“8 Mile” (Universal) is a slickly directed film, one that has an obvious ambition behind it other than to tell the loose story behind Eminem’s life and times. Director Curtis Hanson (“L.A. Confidential,” “Wonder Boys”) has demonstrated his talent here again, with an able wit to tell a story that stays within its restrictions.

Hanson appears to bring a sort of nuanced class to the film — people (like myself) who are not fans of Eminem’s music or his persona should find something to like about the film. The freestyle rap scenes hold an electric energy, eliciting the undercurrents that do not come fully alive during the film through dialogue.

Having said this, what a crushing disappointment the rest of the film is. It’s rather surprising how much praise Eminem received for his role as Jimmy “Rabbit” Smith. One cannot ignore the stipulation that Eminem is playing someone just like himself, because after all, the film is based on his life.

This sparks criticism that the film is just another outreach to the viewing public about Eminem and the fact that he seemingly cannot get over himself. He seems to think he has had it worse than everyone else in America, and he definitely doesn’t want us to forget it. This isn’t a role that was written for him, but in fact is him. Therefore, what acting does he display?

The script is poorly written, predictable, and has no structure, where lines of shallow depth and equal cheesiness are bridged together by scenes of humor, sex or violence. The gritty sex scene between Rabbit and his girlfriend, Alex (Brittany Murphy) is pointless and without need (the same could be said for the gratuitously shameless scene in “Monster’s Ball”), where one could have gotten the point when they started to go off to some secret hiding place.

The story is also crushed by the supporting players that surround Rabbit, who cannot act and are nothing more than your stereotypical gang of hoodlums. Perhaps no better of example is Future (Mekhi Phifer), a dread-locked, potty-mouthed African-American who speaks in song lyrics capped by ‘yo,’ ‘dog’ or ‘bitch.’

This stereotype worked a few years back with Warren Beatty’s “Bulworth,” a biting satire that poked fun at the negative image perceived by the public about urban African-Americans in their 20s. The characters in both films are more than what they seem to aspire to, though “8 Mile” seems to exploit it rather than make a social comment about it.

The DVD features for this film are quite scarce, which is a near-trademark for any Hanson-directed film. It lacks a commentary track, which would be interesting — perhaps the viewers could hear Eminem bitch about more things that went wrong with his life. Curtis Hanson’s insight may have explained why he chose this project — was it because he knew it would make money, much unlike his previous effort, “Wonder Boys,” which grossed under $20 million?

The DVD has a promotional “making-of” documentary, which is typical studio press-packet fare. This documentary is nothing more than a few sound bites from the cast and crew and a few clips from the film to back it up. Equally standard DVD insertions are production notes, cast and crew information and a theatrical trailer.

The most interesting feature is an improvisational freestyle rap battle documentary, where Hanson and his creative force chose from about 150 people as to who would battle Eminem in extra footage of the film. It’s the best feature of the film, so naturally, it’s the best feature of the disc.

“8 Mile” is a displeasing film that excels solely on its skilled direction and intense rap sequences. The trouble with this is that the movie is nearly over when we finally hear Eminem spew his rhymes. A character that wants to succeed by expelling insults is kind of a downer in the first place.

“8 Mile” may not be a title reference to the trailer park of Eminem’s humble abode, but rather the distance one can walk throughout the duration of the film.