Dude, I KNOW. He's like, the whitest white guy in whiteville. And yet he's totally the vessal for Hancock's self-actualization. In fact, it's his very mystical whiteness, one might argue, which allows Hancock to self-actualize.

I was really worried at first there -- like, just what the world needs to see, a flying black man holding a bottle of malt liquor. But things got infinitely weirder and deeper.

I was so happy at the end when they acknowledged that Hancock was basically lynched. I was kind of expecting them to ignore his (perceived) race, since it had kind of been this unspoken subtext throughout the movie - something all the characters had carefully avoided mentioning. And then, Boom!

Overall, it was a fascinating mess of a movie. I can't believe it even got made, and that it came out as good as it did.