-- concerned that what I was involved with was about to get much much worse. I listened again. False alarm? Everything was quiet for a sec. Then another (even louder) metallic groan moaned like fog horn and it was followed by 'Boinggg!' and a smash sound like something important just snapped and flew off the important thing and into some other important thing smashing that too! And I was like, 'OMG! Is this whole thing friggin coming apart!?!?!' I couldn't believe it! I flipped over my ticket in a panic to find out what their liability was.

Pieces of plot started sliding off this movie because they were never strapped down in the first place. And there were no lifeboats to in sight! Then the giant floater shifted hard to port and things like 'Funny' and 'Exciting' and 'Logic' slid right off the deck, splashing into the water and sinking straight to the bottom. I was like, 'Will! The formula! This isn't the formula! For goddsake somebody grab the wheel! The Key Grip! Best Boy! Anybody?' Then the whole thing flopped hard to starboard and I loss my footing and slammed up against the railing. I shut my eyes in pain. Hands over my ears as this ship picked up speed and got much louder. Like smoke was filling the engine room but it was running fullspeed anyway! And just when I thought I couldn't take another minute of it, I felt a strong reassuring hand on my shoulder. I took my hands off my ears and opened my eyes... It was Will! Will Smith! In the flesh!

The ship was foundering badly at this point. And rumbling like it was gonna explode. A smokesstack and smashed down all over the Lido deck but Will looked serene. I screamed, 'Will! What the hell is going on!!' He just smiled and said 'Having fun, my man?' I stared at him in disbelief. I shouted back, 'No Will! Zero percent, Will! Zero percent!!!' He nodded knowingly and said, 'That's right, man. Our formula doesn't leave one extra percentage to spare. Not one, baby! It's all on us. We got it down to the decimal this time!' He looked relieved. And then he walked off actually patting himself on the back and mumbling something about being the best... as I struggled with a lifejacket that was way too small...

Three Good Things About this Movie

- I did appreciate the concept in theory.
- I did laugh maybe three or four times out loud.
- It does try to maintain a level of entertainment regardless.

Three Bad Things About this Movie

- Some of it made no sense at all. And the music was inappropriate throughout.
- It couldn't decid what it wanted to be so it ended up uncomfortably neither nor.
- When Jason Baitmen was trying to explain what kind of super hero Hancock should be-- he showed Hancock a super hero comic book as an example.
The actual name of the comic book super hero on the cover? "Super Hero" I kid you not... And the art was terrible.

All in all, maybe I'm harshing a little on this movie as it did hold my attention from a train wreck point of view. And it had a certain relentless attempt at charm. But messing up a concept like this is like a basketball player driving in for an easy lay-up to win the game and he not only misses the shot but chokes and hucks the ball like a baseball pitcher into the stands directly into some old lady's face. Smashing her nose. Followed up with the player urinating in his own jockstrap in a panic. Followed up by all the players urinating in their jockstraps in solidarity. Followed up by a farty monkey coming out of nowhere who doesn't know how to ride a unicycle-- desperately attempting to ride a unicycle... and farting. Followed up by an air-raid siren going off. And the sprinkler system shooting off. And wild mutant wolfdogs coming into the arena and attacking the concession stands. Followed up by the whole roof being ripped off the place by a giant scuzz monster who uses the whole place as a toilet bowl dropping burny slimy green doody all over everyone. And then the bad part comes.

It's like, 'Dude... Couldn't you just have hit the lay-up? Jeez louise! How long you been playing this game?'

It's time for a new calculator, douche.