"If you don't like me, I'm going to make you hate me."

Margaret Cho's attitude about being censored at a 2004 gig for republican hotel owners basically sums up the source of her fans' rabid devotion. She unapologetically speaks her mind in the best (or worst) way -- seeking to criticize, offend and mock.

Such is the reasoning behind the name of her recent stand-up comedy tour and film, "Assassin." In the documentary's intro, she reveals she selected the "volatile, provocative and incendiary name ... [to] make the right wing go crazy." Filmed in May 2005 in (appropriately, perversely) the nation's capital, "Assassin's" title is strangely prophetic in light of the recent controversy surrounding Pat Robertson's comments about Venezuelan President Chavez's much-needed comeuppance.

A review of "Assassin" is less about its being a movie than a critique of Cho's comedy. Camera work is static and uncreative, and the few minutes of footage before and after the stand-up act are just opportunities for fans to gush -- completely unnecessary since it's assumed that the majority of those watching the film are already converts. What would be intriguing, given the political and personal nature of her humor, is to hear testimonials of how she's affected everyday people or the details of how she was "disinvited" to the Democratic national convention.

Although I pretty much subscribe 100 percent to her vituperative diatribes, not all of her material, or at least the way she pokes fun at them, make for good comedy. Her style is limited, consisting of blank stares (while waiting for laughter and segues), screaming, and inconsistent impersonations (her gay man isn't that great, but her mom is always gold and Bjork a delightfully surreal surprise).

What can be dreary about Cho's humor is that sometimes it's a bit too easy. As a fierce liberal, feminist and pro-gay activist, she obviously targets President Bush, Condoleezza Rice, Christians and Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. Mere criticism isn't enough for humor, but she comes through occasionally with what would be considered taboo or insensitive opinions about say, the late Pope (he "held on" way too long), or going the irreverent and gross route when she speculates on the taste of a particular portion of Laura or Barbara Bush's anatomy. Revulsion and amusement duke it out.

It's this political and controversial agenda, however, that sets her apart from other comics. It's not just the righteous anger, but the prickly evidence of caring for the downtrodden that captivates the audience and wins undying loyalty. Cho is protective of her adoptive gay community, referring several times to "us" even though she is straight -- surely just a technicality. She has somehow gained honorary membership, enough to taunt her homosexual brethren with impunity.

She also finds fellowship with others on the fringe or misunderstood, painting vegans as formidable (since they're so hungry) and praising Bjork's red carpet swan dress as true fashion because it's not derivative. (In fact, Cho went so far as to wear her own poultry-inspired attire, a peacock ensemble that won her the "worst dressed" title at the Grammys.) Surprisingly, she also defends conservative domestic diva Martha Stewart for merely being a bitch who was successful and didn't deserve to be imprisoned.

Cho is at her best when she's whimsical. She relishes revealing the absurdity of life with equally silly epithets such as "mullet fantasia" or insisting that cotton gin inventor Eli Whitney was also responsible for the cock ring.

She's unafraid to give glimpses into her life, especially her fondness for her mother, who, after a recent heart attack, insisted Cho continue touring so she wouldn't ruin "our career." And that's the real appeal of Margaret Cho: she invites her audience on a personal level into her vulnerabilities. She makes enemies because she's assured of her chosen companions, whom she defends with every word. "Assassin" doesn't exactly slay with its humor since it can't recreate that all-important camaraderie present at the live show. Nevertheless, Cho deserves credit for awakening as well as tickling the brain.