Frost/Nixon/Hancock
Movies mashed: Frost/Nixon, the fictionalized account of David Frost’s seminal interviews with former president Richard Nixon, and Hancock, a film about a cranky, strangely powerful superhero.
Both films feature a larger-than-life character (President/Superhero) who is still fundamentally flawed, and needs to rely on the efforts of their dramatic foil (the softball interviewer, or the unsuccessful PR guy) to redeem his reputation and help him regain his perceived place in the universe.
Of course, one of these movies is a bit more tied down to reality than the other, so it's less free to exploit Hollywood formulas such as the happy ever after ending. Yet, the end of Frost/Nixon feels so much more final than the end of Hancock, which despite being pure fantasy, instead chooses to ignore the implicit “The End” that storybook plotlines urge. In fact, if Hancock had simply cut to the credits five minutes before it did, it would have been a different, and better, movie. Alas, it indulged in the desire to do the happy ending, and the result is that its mistakes are less forgivable than they would have been if they’d have taken the gutsy way out.
Nixon of Frost/Nixon did take the gutsy way out, although he doesn’t realize it until it’s far too late. Nixon is unquestionably the lion to Frost’s sheep, so to see how he deals with the lightweight Brit is fun, especially considering the turnaround we know is coming. Watching the story of the interviews unfold is engaging – more so than you’d expect, considering that we know how it ends. Of course, everyone knew how Titanic ended too, and that didn’t stop them from wasting their dollars.
Actually, it’s possible that many moviegoers today don’t really know how the interviews went. I myself was not old enough to be aware of what was on TV at the time, and certainly I didn’t notice anything that wasn’t Muppet-shaped. Considering the millions of Gen Yers out there who would never had the opportunity to see the Nixon-Watergate debacle unfold in real time, this movie will provide the closest thing to an authentic experience.
And it is authentic. From the hair to the clothes to the cars to the very lighting, Frost/Nixon feels more like unearthed documentary tapes than a glorified remake. Sure, the story takes many cues from the classic underdog vs. titan plotline, and I’m sure that no one spoke quite so sharply and snappily in real life. But by the end, the audience is sucked into the drama without reserve, and the conclusion is satisfying, despite all it leaves in the air.
Hancock is not quite so well executed. The idea is a good one: a decidedly non-heroic superhero (Will Smith) who can barely function as a human being (and questions whether he is one). Basically, Hancock is a dude who is virtually indestructible, who can fly, and can’t remember anything about his past. Not a bad place to start.
Some of the details are old-hat to comic book fans (or even to people who saw The Incredibles); in particular, the notion of citizens suing the hero for damages incurred during his rescues felt tired. But the filmmakers weren’t afraid to make Hancock unlikeable. He’s an alcoholic bastard who swears, breaks things, and never apologizes for anything. To say he’s anti-social is an understatement. So there was a lot of potential to explore the stereotypes of Hero/Villian/Innocent,etc. How many of those superhero clichés are necessary? How far will they bend before they break? Good questions.
Hancock doesn’t answer them. Shortly after setting up this story of the strange, antiheroic Hancock and getting us to care about whether he can become a superhero in spirit as well as body, the movie jerks the rugs out from under the audience’s feet and makes the movie a tragic love story, except that the “twist” can be seen from a mile away and it doesn’t even make a lot of logical sense (I don’t want to give any spoilers, but trust me, it’s lame). Of course, it’s no spoiler to say that any movie with Charlize Theron in the credits will have at LEAST one crying scene.
Even so, the movie still could have redeemed itself by being a gutsy tragic love story. This is where a director’s cut version would improve the movie exponentially. In fact, you can make your own director’s cut: when there’s three minutes left of the movie, turn it off. Do this, and you will have seen a strange, flawed movie that nevertheless ends well and leaves the viewer with some interesting questions to hash out over beers. Do it not, and I cannot help you. The movie you will have seen will have been Hancock, and the only thing you’ll want to say over those beers is “Awww, HELL no!”
Frost/Nixon: 8
Hancock (Director’s Cut): 6
Hancock (actual): 3