What is the art of Jack Black? Does Nacho Libre,the new comedy of wrestling and bean-dipped machismo, qualify as art? Can we imagine Jack Black speaking to his audience before exhibition and explaining the concept of Lucha Libre and the merits and ambitions of this cinematic diptych of comedy?

There's no doubt that Jack Black is a likable actor and has used his brilliant, smarter-than-he-looks slacker charm all the way to a successful career in comedy. In Nacho Libre he reaches the pinnacle of his gregarious confidence and proves himself as formidable a comedic actor as any Adam Sandler or Jim Carrey.

To say that Jack Black is smarter than his material doesn't imply too much. His performance in Nacho Libre is somewhat limited in range, playing an overzealous Mexican Friar complete with a stereotypical curly hairstyle and nasty moustache. Jack Black certainly deserves kudos for his enthusiasm; he inhabits his role with Chicano zest (Not easy to do, for a white man to play brown-faced) and introduces a sort of Brando meets Ricardo wheeze, making sure we are listening closely to every toilet joke.

Black's performance is the movie's strength and failure. Watching Black wince and snicker through his own characterization, at as if to say, I'm Jack Black and you're watching my movie! is a constant distraction that only reminds his audience that he's been in better films and will be yet. On the other hand, one can't help feeling sorry for the compromised, humorless Brother Ignacio character that theoretically should be taking the ludicrous events in this film more seriously than the manic Jack Black allows himself.

The rest of the production of Nacho Libre stands and waits, like an entire locker room of nameless luchadores waiting to be pummeled by the oiled up superstar "Ramses." The cast is unusually camera-scary and camera-shy with only Ana de la Reguera looking halfway photogenic. Is the film meant to be some sort of a realistic depiction of poverty in Mexico, because most extras in the film happen to be toothless, shirtless and unhappy? Well that's certainly what we're looking for in Jack Black film--realism. (Imagine a Jack Black funny face here)

Some moviegoers are claiming the film has racist or least culturally insensitive undertones. I didn't quite get the feeling of any racism happening in the film; merely a general discomfort at all the flushing toilets, depictions of vomit and defecation and countless nipples (unfortunately male) thrown into my face.

Director Jared Hess of Napoleon Dynamite fame doesn't quite know how to handle such a charismatic lead actor, and along with writer Jerusha Hess, barely manages to create some weak cover story to complement Jack Black's pointless wrestling fantasy.

The best scene in the film is surely the ending and believe it or not, that's not a sarcastic dismissal. The final scene in which Jack Black wins the match (big spoiler, right?) and celebrates in orgasmic glory amongst the equally happy crowd of fans, is a moving and appropriate moment. It didn't so much convey to me anything about The Lord, wrestling or Mexican orphans, but it did impress upon me the mere fact that Jack Black has made it in Hollywood as a leading man and has a bright career ahead of him. For that final moment of celebration, both the fictitious wresting audience and movie audience were with him. But that one happy moment couldn't make up for a movie that has no real journey. Jack Black cannot wrestle, and it seems a select few--if any--directors in Hollywood can successfully make a "good" wrestling movie.

Sorry to tell you, Chico. But just like Ignacio had to learn, (before the Hollywood happy ending made everything all better) Jack Black doesn't belong in the ring or in a monastery. Grade: C-