I was hooked on Brooks in the ‘70’s. His six short films launched the debut season of Saturday Night Live and helped to define the biting comedy of that long-lived series.

His nebbish, neurotic, navel-gazing labeled him for awhile as a "Los Angeles Woody Allen"—no insult, to be sure. His take on everyday situations reaped hilarity through his droll, matter-of-fact delivery. Who can forget the classic scene in "Lost in America" when a pajama-clad Brooks tries to convince casino boss Garry Marshall to return his errant wife’s gambled-away money? Or Brooks reconstructing his childhood "cowboy" bedroom after a painful divorce, leaping up and down on the bed? Or the amusing juxtaposition of Meryl Streep’s stellar life against Brooks’ cowardly experiences in the highly original "Defending Your Life"? Or his gushing flop sweat as substitute news anchor in "Broadcast News"? His voice talent alone as the nervous parent clown fish in the acclaimed "Finding Nemo" gave that charming animated tale a cleverly funny cartoon version of Brooks’ cinematic personae.

A comic genius, who has garnered numerous critical awards, Brooks has written, directed and starred in seven feature films. My sole complaint is that the guy doesn’t make more films—years lag between his cinematic efforts and I think that leaves a gaping hole in an art form that sorely needs more intelligent comedy.

I mention all of this simply because a backlog knowledge of Brooks’ work is a necessary prerequisite to really appreciate "Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World." Everything in this subtly funny film garners more smiles with some Albert Brooks history in your back pocket because here he is playing himself—or at least that self-deprecating comic we assume him to be.

As in all of the films that Brooks has written, "Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World" begins with a unique premise: the U.S. government has summoned Brooks to travel to India and Pakistan for a month to find out what makes the over 300 million Muslims in the area laugh. True to a self-doubting Brooks script, the comedian has been out of work. The story begins with a hysterical interview with director Penny Marshall for the lead role in a remake of "Harvey," and he has landed this foreign assignment not for his superior talent but because he was the only available choice. ("They probably think I’m Mel Brooks").

With the Medal of Freedom dangling before him, Brooks accepts the assignment somewhat daunted by the required 500-page report he must submit—a fact that becomes a running joke throughout the comedy. ("Nobody ever reads it anyway." "Just include a lot of charts"). At one point he even has his assistant "padding" the whole thing with a history of India.

Armed with two offbeat government aides (Lynch and Tenney, both armed with deadly dry humor), Brooks arrives in India (where the movie is actually filmed), finds a ramshackle office and a perky assistant, who quickly learns the art of sarcasm from Brooks. After an unsuccessful attempt at street interviews asking hurried passers-by what makes them laugh and the realization that the region is devoid of any comedy clubs, Brooks decides to put on his own stand-up show. Resurrecting Danny, the puppet, from his ventriloquist act on "The Ed Sullivan Show," Brooks numbs the already stone-faced audience. His take on an improv skit is equally flat, but outrageously film funny. Brooks, clad in an elaborate white silk Indian suit, furiously erasing and rewriting audience suggestions is vintage Albert Brooks. When he asks for a tent outside the auditorium "to prepare, to dress, to do my makeup" and we see him creep out of a tepee, this is the out-of-sync Brooks we know and love.

When the group’s trip to Pakistan gets a red-tape cancellation, a clandestine meeting with a group of Pakistani comedians is arranged at an illegal border crossing—another opportunity that doesn’t proffer much new data—except to stir the suspicions of the Pakistan and Indian governments. And these growing governmental concerns—they are sure Brooks is some kind of spy—are not helped by an Al-Jazeera meeting where Brooks is offered the starring role in a sitcom called "That Darn Jew."

Yes, this is funny. But wouldn’t it be mind-boggling if the government really tried to do this? Perhaps Brooks’ humorous take on our post 9/11 fears might inspire an effort to really understand another culture with something else besides threats and warfare.

As Brooks stated in a recent interview, "I don’t believe that the United States has done one-tenth what they should do on the cultural side. Trying to find out about another people; the idea that America is interested, that is intriguing."

No sarcasm there.