Nacho Libre

There's a pretty simple test as to whether you'd enjoy Nacho Libre or not. Two questions: Did you like Napoleon Dynamite? Do you typically like Jack Black?

If the answer to either question is no, than you can safely pass on Nacho. But if you appreciate the random quirkiness of Napoleon and the zany, melodramatic and overacted comedy of Black, welcome to a comedic goldmine. From the writers of Napoleon (Jared & Jerusha Hess) and School of Rock (Mike White) and the director of Napoleon (Jared Hess), this goofy comedy is much more like that Idaho-based surprise hit in tone and feel than the commercials let on. And while the irreverent wrestling comedy is laugh-out-loud funny and humorously surprising several times, it could have used more of Napoleon's simple likeability and School of Rock's heart.

Jack Black as Friar Nacho, who is looking for a bit more out of life

The film's best parts come from Black's earnest delivery and the traits it shares with Napoleon, like its look and cinematography (even though set in Mexico and not Idaho) and reliance on strange but fitting music. And like Dynamite, this film has plenty of well-delivered and fun-to-repeat one-liners that will be quoted again and again—lines like, "Beneath a man … is his nucleus." Jokes score by relying on wry observation, small details, slow pacing, and simplicity. And perhaps the Hesses' greatest strength is their fascination with the mundane, awkward and bizarre realness of life. Strange-looking characters don't always know what to say and either stare with hilarious facial expressions or nervously stumble through sentences like, "Anyways, I thought you'd like to join me in my quarters this night … for some toast."

Watching (and hearing) two awkward and teen-like adults sitting in a tiny room loudly crunching on very hard toast is enduring and fun in its simplicity and normalness. And like Napoleon, Nacho's best laughers come in understated and random vignettes like this. But the good news for people who criticized Napoleon for only being random vignettes and no plot, Nacho strings its comedic centerpieces on a bit more of a substantial story.

When Sister Encarnacion (Ana de la Reguera) comes to the orphanage, Nacho is motivated to greater things

Nacho (played by Black) is a friar at the Mexican orphanage where he grew up. He loves the children, but he feels the other friars disrespect him—giving him lower duties like cooking the meals for the children but without decent ingredients. So, as he slaves over pots of sludge, he dreams of being a famous wrestler in Lucha Libre, a type of free-style fighting in Mexico. When a new—and attractive—nun (Ana de la Reguera) is transferred to the orphanage, Nacho, a slave to his menial tasks and pathetic way of life, aims to catch her eye—yes, in a romantic way. He longs for the kind of attention the great luchador Ramses (Cesar Gonzalez) gets.

Humiliated for the last time by the friars, Nacho decides to make his dreams come true. He talks a street beggar (Hector Jiménez) into becoming his sidekick. And together, they began their secret wrestling career. Before he knows it, Nacho is sucked into a selfish quest for fame and respect that leads him to materialism and neglect of the children. When given one last chance as a luchador, Nacho must battle Ramses, reveal his secret passion, and find a motivation greater than selfish rewards.

Where Nacho can go down for the count is that it doesn't always trust its great understated and bizarre humor, but instead goes for easy laughs with broader, and borderline-crude, attempts (like many fart jokes). The result is a great mishmash of comedy styles. While the Hesses' first outing—Dynamite—seemed innocent and sweet, there's a touch of darkness to the humor here, including distastefully rude humor like an obese woman who crawls around like a rodent in tunnels. Yah, tunnels. (Nope, seeing the movie won't help you understand that bit any more than right now—it's just too bizarre to actually be funny.)

A street beggar (Hector Jiminez) becomes Nacho's sidekick

These less interesting and too bizarre side plots make the last half of the movie drag. And though the movie has a plot, the Hess knack for random vignettes leads to storylines or characters that seem like they will build to something—but don't. So why should we care? The second half seems disjointed, the narrative unravels and the story starts to serve the joke instead of the other way around. There's really no clear motivation for what characters do, and promising plotlines are rarely fully realized. This is most evident in the way the movie handles Nacho's religion.

Written by the Hess couple, both Mormons, the film mentions faith often—and in some really perceptive and well-executed ways. Nacho talks about knowing the gospel and sharing it with others, and there's a good theme of realizing you must use your desires and abilities (even if it is to wrestle in Spandex) for God's purposes—and not for self. "If you fight for others' well-being," the nun tells Nacho, "only then will God bless you in battle." And there're some great jokes that believers will enjoy about conversion and legalism.

However, the film's lack of character development and loose plot lead to some faith weirdness and contradiction. Nacho really doesn't know what he believes. He has no conviction. Why is he even a friar? It's clear that he would surrender his vows of celibacy if the attractive nun would too (he even sings a song about it). Nacho spouts not-so-good theology like "maybe we'll meet in the next life" and consults a gypsy for help. Some faith issues just don't add up. One minute, Nacho's sidekick "only believes in science" and then, he's suddenly leading Nacho in prayer.

But, let's be honest: Fully realized plots and stirring themes aren't what we're watching Nacho Libre for. Though it would have been a tighter comedy by dropping about 10 minutes of the extraneous too-weird stuff and adding more interesting supporting characters, it is often very funny and will live on in many a DVD collection. After all, this is all about Jack Black being Jack Black (but with an outrageous Antonio Banderas accent), funny and well-conceived wrestling action, and catch-you-off-guard comedy. And Nacho Libre has all of those things in a headlock.