Watching the recent DVD release of last summer’s Will Smith supposed blockbuster, Hancock, one can’t help but wonder when the public will finally tire of his mediocre fare.  It’s not so much that the movie is unwatchable; it’s more a giant case of “why bother?” Chock full of special effects — barely the only thing going for it — at just over 90 minutes, it wins this week’s title of “Crap-in-a-Box.”  As you stroll down the aisles of New Releases at your local Blockbuster or look to fill your docket on your Netflix account, do yourself a favor and avoid this dud.

The premise is simple enough: Smith plays a lazy deadbeat, mysteriously imbued with superpowers. Though we never delve much deeper into how he has these powers, where he got them, or what their limitations are, Smith’s character seems to do more harm than good as he trashes half the city of Los Angeles whenever he tries to help somebody.

Enter Jason Bateman, doing an admirable job of playing a down-on-his-luck publicist, whom Smith’s character saves in a gratuitous special effects-laden train wreck routine.  The two become friends, for some odd reason, as Bateman takes charge to change his image.  What happens next is about as predictable as a Bad News Bear movie.  Yeah, they’re gonna win the big game.

Charlize Theron is oddly cast as Bateman’s wife, looking about as comfortable as Jodi Foster in Maverick. Even director Peter Berg, responsible for the acclaimed Friday Night Lights, does little here to give the movie something to sink your teeth into.

Not that the premise of a reluctant hero isn’t fraught with potential — it’s simply never explored here. One of the cleverest moments in the film is when Smith’s character is in prison (which makes no sense, given his abilities) and is about to get into a fight with a couple inmates.  Smith threatens to shove one inmate’s head up the other’s ass.  A beat later, he proceeds to do exactly that, as the audience is treated to a visual that’ll make you clench.

Coming off of last year’s self-indulgent apocalyptic disaster movie, I Am Legend, and the schmaltzy Pursuit of Happyness the year before, one wonders who’s picking Smith’s movies.  Apparently there’s more than one with their head up their ass.

Clearly affable enough and capable of roles far more challenging, Hancock plays out as the ultimate disappointment: A half-baked idea thrown together with millions of dollars.  The end result is still an expensive piece of crap.

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