Hispanics are among the biggest viewers of cinema in the United States.

They are also a steadily growing demographic and are gaining strength in the United States. And because of these factors, and many more, it is unsurprising that North American cinema is seeing a lot more films about the Latino experience. Or to be more exact - the Mexican immigrant experience.

The reality is that most films about Latinos in main stream cinema to date have suffered from the same issues as main stream Hollywood films at large--they are presented in recycled formulas. In the same way that a romantic comedy must feature two attractive people falling for each other in silly circumstances, films about Mexicans, as portrayed by Hollywood, must also cater to similar conventions and stereotypes.

And in "Spare Parts," viewers get a nice bullet by bullet outline of those stereotypes everyone is expected to accept about Latinos. They are defined by their status as illegals. They are poor. They can be found in car shops and thrift shops. They always have massive families living on top of one another. They engage in crime.

The basic premise of the film is actually based in real life, so at least the film is able to lend itself some credibility by using the "based on a true story" moniker. Four Latin American students--actually Mexican illegals--team up with their robotics professor (one of the most vapid of all characters) to enter a national competition. The story is intended to be an inspiration for all Latin Americans struggling in this country and as a means of reminding them that all Latinos are capable of great feats.

There is nothing wrong with a good inspirational story. There are tons out there and many are classic masterpieces. And in this case, the inspirational stuff, while presented in the most conventional of manners, is actually fun and engaging. But it could have been four white guys and it would have been just as uplifting.

Which is to say that the problem lies in packaging this film as one about Latino strength. The four main characters (and this is one of the major issues at hand) are all given their own set of emotional issues to deal with. Oscar (Carlos PenaVega) wants to be in the army, but is illegal and so he is looking for an outlet to get ahead. Lorenzo (Jose Julian) is also illegal and is belittled by his father, who prefers his American-born brother, who is the obligatory criminal. Then there is Cristian (David Del Rio), whose biggest issue, aside from being illegal, is that he is book smart and gets bullied by some obligatory Hispanic bully with a beard and black hair to remind us what bad Hispanics look like. And then there is big Luis (Oscar Javier Gutierrez II), who is the muscle of the group, is also illegal, wonders about his intelligence in one scene and barely plays enough of a part to figure into the proceedings.

The illegal issue is at the forefront for most of the film, but there is rarely ever a true moment where the viewer feels that these characters' lives are at stake. Oscar goes into more issues on this front than any other character, but even then it is glimpsed in a few scenes and rarely makes much of an impact. He is, however, the most complete of the characters and it is clear from the film's epilogue that he is the central focus of the film. And actor Carlos PenaVega does imbue him with a gentle quality that makes him the standout character.

Lorenzo gets a decent character arc as the rejected boy who eventually gets the treatment he deserves. But his character is rather confusing. He is supposed to be the good kid whose virtues go unnoticed. He is initially introduced fixing someone else's car, showing his craftsmanship and mechanical knowhow. Then he scolds his brother for bringing home alcohol. He even protects his brother from his father's potential consequences. But then he contradicts that by breaking into the car, leaving the viewers to wonder where that came from. To make matters more confusing, he never makes another questionable decision throughout the entire film, confirming his status as a good kid, but leaving that moment of illegal activity as a clear sign that the screenwriters needed a contrivance to fit their plot together.

This is supposed to be a story about four guys, but it is really only about two as the other two characcters not only feel underdeveloped, but their treatment is uninterested and boring. Oscar and Luis barely get anything to do aside from fulfilling roles on the team. The fact that the screenwriters try to cram in some sort of clichéd development for Oscar (the geeky kid who gets picked on at school for being smart and eventually gets (?) a girl he met two days ago) that has no bearing on the main thematic materials goes to show how unimportant he really is in the grand scheme of things.

And then there is Fredi Cameron, a combination of the two teachers who helped the real-life team win the competition. George Lopez tries his best to give this character some humanity, but the reality is that Fredi is just there to serve as the school teacher and little else. He offers no major inspiration for his students, making their attachment to him unbelievable. There is an attempt to make him seem selfish for leaving his students, but really, why would anyone get angry with a temporary substitute looking for another gig? He has to pay the bills, right? That this becomes a major point of conflict in the story's most dramatic moments comes off as silly and childish at best. His backstory is as predictable as any and the scene in which he finally reveals it is filled with clunky dialogue and awkward emotional transitions that it fails to ever get the viewer truly behind him. If there is any interest in Fredi, it is by virtue of his affiliation with the students, but not on his own merits. That there is a quasi-love story brewing with Marisa Tomei's more fully realized teacher (though even there the writers tried to give too much info and then fail to give enough) furthers the notion that the writers were going back to the book of storytelling formulas to piece together a rather messy script.

For the first hour, viewers will likely be cringing at all of this hodgepodge of underdeveloped Latino themes combined with typical Hollywood storytelling devices and product placement. (How about some montages showing the guys having fun as the means of forcing their emotional connection?) The hideous "Spanglish," the most inauthentic attempt at Hispanic authenticity in this kind of cinema, fortunately makes minimal appearances, though native speakers will cringe at Spanish inserted at the start of some scenes to "create" the environment of a Hispanic world, before having these same characters nonsensically jump to English. Why would a Mexican father, who starts speaking with his son in Spanish suddenly continue the conversation in English? There is one solid use of this differing languages between Oscar and his mother when he lies to her about his involvement in the army. He speaks in English while she responds in Spanish, expressing the barrier between the two. Otherwise, the film throws in some Spanish here and there to remind us that these people are Spanish despite the context not calling for it.

And then there is McDonalds. As if the pandering to Hispanic stereotyping needed one final push, the film promotes McDonalds as if it owned the entire film. One scene shows Fredi applying for a job while eating McDonald's. That moment is cringe-worthy enough, but is not even the biggest offense. When Oscar takes out his girlfriend Karla (played by Carlos PenaVega's real-life wife Alexa PenaVega) for their first date, he chooses of all places, McDonalds. But the torture does not end there. After Karla points out cheap McDonald's is (wink, wink, nudge, nudge to all poor Latinos out there looking for a cheap meal), Oscar goes on to tell her that McDonalds is an important place for him, thus fulfilling the telenovela convention of not just placing products, but also promoting them. And then he goes on a nonsensical monologue about when he crossed the border he was hungry and his mother bought a burger for him. He fell asleep, and when he woke up, he realized that the burger had been eaten by his cousin. Why would that be a good memory and make McDonald's an important place in his life? The only logical explanation is that there had to be some way to tie in McDonald's value to pay for the sponsorship.

"Spare Parts'" final half hour, arguably its most interesting, is also its most predictable and not until the final epilogue, which details these characters' outcomes, does the viewer actually feel invested in the four teenagers. There is no doubt that the intentions (aside from the horrific McDonalds commercial) are sincere in highlighting the achievement of Latinos. But unfortunately this film offers nothing new that has not been seen before. Clocking in at almost two hours, the movie almost feels like it is being forced down the viewers' throats as a way to make people feel sorry for Latinos rather than celebrate their greatness. Any attempts at cultural authenticity falter because the film relies so heavily on the tired stereotypes to represent its characters. There was certainly a great story here, but the execution is as poor as it gets, making "Spare Parts" live up to its title as another throwaway movie.