IMAGE: Poster for the film “Nacho Libre” by Jared Hess, featuring actor Jack Black.
NOTE: Wrote this column in June 2006. Repeating it here on my blog. Much of it still applies.
My first reaction to Nacho Libre, Jared Hess’ big screen parody of Mexican wrestling, was: “There we go again.” Making fun of Mexicans, I sadly concluded, hasn’t been forgotten in America.
After watching Jack Black – the film’s leading actor – in a late television show, I began to change my mind, though. The guy is funny and learned to develop a heck of a Mexican accent. He’s probably nuts, too. After all, you really need to be crazy to get into tights, wear a homemade cape, and battle goofy luchadores.
It’s just a gag, I told myself. And there’s no malice intended. Besides, the movie has several Latino actors, among them, Ana de la Reguera in another leading role, Héctor Jiménez, and Richard Montoya. In my book, that’s a step in the right direction.
And if a film like Nacho Libre is what it takes to get us into Hollywood, I have no complaint.
My pragmatism, however, didn’t stop me from allowing my almost sixty-year-old mind to rehash past Hollywood, television, or Billboard moments that have implied on multiple occasions that it is okay to make fun of us.
The first flashback had to do with the talking Chihuahua in the Taco Bell commercial. Funny dog, even to me, but incapable of dragging me back to a fast Mexican food place where flour tortillas were as hard as cardboard and tasted – well – like cardboard, the only time I ate there. Yes, I have eaten cardboard before. And, no, no quiero Taco Bell.
Second flashback: Frito bandito. What can I add? “It’s bandido, you silly.”
And then there were all those western movies where Mexican men were very ugly and somewhat filthy looking and always lost their battles against the americanos. Or those few western films with pretty Mexican women playing secondary roles of outsiders trying to steal the hearts of movie heroes played by actors like John Wayne or Gary Cooper. Remember Dolores del Río? Katy Jurado?
Ah, and those TV programs where Latinos played roles of gardeners and maids and spoke little English. ¡Ay, Dios mío!
Fortunately, my get-even and on-your-face mind did not skip the not-so-bad moments brought to us by Duncan Renaldo and Leo Carrillo as Cisco Kid and Pancho. Whew! Thanks for the silver lining to both of you, wherever you are.
But, then, the most dreaded moment arrived. A final flashback took me to 1962 and one of Pat Boone’s greatest hits: Speedy Gonzales. ¡Ay, ay, ay!
Rosita in a hacienda, during a moonlit old Mexico night, calling Speedy with a “La, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la,” and telling him to come to his adobe house to slap some mud on the wall. Because the roof was leaking and there were “loadsa roaches in the hall.”
But, wait, there’s more. Mel Blanc’s voice over breaks in with heavy Mexican accent, playing the Speedy Gonzales character. “I hafta go shopping downtown for my mudder. She needs some tortillas and chili peppers.”
¡Ay, carajo!
In a way, it’s our fault. We’re the ones that have created most of those stereotypes. In many parts of northern Mexico our ancestors and some of us have lived in adobe homes. They’re cool. And energy efficient, too. Roaches? Well, we have them. And one of them has become really famous in America. You know? La cucaracha. The one that needs “mariguana que fumar.”
Tortillas and chili peppers? Heck yes. You can’t leave home without them. Besides, they’re an American mainstream staple now, anyway. Thanks to us, of course.
But I must reject the notion implied by one of the song’s latter lines where Rosita tells Speedy that there are “no enchiladas in the icebox.”
Of course, there aren’t any. Real Mexicans don’t mess with frozen enchiladas. We eat the real thing. Heated left over corn tortillas, immersed in hot chile ancho sauce, rolled into a loose taco, filled with whatever carne is available, and topped with cebollita picada and lots of oregano.
Those are our enchiladas. Mmmmmm!
Thank you, flashback.