Liking Nacho Libre
It should have been a film that embarrassed me to admit I liked. I usually pass on movies with comedic actors like Jack Black in the leading role. Like the many bad Will Farrell or Jim Carrey movies out there, stupid comedies have a knack for catching up with me, whether I want to see them or not. I still cringe at the memory of being subjected to Anchorman on an airplane--a flop that has found a place on my list of worst movies of all time.
So I am a bit surprised that on Saturday night I not only saw Nacho Libre, I not only paid to see it, but I paid full ticket price to do so. And the strangest thing of all is that I really liked it.
The movie tells the story of a misplaced Mexican monk who toils away in an impoverished orphanage. But despite his vows, he longs to fulfill his dream of becoming a "Luchador"--a professional wrestler. The plot is fairly simple, with the expected twists and even an unrequited love interest in the person of a nun. Our erstwhile friar acquires an unwilling sidekick to help him become a great wrestler. The trappings of the Luchador life distract them from what's really important in life. Only when they focus on helping the orphans do their fortunes improve.
The movie is simple, and some of the humor is typically crass. (Flatulence plays a large role.) What makes the film stand out is that, despite the slapstick and the toilet jokes, it is nonetheless subdued. Unlike School of Rock, for example, Nacho Libre does not try to fill every moment with humor. Nor are the jokes always handed to you on a plate. Jared Hess, the director and co-author of the screenplay, keeps Jack Black in control throughout the movie. We all know that Black can be outrageous, but he is far funnier when he's not. It's this carefully subtlety that makes Nacho Libre stand out. My friend Micah says that "subdued" humor is in style these days. I never saw Napoleon Dynamite, Hess' previous movie, and I can't really testify to the prevalence of subdued humor, since I tend to avoid most comedies targeted to young adult audiences. But if this is the trend, and if filmmakers can maintain this level of quality, I'm all for it.
Jack Black is well complemented by the Mexican cast of Nacho Libre. Esqueleto, Nacho's sidekick, is a very well-crafted character played superbly by Héctor Jiménez. Hess' decision to film in Mexico and use a Mexican cast adds integrity to the film. Apparently, some people find Nacho Libre racist, but I think such criticisms reveal over-sensitive political correctness that could do with a good ideological root canal. Showing ethnic idiosyncrasies does not make a film racist, and Nacho Libre never pretends to represent "Mexicans" as inherently this or that. These quirks are part of the flavor of cultures, and there would be nothing worthwhile about a film with a bunch white-washed "Latino" actors playing well-rehearsed lines with the only thing Mexican about the film being the colors of the set on the stage and the ethnicity of the players and a mariachi band on the soundtrack. Once we start going down the path of over-sensitivity, all that is left to art is bland sameness which can never be art because it never addresses the differences and without differences what do we have to learn from each other?
I would not go so far as to label Nacho Libre as "social commentary." There is no deeper message than the simple truth that the things worth fighting for are the things that are bigger than you. But it is a nice film, good for some laughs and a refreshing take on a tired genre.
Tags: Nacho LIbre, film, movies, Jack Black, Jared Hess, Hector Jimenez
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