Nacho Libre (2006)

1.5

COMEDY
U.S. Release Date: 06/16/06
Running Length: 92 Minutes
MPAA Classification: PG (Violence)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1
Cast: Jack Black, Ana de la Reguera, Hector Jimenez, Darius Rose, Cesar Gonzalez
Director: Jared Hess
Screenplay: Jared Hess & Jerusha Hess & Mike White
Cinematography: Xavier Pérez Grobet
Music: Danny Elfman
U.S. Distributor: Paramount Pictures

Review by: Carter Moulton

02/11/09

When Napolean Dynamite came out, it wasn’t long until I realized that saying something a million times, like "Vote for Pedro," quickly becomes annoying—to the point where I started to discredit the film itself. Napolean Dynamite spawned “Vote for Pedro” apparel, re-popularized tater tots, and invited people everywhere to impersonate Jon Heder (who plays Napoleon). With Nacho Libre, Jared Hess (who directed Napoleon Dynamite) swings for the same kind of iconography with corn-on-the-cob-on-a-stick, vivid wrestling outfits (as pictured above), and a main character with an unusual appearance and swagger. Unfortunately, Hess’ film feels desperate for a laugh this time around, and, while its got a handful of humorous scenes, it’s a machine that runs out of steam long before the runtime is complete—and it only clocks in at 92 minutes.

Nacho (Jack Black, who is almost always hilarious—see High Fidelity, School of Rock, Orange County, etc.) is a monk/cook at an orphanage in Mexico. He feels as if he’s living a passionless life, an odd feeling for a monk. The film follows him as he experiments with his love: lucha libre wrestling. Other characters include Esqueleto (Hector Jimenez), a young man who doesn’t have many qualities, and a freshly arrived nun, Sister Encarcion (Ana de la Reguera). It’s not until after Sister Encarcion arrives that Nacho, wanting to make a great impression, turns his motivation to the kids at the orphanage.

Photo © Paramount Pictures

Hess has a knack for offbeat comedy, but, sadly, this film is off-color as well—I literally cringed at one point during the "royal rumble" scene. African, Mexican, and religious groups all have a right to be upset with some of the material, regardless of how silly it is. Jack Black is likable enough, but his Spanish accent is rough. Sometimes it slips into an Italian drawl—at one point, even a Brooklyn accent.

As mentioned earlier, Nacho Libre breaks the cardinal rule of comedy: it tries too hard. A particular scene finds Nacho climbing a cliff to eat an eagle’s egg—it’s supposed to give him “great power in the ring." He cracks it open, lets the yoke drip all over his face, and then dives into the ocean below. Hess must’ve thought the film wasn’t funny enough, and, someone, somewhere in post-production, a gaseous fart noise was inserted as Nacho dives. You can’t call it a fart joke because there isn’t a joke—he just lets one loose.

Nacho Libre comes off as a poor-man’s Wes Anderson picture, but even so, it made me laugh-out-loud a couple of times. Hess is obviously talented, and some material—notably a scene where Nacho dives off of a turnbuckle and flies through the air—really works. But, when a film feels long at 92 minutes and characters don’t have any depth—breaking wind instead—it’s time to go back to the drawing board. Hess can do better. He's done better.