'Undercover Brother' full of soul

By Marshall Fine
The (Westchester, N.Y.) Journal News

Eddie Griffin pokes fun at racial stereotypes, including big Cadillacs and even bigger Afros, in the new film "Undercover Brother." Universal Pictures 'Undercover Brother' PG-31 (for profanity, violence, sexuality) 89 minutes

Based on an Internet cartoon series, "Undercover Brother" takes as its hero a throwback to the days of giant Afros, platform heels and wildly patterned polyesters that could make the colorblind cringe. Yes, I'm talking about the 1970s — pre-disco but post-"Superfly." And Eddie Griffin's Undercover Brother is nothing if not devoted to the ethos of that time.

With an Afro the size of a bushel basket and an attitude that could give Pam Grier a love jones, Undercover Brother cruises in his mammoth Cadillac Coup de Ville.

When he steps into the middle of a mission by the B.R.O.T.H.E.R.H.O.O.D., a top-secret organization devoted to "truth, justice and the Afro-American way," they recruit him to their team, though some of his new colleagues are suspicious of someone who looks like he just arrived from Planet George Clinton.

Teamed by the Chief (Chi McBride) with agents Smart Brother (Gary Anthony Williams), Conspiracy Brother (Dave Chappelle) and Sistah Girl (Aunjanue Ellis), Undercover Brother is given the assignment to foil the nefarious plottings of The Man — who else? In this case, The Man is a shadowy white man bent on brainwashing black people out of their soulfulness.

That his scheme involves a fried-chicken franchise operation is not a true representation of the humor in this film (though director Malcolm D. Lee, working from the script by John Ridley and Michael McCullers, manages to actually get laughs from this notion). Though the writing is inconsistent, Ridley and McCullers toss off so many jokes that they win you over through the sheer volume of their effort. Once you're laughing at the best lines, even the second-best jokes start to seem funnier.

Lee and the writers aren't afraid to poke fun at black stereotypes — from both a black and a white perspective — and do so with zest and wit, even as they make jokes about the way white people perceive blacks. At one point, Undercover Brother, disguised as an uptight buppie to infiltrate The Man's cover organization, is exposed to what his nemesis Mr. Feather (Chris Kattan) refers to as "the black man's Kryptonite" — which turns out to be a white woman. As it happens, this particular secret agent is played by the spectacular-looking Denise Richards, whose character happens to be Penelope Snow — code-name: White She-Devil.

Griffin makes Undercover Brother a karate-kicking smoothie who wields his Afro-picks like throwing knives. When he plays the uptight buppie, he is forced to undergo "Caucasia-vision" therapy to make him seem whiter — a "Clockwork Orange"-like session involving immersion in images of "Leave It to Beaver" and "Friends."

Kattan is equally funny as The Man's resentful henchman, who must struggle to suppress the funk that frequently bubbles up in his own psyche. Ellis has a great deadpan as Sistah Girl, who at first resists Undercover Brother's advances. Dave Chappelle snaps off terrific one-liners as Conspiracy Brother, who finds hidden racist messages in phrases like "Good morning."

The humor runs from silly to smart, with a soul-funk soundtrack that feels like a time machine. Despite its inconsistencies, you can't write the film off. Every time you think "Undercover Brother" has run out of steam, it finds a new way to surprise and amuse.