By Brian Marder
Story
Ignacio (
Jack Black) has never been particularly adept at anything, but he has great passion for the things that matter to him: cooking and wrestling. Growing up in a Mexican orphanage, ‘Nacho’ always dreamt of becoming a “luchador”--the term for a Mexican wrestler--and he even had the paunch to boot, but alas it was highly forbidden by the religious orphanage. Now grown up, he works as a chef for the only home he has ever known. He’s subjected to constant criticism at the hands of monks for the slop he calls food, but claims he isn’t paid enough for quality ingredients. So as he sees it, his only solution for more money is to pursue the forbidden fruit of becoming a luchador. He picks up a rail-thin peasant (
Hector Jimenez) along the way to form a tag-team duo. Together, they’re so horrendous that fans line up just for a laugh. But that makes them underdogs, and we all know the fate of underdog characters in movies.
Acting
Jack Black, maybe the best comedic actor of his extraordinarily gifted generation, is a sight to behold. In
Nacho Libre, his mere pose, which invariably sees him showcasing his belly as if a trophy, is enough to arouse laughter. But once he opens his mouth, forget it! Nacho’s broken English-and-Spanish dialect is tailor-made for
Black, as is his character’s penchant to break into Tenacious D-style song to profess his love for a nun (
Ana de la Reguera). The problems with
Black are due to his improper utilization at times (see “direction”), not his performance, which is about as flawlessly inane as verbal/physical comedy gets. He taps into mania with an ease that hasn’t been seen since
John Belushi. As Nacho’s equally hopeless sidekick Esqueleto,
Jimenez garners his fair share of laughs thanks mostly to the wrestling scenes. But his high-pitched yelps, forced ineptitude and blank expressions grow old quickly.
Direction
Director
Jared Hess should’ve quit after his first feature,
Napoleon Dynamite. Only because expectations for his follow-up, in this case
Libre, simply cannot be met. That said, he doesn’t
only make sophomore mistakes; there is promise and talent on full display here. For instance, Hess again exhibits an ability to find and/or create the most outlandish characters, from the star all the way down to the unknown Mexican extras. But even at just over 90 minutes long, the film drags and seems like a hilarious skit stretched way too far. That’s because although conceptually hilarious, the story (which
Hess co-wrote with wife Jerusha and veteran Mike White) is as thin as Nacho is portly. And, as
Hess has learned the hard way, with bigger budgets come bigger constraints, such as not-so-subtle humor (fart jokes, pratfalls) to appease the teen masses.
Hess’ fatal flaw, however, despite what will again be an underrated offbeat effort, was to not stray further from his trademark movie, thus keeping the animal that is
Black caged--albeit in a large cage.