The brow is back. That's the best news any Jack Black fan could hope for. With "Nacho Libre," the rubber-faced roly-poly comic gets back to the basics of what make him one of today's great movie funnymen.
As the title character, Black hams it up. He bounces. He scowls. He sings. And he never shares the frame with a big animated monkey.
All of which combine to make this PG-rated farce, from the guy who wrote "School of Rock" and the director of "Napoleon Dynamite," THE comedy of the summer.
In Mexico, Ignacio (Black) is a half-Lutheran cook at a Catholic orphanage. The monks give him no respect. And the new and too-cute novice nun (Ana de la Reguera) barely notices him.
If only he could be somebody. If only he could become his childhood dream, a luchadore. Lucha Libre is the vampy Mexican version of pro wrestling. Masked men in tights, all sporting larger-than-life personas (Rey Misterioso, El Pandita and El Mimo among them) brawl, strut, pose and, of course, grab folding chairs.
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A chance fight with a beggar (Hector Jimenez, a hoot) over some day-old nacho chips intended for the orphans gives Ignacio his inspiration. With the skinny El Esqueleto (The Skeleton) as his partner, Ignacio will become Nacho Libre. They will take to the ring for fame and fortune.
"I yam the GATE-keeper of my own DESTINY," he proclaims, in Black's best Mexican accent. Which isn't very good, but is amusing.
What follows is a formula-bending formulaic fail-through-the-ranks "big game/big fight/big match" sports comedy. "Napoleon Dynamite" director Jared Hess brings his squeaky-clean eccentricity to screenwriter Mike White's Black-friendly wackiness. The movie that comes out of that is oddly reverent, faintly patronizing (they shot it in Mexico, with an exceptionally homely cast of extras), and always warm and funny.
But script be darned, it's Black's show. From his first moment, eating beans and choking-snorting them out his nose, he is a stitch. He does his best shtick right into the camera, striking mock macho poses, over-emoting as a mariachi singer, and torturing the cliched Hollywood "Mexican" accent.
"Jew like to serve the Lord, too?" he asks Sister Encarnacion. "And poopies?"
Who doesn't like poopies? Um, puppies?
The orphans start imitating wrestlers, never a good idea.
"Bot seester," he whines. "They are just ninos trying to release their wiggles."
Funny stuff. Almost as funny as the actual wrestling, which is no-holds-barred hilarious.
Yes, it's formula, on almost every level. But if Black knows what's good for him, he'll never deviate far from it. Cast him with ninos. Let him sing. Put him in tights, to show off that Belushi-buff bod.
And leave the camera rolling. Because the opera isn't over until the portly man scowls.