The art of the spoof has been so degraded by the remember-this-scene likes of Date Movie, Epic Movie, Disaster Movie, etc., and maybe so diluted by the quick-spoof ease of television shows like The Simpsons or 30 Rock, that it may take a few minutes to recognize Black Dynamite as part of this once-admirable genre.

That's not to say this blaxploitation parody isn't funny; in fact, it opens with a hilarious mock-retro ad for Anaconda malt liquor, complete with aged-looking film stock and stilted line readings. It's this very attention to detail, in fact, that could create confusion. While recent (barely) feature-length spoofs focus on mimicking familiar scenes or celebrities with the dopey, sloppy idolatry of grade-school kids, Black Dynamite recreates the texture of a second-tier seventies cheapie faithfully enough that it might, initially, be mistaken for more of a winking homage, a blaxploitation equivalent of the B-movies Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino cooked up for Grindhouse.

Eventually, though, it becomes clear that Black Dynamite, with its occasional sight gags, constant camera zooms, and intentionally overcranked, literally descriptive score, adheres closer to the Mel Brooks model of spoofing (which itself peaked around the same time as blaxploitation). In the tradition of Young Frankenstein, in order for Black Dynamite to goof on its targets, it must become them -- at least in appearances, before descending (or, in some scenes, ascending) to all-out absurdity.

When we're introduced to Black Dynamite (Spawn's Michael Jai White), he's a cool cat enraged by the murder of his brother by drug dealers, prowling the streets for revenge. Eventually, the movie sends Black Dynamite and his team of urban enforcers to someplace called Kung Fu Island, as every twist in the plot reveals a conspiracy that goes all the way to the top -- and well over, until Black Dynamite has virtually no one left to track down and punch.

Director Scott Sanders doesn't pack in as many gags as classic spoofs like Airplane! or The Naked Gun, nor as much blatant schtick as vintage Brooks. His movie holds on to that grindhouse spirit with a little less slapstick and a little more genuine cool; a few of our hero's quips and moves are genuinely badass, a loving caricature of the original films.

That's not to say Black Dynamite himself is above reproach: White, who also co-wrote, has a lot of fun with the contradictions of blaxploitation heroes – namely that a studly, murdering hardass who plays by his own rules is also a righteous, orphan-loving do-gooder who gets in bed with a socially conscious activist, decrying his enemies for "selling drugs to the community." In a few sublime moments, the actors and filmmakers even let the seams show -- White in particular does a terrifically subtle double-take when a boom mike drops into a shot.

Like a lot of spoofs, Black Dynamite has trouble sustaining its raucous energy; the characters themselves are really just gags, so there isn't much to latch onto apart from the obvious love and fun that went into making the movie. There's no particular resonance to spoofing blaxploitation in 2009, and this territory has been covered. But the movie makes its case by being so damned fun. Sanders and White find just the right note of infectious silliness; it doesn't much matter that they're just hitting it over and over.