Black and White and Jared all over

If you are familiar with my reviews, you know I'm a huge Mike White fan and you also know that Jared Hess' Napoleon Dynamite is aces in my book. And it's no news to anyone on the planet that Jack Black ain't no slouch either. Put them all together, throw in some adorable orphans, a career-confused monk, a sexy nun, some funny face masks, a wrestling ring or two, some stretchy pants and the country of Mexico, and you've got Nacho Libre.

This is one of those movies, like Napoleon Dynamite, that you either get or you don't. You either buy into the offbeat-ness of the premise, the skewed-ness of the characters and the thoroughly charming and subversively sure-footed execution thereof, or you don't. While this film is a bit more mainstream than ND, and Jon Heder (whose characterization elevated that film to near-mythic status) is nowhere to be seen, Nacho Libre still manages to succeed on its own terms, bent and twisted - but always good-hearted - as they are.

The thing I loved the most about the film is its originality. Not the plot per se, which is yer basic 'let's put on a show and save the (fill in the blank)'. Rather, it's the way the plot is executed that makes this such a special affair.

Of course I could not imagine for a second that Jack Black was Mexican (or even half Mexican and half Scandanavian), but that's not really the point, I decided by the end of the film (great closing credits, by the way, with that song that Black sings, the one he wrote with Hess and White - really funny lyrics). This is supposed to be a gentle satire, not a searingly realistic art film, and on its own terms, it works brilliantly, creating its own pace, its own reality, its own world which, by the end of the movie, thoroughly won me over. Even the silly outfit that Black's character wears began looking nearly mythic (there's that word again) by the endearing climax.

Filmed entirely south of the border, with a vast amount of Mexican crew members, this film can hardly be called racist - it's not like Hess & Co filmed in Boise and tried to pass it off as Mexico, for cryin' out loud. And remember, a movie isn't merely what you see on screen, it's also what you DON'T see; so many stereotypical elements that could have been included and pathetically run into the ground are LEFT OUT - these had to be conscious choices on the parts of the film makers. Nacho Libre has its heart in the right place, without being sappy about it, and that utterly deranged smile of Black's in the final scene - where's he's gotten the glory, the gold and the girl - is more than thoroughly well-earned.