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.
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.
Whatever it was that other people seemed to enjoy -- those other people being dumbasses, of course -- they've allowed director Jared Hess to make another movie. "Nacho Libre" is an offensive, racist, unfunny film starring Jack Black as a Mexican friar named Nacho. Nacho works in an orphanage, loves wrestling and finds himself all hot and bothered when smokin' hot Sister Encarnacion (Ana de la Reguera) shows up. Nacho decides to pursue an alternate career in tag-team wrestling after meeting Esqueleto (Hector Jimenez). Unfortunately, Nacho and Esqueleto suck and never win, but still manage to make money as wrestlers. Basically, this is simply a ridiculous idea with no real substance that Black and Hess thought would be funny. If any humor exists in the film, it's derived from Black's stupid accent and the silly way he behaves. I don't know how many times we're supposed to laugh at how Jack Black looks in tights, but Hess seems to be relying on this particular gag to carry the film. Much like "Napoleon Dynamite," Hess tries to coax an entire film out of a few simple ideas. In "Napoleon," it was the way the main character acted and talked. In "Nacho," it's much the same thing. Unfortunately, no matter how ridiculous a character might be, it's not enough to carry an entire film if there's nothing behind 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.
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