N v N : Nacho vs Napolean
As it might be inferred from the post title, I caught Nacho Libre (and for those who read it out loud in their head, read it out loud as li-braE, because that's how I do it). Quite a good show, as might be expected from the collaboration of the director of Napolean Dynamite and the writer of School of Rock. A nice, feel-good comedy with numerous lough-out-loud moments, many of which didn't get spoiled in the trailer (which I saw while queueing up to get my tickets), it's probably my favourite comedy so far this year.
The thing is, based on what I did see from the trailer, I came to believe it'd be more like Napolean Dynamite than School of Rock. I expected more of Napolean Dynamite's small-town, asshole-centred plot rather than School of Rock's "asshole does something for the wrong reasons, but while doing it, discovers the right reasons for doing them and grows a heart" plot, which was what Nacho Libre turned out to be basically, of course with the small-town twist spun around it.
The small-town, loserville aspect really does work for comedy. Worked for Nacho Libre, works for My Name is Earl, because it's an aspect of life most of us don't really see, or rather we don't bother looking at, and it deconstructs "life" to its most basic aspects, taking us out of the rat-race setting that we tend to be used to. Almost a fantasy setting, because the loserville aspect is really taken to the extreme, with all the losers in life just so happening to be centred around such tiny geographic locations, it juxtaposes the joy that the simple things in life brings for these simple people against what we derive joy from. It also shows heroism and determination existing at a level we might never expect it to be, among the poor, downtrodden people in these backward locales.
However, what Napolean Dynamite had that Nacho Libre didn't was the story focusing around a guy you probably wanted to punch in the face. I mean, I want to punch Jack Black in the face quite a few times through the movie, especially when he's prancing around like an asshole (almost the same way he did in School of Rock too), but it's nothing compared to Napolean Dynamite. Almost completely self-centred, supremely immature, oblivious to the world around him, with Jon Heder's (the actor who played Napolean) expert mannerisms and dorkspeak (ligers and nunchuks and ninjas, oh my), you seriously would want to strangle that guy. And you see the people around him, his shut-in brother who frequents chatrooms and his footballer-wannabe uncle, they're pretty shitty too, but still, I felt they were nowhere near as punchable as Napolean. You spend a lot of the movie sucked in my the small-town loserville antics, his interactions with Pedro and his brother and his uncle, and you laugh it up, but you still want to punch him. Then, in one brilliant flash of selflessness, he embarasses the fuck out of himself by getting on stage to help Pedro's presidential race (one that no one would expect him to have a chance at) by doing the most ridiculous dance this side of Star Wars Kid. More so than saying even the downtrodden of the world have hope of doing good, you see this spark of hope for this self-centred, oblivious moron. It's like showing the world the innate goodness of human beings or something; the tiny hope that remained in Pandora's Box.
More so than being a smalltime loser, I really wanted to hate Nacho's guts, but the way he was written, I really couldn't. And that's why Nacho Libre couldn't hope to reach the level of joy I derived from Napolean Dynamite.
The thing is, based on what I did see from the trailer, I came to believe it'd be more like Napolean Dynamite than School of Rock. I expected more of Napolean Dynamite's small-town, asshole-centred plot rather than School of Rock's "asshole does something for the wrong reasons, but while doing it, discovers the right reasons for doing them and grows a heart" plot, which was what Nacho Libre turned out to be basically, of course with the small-town twist spun around it.
The small-town, loserville aspect really does work for comedy. Worked for Nacho Libre, works for My Name is Earl, because it's an aspect of life most of us don't really see, or rather we don't bother looking at, and it deconstructs "life" to its most basic aspects, taking us out of the rat-race setting that we tend to be used to. Almost a fantasy setting, because the loserville aspect is really taken to the extreme, with all the losers in life just so happening to be centred around such tiny geographic locations, it juxtaposes the joy that the simple things in life brings for these simple people against what we derive joy from. It also shows heroism and determination existing at a level we might never expect it to be, among the poor, downtrodden people in these backward locales.
However, what Napolean Dynamite had that Nacho Libre didn't was the story focusing around a guy you probably wanted to punch in the face. I mean, I want to punch Jack Black in the face quite a few times through the movie, especially when he's prancing around like an asshole (almost the same way he did in School of Rock too), but it's nothing compared to Napolean Dynamite. Almost completely self-centred, supremely immature, oblivious to the world around him, with Jon Heder's (the actor who played Napolean) expert mannerisms and dorkspeak (ligers and nunchuks and ninjas, oh my), you seriously would want to strangle that guy. And you see the people around him, his shut-in brother who frequents chatrooms and his footballer-wannabe uncle, they're pretty shitty too, but still, I felt they were nowhere near as punchable as Napolean. You spend a lot of the movie sucked in my the small-town loserville antics, his interactions with Pedro and his brother and his uncle, and you laugh it up, but you still want to punch him. Then, in one brilliant flash of selflessness, he embarasses the fuck out of himself by getting on stage to help Pedro's presidential race (one that no one would expect him to have a chance at) by doing the most ridiculous dance this side of Star Wars Kid. More so than saying even the downtrodden of the world have hope of doing good, you see this spark of hope for this self-centred, oblivious moron. It's like showing the world the innate goodness of human beings or something; the tiny hope that remained in Pandora's Box.
More so than being a smalltime loser, I really wanted to hate Nacho's guts, but the way he was written, I really couldn't. And that's why Nacho Libre couldn't hope to reach the level of joy I derived from Napolean Dynamite.