I don't know what there was to get about "Napoleon Dynamite," a boring, unfunny movie about a loser, but whatever it was, I didn't get it.

One big difference between the two films is that viewers were unfamiliar with Jon Heder, so many assumed "Napoleon" might be a real person. Undoubtedly, part of that film's appeal stemmed from audiences sitting there thinking that was a real guy. In "Nacho," unless you're a moron, a shut-in, or just very fortunate, there can be no such supposition. This is obviously a vehicle for Jack Black to do his thing. He sings a bit; he dances; he places emphasis on certain syllables in his Spanglish in a pathetic attempt to get laughs.

My advice: To enhance your enjoyment of this movie, head to the snack bar, get the jumbo nacho platter, run back to the theater, then pour the piping hot cheese over your genitals as the lights go down and pitch of your voice rises to a girlish scream. You'll find that it's the only way to make "Nacho Libre" seem bearable by comparison.