Not everybody who likes Dave Chappelle and his show will enjoy Dave Chappelle's Block Party.

But I get the sense that Chappelle wanted it this way. He didn't make this movie about a block party/rap concert in Brooklyn to please a mass audience. He did it for his own satisfaction, which doesn't necessarily make it a good movie -- just an interesting one.

Directed by Michel Gondry, Block Party is at times disorganized, at times hard to follow and at times prone to unmotivated transitions to disconnected times and places.

But in between technical shortcomings is Chappelle's comic brilliance, carrying us through what could have been a rather dull documentary.

Oh wait. No one told you this is a documentary? Well, it is, and aside from the racially charged nature of the humor, it actually bears little resemblance to the Comedy Central variety show that famously made Chappelle a $50-million man last year.

Primarily, the film is simply about Chappelle throwing an all-day hip-hop concert on a less-than-affluent block in Brooklyn. On a deeper level, it's about the comedian, who was once best-known for the stoner classic Half Baked, trying to cope with his new level of fame, a struggle that later caused him to flee to South Africa during production of Chappelle's Show's new season.

In the film's early stages, we see him taking great joy in walking around Dayton, Ohio, where he makes his home and people don't treat him like he's famous. Here, he hands out tickets to the concert, specifically to those country folk who would sooner find themselves on the moon than a rap concert.

See, most older white folks like the ones in Dayton mistakenly assume that the entire hip-hop world is nothing more than imposing performers singing, in words they can't understand, about either sex, violence or both. Chappelle knows this. He thinks these people should have a chance to gain a broader prospective.

Because, true, a good portion of rap is violence, etc. But notice: As the block party begins, the likes of The Game, Nelly and the Black Eyed Peas aren't in this lineup. And the closest we get to a Ying Yang Twins sighting is Chappelle's impression of a Spanish Lil' Jon -- "QUE!"

We see few descriptions of parties, of platinum and ice or of nicknames for the female rear end. We do have artists who, to some degree, have chosen a pursuit of meaningful work over more wealth.

Some of them -- such as Kanye West, Common and Mos Def -- are recognizable even to the casual rap observer. Others -- such as Erykah Badu and Dead Prez -- might not be.

All of them, according to Chappelle, have one thing in common: They have a message to get across. Chappelle thinks he, too, has a message to get across, using his comedy to attack the absurdity of racial assumptions.

For example, maybe you remember his Rick James impersonation, but few can recall -- what is undoubtedly more important to him -- his parody of a "white family" with a certain colorful name. Chappelle relates to the performers when offers this theory: All comedians wish they were musicians; all musicians think they are funny. He, meanwhile, is mediocre at both.

"But I've managed to talk my way into a fortune," he said.

That is not the only guilt-filled reference to his newfound wealth. It may be that the same guilt drove him to throwing this unique rap concert for a less-fortunate community.

The better documentaries have a theme -- a subtle thread tying everything together and ultimately amounting to a lesson the viewer can take away from the film.

This documentary tries to develop one -- exploring the idea of whether an entertainer can simultaneously pursue wealth and individual creativity -- but it becomes increasingly disorganized, losing its message somewhere between the haphazard cuts through various times and places. It also starts to wax nostalgic about the concert rather than commenting on the meaning or significance of it.

And so, the bottom line is this: rap and R&B fanatics will love this movie, while those with moderately diverse hip-hop interests will get a little bored around an hour and 30 minutes in.

And for those who get their rhymes exclusively from the radio? You ought to spend your $5 at the club or just listen to some Lil' Jon -- O-K?! Grade: B