Friday, June 16, 2006
 
Movies I Have No Intention Of Seeing, #35




Nacho Libre


starring Jack Black

directed by Jared Hess (Napoleon Dynamite)



My wife doesn't think you're particularly funny.

It's nothing personal. She just works a lot of hours, so she doesn't have a bunch of energy to spend pretending to laugh at things that aren't actually funny. You don't have to worry because I've done all the legwork on this for you.

Don't get me wrong, she's not a mirthless shrew. She has the physical capacity to produce laughter and even (I suspect) somewhere very deep down she has the emotional tools to feel something other than tired + annoyed. All I'm saying is, if you happen to meet her on the street somewhere, you can make with a bunch of jokes and whatever passes for charm in the hillbilly backwater you are statistically likely to live in, dear Reader, if you like. Just know before you start that you should be prepared to face a solid ice wall of impassivity and eye-rolling. That's right, I just painted a word-picture of a wall with eyes. That's how desperate the situation is.

I don't tell you this to make you feel bad. I really don't. Personally, I find you endlessly amusing. I don't mean that in a patronising way at all, either.

The reason why I point any of this out is that my wife, who has even less patience for "comedy" movies than she does for "comedy" oriented people, starts giggling uncontrollably every time she sees any kind of advertising related to this film, Nacho Libre. When it first happened, the sound so took me by surprise, I thought she was choking and immediately administered a vigorous and thrusty Heimlich maneuver. She didn't think that was funny AT ALL! And although it wasn't all that funny, the move did lead directly and surprisingly to [CENSORED], which was nice and all, but just left me more confused if anything.

Anyway, I don't know if it's the Jack Black or the what's-the-big-hurry? sensibility carried over from Napoleon Dynamite or the ridiculous put-on Mexican accents of the whole thing, but something about it makes Mrs. Pops laugh and laugh and laugh. Personally I think it has something to do with the masks and capes. I do remember her laughing hysterically at the end of Eyes Wide Shut with all the people naked but for masks and capes. But now that I think of it, she might just have been laughing at the self-importance-to-the-point-of-absurdity of that whole orgy business. Or perhaps it was sort of a punchy, exhausted giggle brought on by the trauma of extreme boredom. I don't know. There are a lot of factors to consider. That was a complicated movie.

Not only does this movie pass the Mrs. Pops test for potential interest, but it's also got one huge thing going for it: it is not The Lake House. For those of you who are not aware, The Lake House is another movie coming out this week, this one about Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock who fall in love via a crappy plot device the power of fate and what one reviewer has angrily called "a magic mailbox."

See, they use this mailbox at this lake house and they exchange letters, but they are living two years apart! Isn't that romantic?! No, that's not the right word... tip of my tongue... also starts with an "r"... ah well, it will come to me eventually.

Anyway, I'm sure it ends all tragic-like with one of them having some class of fatal disease or hit by a car or something. If we're lucky. If we're not, they find each other and complete the part of the other that they didn't realize was missing before or what fucking ever they do in those films.

Let me ask you, potential moviegoer, this one simple question about The Lake House: any rasslin' in that? No?

Then your choice is clear.

I choose Nacho.

Three (out of 3) on the Hot Babysitter Scale.



Pops



TOTALLY SKIPPABLE WORLD CUP SOCCER CONTENT SECTION

This World Cup section will stand for all eternity, immortalized as part of a MIHNIoS post so that I might bore future generations with equal zeal.

Weekend Match(es) of the Day(s):

SATURDAY: USA v. Italy, 11:30 am Pacific/2:30 pm Eastern, ABC. This weekend is Father's Day. In an effort to be accomodating, my in-laws have offered to celebrate the occasion on Saturday so that we (and my brother-in-law's family) would be free on Sunday to mark the occasion with other fathers. Except we're having lunch at a restaurant. Lunch. During the must-win USA v. Italy game. I'm recording it, but still. I know this restaurant has a TV in the bar. I'm praying the people there feel the same way you people do about soccer and choose to show lumberjack competitions instead of the match so I don't have to shove bits of pasta in my ears to keep any information from tainting my blissful ignorance before I get to watch.

If I'm still married by Sunday, you'll know it went well.

SUNDAY: Brazil v. Australia, 6 am Pacific/9 am Eastern, ABC (I think). Uninspiring Brazil against an energetic and exciting Australian side who don't really know they're not supposed to be competitive in games like this. It could either be a spirited contest or an absolute massacre. Either way, I heard Anthony LaPaglia is going to be there! The Without a Trace guy! He's Australian! Star power at the World Cup! Now I KNOW you'll want to watch.

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