Movie Review: Nacho Libre

Tuesday night, I got to see the sneak preview of Nacho Libre for free with a media pass. (Don't get excited; the media pass has nothing to do with this blog.) Honestly, I'd probably pay full price to see the movie a second time.

The idea that a major motion picture studio, in a season normally dominated by predictable action flicks and dull romantic comedies, would release a film about a friar working as a cook in a Roman Catholic orphanage who moonlights as a luchador is itself refreshing. Throw in Jack Black, who neither has the body of a wrestler nor is remotely Mexican, as the title character and director/co-writer Jared Hess (of Napoleon Dynamite fame) and you have (at least in my opinion) a can't-miss summer movie.

Sure, Nacho's plot is formulaic and unbelieveable, but this film is not driven by its plot: It is driven by its absurdity, the highlight of which is Black's ridiculous Mexican accent—which manages to be ridiculous without being offensive or even entirely unrealistic. Ignacio (the title character's real name) and his tag-team partner, Esqueleto, are as bizarre and loveable as Napoleon and Pedro; and the movie's unusually innocent love story (a nun is the love interest) is charming.

Now that I am nearly 30 and am the father of two, I appreciate that Nacho manages to entertain without relying on strong language, graphic violence, or crude sexual humor. (I know; I've become a prude.) Nacho is one of those rare movies that scores high on a purity test but nonetheless leaves audiences satisfied.

I'm sure I'm overstating Nacho Libre's greatness. I suppose I mostly loved the film as a refreshing break from an otherwise stressful week. But we all need movies like that—movies that make us laugh without asking us to invest mentally or emotionally in the story. Go see Nacho Libre. You won't regret spending $8.00.

Rating (in radians—one complete revolution, 2π, being the highest possible score, 0 being the lowest): 13π/8