If there's one enduring criticism that's hounded Will Smith during his 25-year acting career, it's that he always plays a slightly different version of the same guy. You know him well. He's a highly likable, fast-talking wiseass who, depending on the time period, is either wearing a multi-colored silk shirt or a well-tailored suit. In other words, he's Will Smith. 

It started with his first role, a character aptly named Will Smith. The fictional Smith who moved in with his auntie and uncle in Bel-Air wasn't based entirely on the real Smith, but he was damn close. And that was no accident. Before landing the show, Smith was a squeaky-clean rapper whose playful songs and goofball personality let NBC align itself with hip-hop's growing popularity without scaring the the white people who watched primetime TV. As The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air co-producer Benny Medina told The New York Times in 1990, "Will is not threatening." But if his marketability made it natural to base the character on him, Smith's lack of acting experience made it necessary. In that same 1990 Times article, Smith admitted that playing the role was "pretty easy, and not just because I'm basically playing myself."

Wisely, Smith, who is Esquire's cover star this month, stuck to that formula, using different versions of himself (Cowboy Will Smith in Wild Wild West, Superhero Will Smith in Hancock) to rack up the kind of paydays that'll buy you a two-story movie trailer. 

But in no film has he put being Will Smith to better use than Hitch, his most watchable, and more importantly, re-watchable movie. Somehow, though, Hitch, in which Smith plays date doctor to a series of New York City dweebs and eventually finds love himself, never got its due. Despite a $368 million box-office take, there was no sequel. That's as hard to believe as Kevin James landing Amber Valletta. Rather than launching the career of screenwriter Kevin Bisch (Hitch is his first IMDb credit), the movie seemed to end it (Hitch is his last IMDb credit). Director Andy Tennant has only directed two features since, Fool's Gold and The Bounty Hunter, both critically savaged rom-coms that managed to make decent money. It took James four more years to land a lead role, Valletta basically disappeared from the face of the earth, and Eva Mendes made two movies with Nic Cage in the following five years.

But now, a decade after it hit theaters, Hitch might finally be getting the second look it deserves. These days, the movie's on TBS every other day, Fox is adapting it for TV, and dedicated superfans Joe Mande and Aziz Ansari are doing everything they can to bring it back into the zeitgeist, squeezing two mentions of a sequel into the final season of Parks and Recreation, which takes place in 2017. Then there's Focus, Will Smith's latest movie, which has him playing a character so much like Hitch that the running blog joke is that it's the sequel.

Apparently, fans have actually made that mistake. And they were probably devastated when they learned the truth, because Hitch is an undeniable pleasure that succeeds where most rom-coms fail. For starters, it's actually funny, thanks to a series of slapstick set pieces that are dumb, yes, but not cartoonishly so. The best involve Smith's face blowing up to the size of a honeydew after an allergic reaction and James's embarrassing, white-guy dance moves. Just as importantly, Hitch avoids a common rom-com pitfall and refuses to turn into a saccharine ball of lovey-dovey mush. Yes, there are some truly grating lines ("Life is not the amount of breaths you take, it's the moments that take your breath away"), but the couples spend time having fun with each other as they fall in love, not canoodling on porch swings. There's one scene that teeters on the edge of sap as Hitch surprises Mendes's character on Ellis Island by showing her an ancestor's signature in a log book. The music soars. "How sweet!" the audience is supposed to think. But before it gets cloying there's a record scratch. The ancestor was a serial killer and Mendes storms away crying. 

Even with all that going for it, Hitch would be another unforgettable rom-com were it not for the easy chemistry of the cast. Smith is the star, of course, with his smooth delivery and effortless cool. His innate charm isn't a part of his character, it is the character. He's all wry smiles and quick wit. There's even a nerdy flashback that makes him relatable. James, a milquetoast paper pusher when we first meet him, becomes a dorky Humphrey Bogart after loosening up. And Mendes serves the dual role of Smith's love interest and stand-in for the audience, calling him on his bullshit and rolling her eyes at his gooey, date-doctor claptrap. Sure, she eventually falls for it, but so do we. 

In the 10 years since Hitch came out, Smith hasn't even approached another romantic comedy, a genre that, unlike his most recent movies, wouldn't distract from his charisma with superfluous plot. It's such a shame. Imagine Michael Jackson making Off the Wall and following it up with a decade of bluegrass albums. That's what Smith is doing. At least as we wait for him to correct that, we'll have Hitch. And you don't even have to wait for it to come on TBS. It's streaming on Netflix right now.

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