Over time, the unlikely pair falls in love just as conservative senator Mary Ellen Spinkle vows to banish Dr. S and his offensive lyrics from the airwaves forever.

[5] Wesley Morris of The Boston Globe felt the film had "no idea what to make of black people or hip-hop culture", noting how Rudnick's script is filled with "half-hearted structuring" and is "exasperating in its enervated, politically toothless jabs."

"[7] The Austin Chronicle's Marjorie Baumgarten felt the premise was filled with "possibilities for good culture-clash humor à la Rock 'n' Roll High School," but played everything straightforward, saying that it "exudes the familiar stench of stale comedy routinely tossed into theatres by the studios in the dog days of August when no one's really looking anyway.

"[11] Jonathan Rosenbaum from the Chicago Reader said, "It's no masterpiece, but I found it consistently good-hearted and sometimes hilarious, and the sparse crowd I saw it with was laughing as much as I was, especially at the outrageous rap numbers.

"[12] Entertainment Weekly's Lisa Schwarzbaum commended the movie for being a "lighter-than-Bulworth commentary on class, politics, and art" despite feeling "disconnected from its own objects of ridicule", calling it "a talent-stuffed assemblage of barbs and giddy musical numbers that shouldn't be written off as a feature flop — but savored instead for the cult-ready collection of late-night satirical skits and misses it is.