Bruce Banner (Eric Bana) is a seemingly normal man who, on occasion, gains incredible strength, flies into a rage, loses higher brain function, turns green and ends up face down in shredded clothes remembering little to nothing about the whole affair. Ostensibly, this is caused by a combination of altered genes, gamma radiation and a loss of emotional control. I have a shorter word for it: "tequila."
"The Hulk" is directed by Ang Lee, which demonstrates that even respected directors like a big fat limousine stuffed full of cash once in a while. Lee amuses himself mightily with his generous budget, playing with all sorts of tricks such as split screens, wacky scene transitions and shots textured with unnecessary computer effects. The whole thing plays like a PowerPoint presentation.
Bruce tries to cope with his condition with the help of fellow scientist and love interest Betty Ross (Jennifer Connelly), but soon every weasel in the military industrial complex is out to kill him. Or clone him. Or incarcerate him so lonely women can write to him in prison.
The real obstacle Bruce must overcome, however, is coming to terms with his childhood, specifically his dad, mad scientist David Banner (Nick Nolte). Lee, respected director that he is, brings us "Hulk as metaphor." The Hulk represents repressed emotions unleashed. If the generals really wanted to stop him, they'd assault him with talk therapy and a Zoloft milkshake.
"The Hulk" is not just crap -- it's green crap, and if that's not a bad sign, I don't know what is.
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