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Movie Review: Hancock

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Hancock is a nearly great movie. I suppose that means it was only good, but that obscures the fact that, unlike other good movies, it could have been great.

Will Smith's latest flick tells the story of an alcoholic superhero addled not so much by his addiction to hard liquor, as much as his plunging loneliness. As such, he is a depressed and lonely fuck who believes he is the only one in the world (or at least Los Angeles, where the movie is supposed to take place) who can fly and perform amazing feats.

His psychoses and subsequent boozing manifest themselves in incredibly destructive and fantastically entertaining ways. Near the beginning of the movie, before we've met Hancock, a team of Filipino or Taiwanese thugs who had just ripped off some type of establishment are traveling on an L.A. freeway, tailed by a bevy of LAPD cars and news helicopters. The car chase rages on with a hale of gunfire from the gangsters streaming toward the cops and cars that happen to be driving at the exact same moment the pursuit is happening.