Imagine for a moment that an intelligent person has just opened to the Arts section of a daily newspaper. Let’s say it’s a college newspaper. Maybe the school has a famous football team with some embarrassing quarterback problems.
You know, hypothetically.
This person begins to read a movie review. The writer describes the film as a “fish out of water” comedy, which the reader finds unbearably trite.
Suppose the plot of the film, entitled “Black Knight,” magically transports its hero back in time, from South Central Los Angeles to the Middle Ages, where he shocks the maidens with his modern vulgarity and leads an implausible peasant revolt against the king of England.
Furthermore, suppose the movie stars Martin Lawrence, whose mugging antics have always rubbed the reader in the wrong direction.
If this hypothetical situation were true, the reader’s urge to turn immediately to the Sports section might be overwhelmingly seductive.
Resist the urge.
“Black Knight” manages to be good in spite of itself. It is both funny and sincere and most of the credit, one must confess, belongs to its star.
Many viewers might not expect a bravura performance from Lawrence, whose ersatz ghetto characterizations can be cloying and creepy in even the smallest doses.
With “Black Knight,” the actor seems to be after something else altogether. By eschewing the prosthetics, gimmicks and impersonations that made him famous, he demonstrates an assured natural charm.
Whether pattering with his chambermaid-turned-lover (Marsha Thomason) or leading the royal court to a giddy rendition of “Dance to the Music,” Lawrence’s midget-lothario persona invigorates the material with a sense of light fun.
To be fair, the script by Darryl J. Quarles, Peter Gaulke and Gerry Swallow does have its moments.
Many of the obligatory time-warp jokes are surprisingly sharp, as in a muddled exchange between Lawrence and Percival (Vincent Regan), the king’s wicked henchman.
“Dost thou accuse the princess of making advances on thee?” Percival asks.
“No,” replies Lawrence, indignantly. “I accuse her of making advances on me.”
After eluding execution for the apparent seduction of the princess, Lawrence finds safety in the outer reaches of the kingdom, which are ravaged by plague and squalor.
“You should get a social worker to look at this place,” he muses while moving through the impoverished countryside. Inevitably, the plot obliges us with a peasant assault on the castle, led by the “black knight” himself.
An all-out action climax tacked on to a movie that is this featherweight in tone is never excusable, but the rebel “uprising” is mercifully brief.
At little more than 90 minutes, the film’s breezy pace goes a long way toward covering its flaws. It is slight and forgettable, but never wears out its welcome thanks to the easy likability of its star.
No project prior to “Black Knight” has complemented Lawrence’s natural abilities so well. If it finds an audience, his place among Hollywood’s most sought-after comic talents may be solidified.
“Black Knight” opens nationwide on Wednesday.
