Nacho Libre Starring: Jack Black, Hector Jimenez, Ana de la Reguera, Darius Rose Director: Jared Hess The film: With his unconventional looks and penchant for clownish characters, Jack Black has always been the least likely lad in Hollywood's Frat Pack. The fact that he'll never make a convincing male lead in conventional romantic comedies, however, has freed him to engage with increasingly bizarre projects. And probably only Black (below right) could bring laughs and credibility to surreal fantasy fare such as Nacho Libre. Inspired by the real-life story of a Mexican clergyman with an alternative career as one of the country's most entertaining wrestlers, the film stars Black as the titular character, switching between a friar's robe (when he's Ignacio, the culinarily challenged monk) and pastel-blue stretchy pants (when he's delivering - or, more frequently, receiving - pile drives and punches in the ring). Nacho Libre is a family-friendly triumph, with over-the-top acting and funny vignettes - and Jared Hess has delivered one of the most entertaining comedies this year. The simple cinematography (the camera hardly moves, with characters framed at the centre and speaking directly into the lens) lays bare Nacho's ambitions and good intentions (his childhood dream to triumph in wrestling is now compounded with an urge to improve the lives of his orphan charges at the monastery) and also the scorching landscapes of rural Mexico, where the film was shot and from where most of the cast hails. Black's Ignacio, who wavers between American English and English with a comic Hispanic-like accent, is remarkably funny. While doing 'dead guy duty', the monk also helps feed a church orphanage, his forte being gooey bean soup topped with leftover nachos Ignacio picks up every day in a back alley in town. Frustrated by his tedious labour - and later fired up by the arrival of the children's new teacher, the ingenue Sister Encarnacion (Ana de la Reguera) - Ignacio becomes Nacho and delves into the world of lucha libre ('free-style wrestling'), Mexico's unique blend of masked brawls and religious iconography. Black has also found his match in Hector Jimenez, who plays Nacho's lanky sidekick Esqueleto. The straight man to Black's goof, Jimenez manages to hog some of the film's best lines. The extras: The running commentary features Black and Hess reminiscing about the making of the film; their insights are augmented by a series of featurettes, which gives Nacho Libre its context. The history and nature of lucha libre is explained, as well as Hess' decision to shoot the film in Oaxaca with a Mexican team. Black's preparation for Ignacio/Nacho's hilarious singing scenes can also be witnessed. More straight-faced is a conversation between Black and Jimenez on their thoughts about the film, their preparation and their views on men in tights. The verdict: Silliness at its best, Nacho Libre will have you in a head lock from the first bell.