Beware of all Will Smith manifestations, now and forever. The man’s smile is too quick to appear and always looming, hovering. Smith is too engaging, too eager to charm, too emotional, too funny, too likable, too coddled and way too insulated. He seems incapable of simply “being” because he’s too hungry for affection. He can’t not perform. Such men may not be dangerous in the Shakespearean sense of the term, but you sure as hell can’t trust them.

As Charles Bukwoski once wrote, “Beware of those constantly seeking love and approval from a crowd — they are nothing alone.”

And double-beware any big-name actor who asks a film-series moderator for a hug (as Smith did a couple of days ago with Pete Hammond).

I’ve been in a room with Smith live and in private and he’s like this all the time with everyone, with or without an audience of any size. I’m not saying this indicates Seven Pounds might be a problem, but I’ve been told by a Los Angeles journalist friend who’s been known to occasionally give this and that film a compassionate pass that Seven Pounds is in fact an El Problemo. The word this person used, in fact, is “awful.” A word that another viewer used is “contrived.”