Undercover Brother: It's All Good in the 'Hood

As much as I have waxed nostalgic in this column about being a teenager during the 1980s, it was the 1970s when I was a little boy. I'm not going to go into some long dissertation about how the '70s were the time of Nixon and Watergate, Carter and the energy crisis, Vietnam and Iran. Truth be told, I don't really remember much of that stuff. What do I remember?

AFROS! BIG, GIGANTIC AFROS!!!

I remember as a little boy I was absolutely fascinated with the gigantic afros of Dr. J, Julius Erving, and other NBA greats on the television. I remember watching a football game and seeing a close-up of Washington Redskins wide receiver Danny Buggs taking off his helmet on the sideline and revealing this enormous 'fro. "How did he get his helmet on?" I wondered. I remember Good Times and What's Happening. I remember the Commodores and the Jacksons on Soul Train and American Bandstand. And I remember all those old McDonald's commercials where soul brothers would roll into a Mickey D's and rhyme their orders.

Most of all, I remember my friend Doug from grade school. He had a great afro, one of the best in the class. Doug was one of the better sports players, too. Not as good as myself, of course, but I remember he was a bear to bring down on the football field. Doug had one weakness. His 'Fro! "Don't touch it! Don't touch the afro!" he would scream as we gang-tackled his ass out of bounds. Do you know how hard it is to tackle a guy and, at the same time, worry about his hair? In the open field, when I was the only person standing between him and the end zone, I just used to go for his head. I only had to touch the 'fro and Doug would fall to the ground and pretend he tripped.

Undercover Brother, now in theaters, returns afros to their big-screen glory. A hilarious mix of Shaft, Austin Powers, and I'm Gonna Git You Sucka (though MUCH funnier), Undercover Brother is one of the biggest surprises of the year for me. The commercials made this movie look stupid. But after seeing the film, I am SO glad the ads were edited the way there. Absolutely NONE of the movie's best jokes have been spoiled in the commercials! What a rarity!

I'm going to briefly describe the plot of this flick, and if some of the lines and terminology don't make you chuckle, then this is not a movie for you. Eddie Griffin plays the title character, a self-appointed "Robin Hood of the 'hood" with an afro that Richard Roundtree and Fred Williamson would be damn proud of. UB is recruited by an underground Rebellion called the B.R.O.T.H.E.R.H.O.O.D. to infiltrate an evil multinational corporation run by The Man, whose main goal is to direct a worldwide conspiracy to stifle black culture.

Members of the B.R.O.T.H.E.R.H.O.O.D. include the Chief (Chi McBride, best known as the principal on Boston Public); Smart Brother (Gary Anthony Williams); Conspiracy Brother (David Chappelle); and Sistah Girl (Aunjanue Ellis). Finally, there is Lance, the Token White Guy hired because of affirmative action (former Doogie Howser star Neil Patrick Harris, giving one of the film's daffiest performances). They strap Undercover Brother, who has modeled his whole look and outlook on life after the blaxploitation films of the '70s, into something called CaucasaVision. The contraption pumps images of banal white culture like Murder, She Wrote and old NBA games from the '50s directly into his brain. After 30 seconds of it, UB cries out, "I ... see ... white people!" Soon, Griffin is deep undercover, sporting polo sweaters and corduroys and boasting a working knowledge of Friends.

On the side of the Man is Mr. Feather (Chris Kattan), a spastic henchman who secretly loves black culture but kidnaps the Colin Powell-like General Boutwell (Billy Dee Williams!!!) and coerces him into giving up his bid for the White House to open a chain of fried-chicken franchises (the General's slogan: "I used to work at the Pentagon; Now I help you get your chicken on!"). Worse yet, the General's chicken is fried with a secret ingredient that renders the restaurants' customers as white as Pat Boone. Soon, even Terry McMillan is writing "How Stella Got Her White Man Back."

To combat the efforts of Undercover Brother, meanwhile, the Man dispatches the alluring Penelope Snow (Denise Richards). Snow can only be described as the black man's kryptonite. Her code name is the White She Devil, and the battle between her and Sistah Girl is one of the film's best moments.

I'm going to stop right there with the plot summary. That is more than ample story to hang a couple of hundred gags on as director Malcolm D. Lee and screenwriters John Ridley and Michael McCullers do over the course of 90 FAST minutes. In their hands, Undercover Brother is not insulting to either race. The script, while a bit obvious in some of its gags, skillfully tweaks both black stereotypes and white ones. Only the most sensitive or humorless will find the movie's equal-opportunity barbs unfunny. In fact, the movie's ultimate message is that we all have soul, and only together can we make the world a good place.

Undercover Brother started out as an Internet cartoon, but I think (I hope!) we'll be seeing him take on a second and much larger life as a movie franchise. Griffin has never been better in a movie before, and I haven't even gone into the cameos by the likes of James Brown and Joe Don Baker. While very different in their comedy, this is the most consistently funny movie I've seen since Meet the Parents.

Go with the 'Fro!

Undercover Brother is rated PG-13 for mild profanity, sexuality, and VERY cartoonish violence.