In her essay on Pulp Fiction, feminist critic bell hooks somewhat spuriously claimed that if a black filmmaker were to portray homosexuals the way Pulp Fiction does, he or she would be crucified by the white press. Of course, that's a questionable claim to begin with, but it has only grown more ridiculous in the years since. The current cycle of lowbrow Nouveau Blaxploitation comedies have generally treated gays and other minority groups with a level of sensitivity that makes Birth Of A Nation look like an NAACP Image Award winner. Fakin' Da Funk is fairly typical of this current cycle: It pays lip service to tearing down stereotypes and preconceptions based on race and ethnicity while exploiting those stereotypes for all they're worth. Dante Basco stars as the adopted Asian-American son of a proud, religious African-American couple (Ernie Hudson and Pam Grier). Basco grows up inexplicably thinking himself an African-American, leading a blissfully colorblind existence until moving to South Central L.A., where his new neighbors are confused by his ambiguous ethnic makeup. Operating in the tradition of the cinematic oeuvre of noted filmmaker Master P, Fakin' Da Funk subscribes to a level of logic usually seen only in the lesser films of Rudy Ray Moore, later seasons of Mad TV, and the minds of the completely stoned. Almost nothing in Fakin' Da Funk makes sense. In particular, a climactic basketball game featuring a group of gang-banging drug dealers facing off against the neighborhood role models for the soul of Basco seems to come out of nowhere. As in similar films—Woo, Sprung, I Got The Hook-Up, Booty Call—Fakin' Da Funk derives humor from exactly three sources: people insulting one another's parentage, random pop-culture references, and various misunderstandings concerning cultural differences. The film has an interesting, eclectic cast (Nell Carter, Bo Jackson, Margaret Cho, Duane Martin, John Witherspoon), but, other than an anticlimactic cameo by Rudy Ray Moore, there's little worth seeing in this slapdash, strenuously unfunny exercise in bad taste.