But, be forewarned, “Notorious C.H.O.” is decidedly not for ninnies. If you like being lied to and reassured and placated, this is not the film for you. Cho does the impossible: She makes you laugh about all of the ugliness and injustice in modern-day society. She comes down hard on the self-appointed opinion-makers – the ever-present “in” crowd – and speaks on behalf of the oppressed, a group that seems to keep growing.

As Cho sees it, that includes all women and every possible minority – not only people of different colors, unfashionable sizes and varied sexual orientations, but also, as she puts it so well, “people of intelligence” and “people of integrity.” Cho, speaking from experience, knows full well that any sign of having an alert mind and/or standards is cause for immediate disdain and prejudice. Smart people aren’t liked because smart people are superior.

And so, the Korean American comedian spends most of her 90 minutes or so on stage making threats to already threatened people.

She earns her standing ovation.

Except for a prologue (featuring an interview with Cho’s parents) that was shot in San Francisco during her 37-city North American tour, all of “Notorious C.H.O.” was filmed at Seattle’s cavernous Paramount Theater. This was the location where her first concert film, “I’m the One That I Want,” opened to such success at 1999’s Seattle Film Festival. Cho spent most of her time in that film recounting the humiliating experience of being the first – and last – Asian American woman hired to star in her own sitcom (“All-American Girl”), using the stage platform to vent.

She was clearly angry, but venting was cathartic.

In retrospect – and certainly on the basis of what she achieves in “Notorious C.H.O.” – winning and then losing the sitcom was the best thing that could have happened to Margaret Cho. It gave her the focus that only a few great stand-up comedians (Pryor, Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, Moms Mabley) have had. Most comics are wildly scattered, bouncing from one subject to the next, from one target to the next. But not Cho. Her show is carefully scripted, with the only hint of improvisation coming from her candid delivery. She has a message to get across to the dolts of our society and she doesn’t hedge. One subject seamlessly leads to another, with the show building as it progresses.

Just about everything discussed in “Notorious C.H.O.” is taboo and cannot be quoted in a family newspaper. Cho talks mostly about race and sex, tying in the cultural offshoots of both. And she most obviously speaks as someone from the fringe. The two most influential people in her life, she says, were not her parents but two teenagers – budding drag queens from her high school. They taught her the courage to be herself.

She also tackles such atypical – and risky – subjects as colonic cleansings, eating disorders, depression, negative self-images and positive self-esteem. She’s raunchy; there’s no getting away from that. But she punches it across with her innate innocence, using her sarcastic Valley Girl voice to shrewd effect and often punctuating a revelation or shock with a priceless facial expression. When all else fails, Cho brings her Old World mother into the conversation, doing a letter-perfect impersonation of “Mommy” that contrasts sharply with subject matter not exactly de rigueur.

Honesty seems to pervade here. However, there is one occasion when Cho’s veracity comes into question. When she discusses her bisexuality and talks about the kind of women she prefers, she shouts, “Don’t Sharon Stone me to death! I want a woman who looks like John Goodman!” And in the film’s epilogue, who should pop up but an audience member – a woman – who happens to be a dead-ringer for John Goodman.

This is a little too pat and convenient. It feels like a set-up and is not worthy of the otherwise excellent filmed show that precedes it.