Starring: Martin Lawrence, Nia Long, Elton LeBlanc, Emily Procter, Mark Moses. Rated PG-13.

Note: In “Beyond Blunderdome,” an episode of The Simpsons featuring Mel Gibson, it is revealed that Homer sends fan letters to movies – not actors, not directors, but the movies themselves. Following in that glorious tradition, I have chosen to send an open letter to the new Martin Lawrence movie, Big Momma’s House 2.

Dear Big Momma’s House 2,

Let me start by saying that it’s been too long. Six years have passed since Big Momma’s House became the first movie about a cross-dressing septuagenarian wearing a prosthetic fat suit to gross more than $200 million in the theaters. I always knew you’d come back, but I never thought it would take this long. No matter. Grab a cup of tea and have a seat. There should be a free chair right between Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo and Air Bud 2.

Why are they here, you ask? Oh, simple. They are movies with no ostensible reason to exist – just like you! Don’t cry, Momma. You’re going to attract plenty of paying customers, and that’s the point, isn’t it? I think we can both agree that there was no artistic need for a sequel to Big Momma’s House, but here you are, wringing laughs out of all those rolls of fake blubber.

Needless to say, Mr. Lawrence is thrilled that you’re back, and he has an interesting theory about why you stayed away for so long. “First and foremost, the ingredients for a sequel had to be right,” he says in your press notes. “The script had to be funny. Very funny. And fortunately, it was.” See! You’ve already made one person very happy and, most likely, very rich. And he’s earned every penny – after all, Mr. Lawrence is pretty much the only thing you have to offer. Last time around, you had heavy hitters like Paul Giamatti, Terrence Howard and Anthony Anderson to help carry the load, but Big Momma’s House 2 is all Martin. And after duds like Black Knight, National Security and Rebound, it was clear that he needed you as much as you needed him.

So here you are, together again, with some flimsy story about an evil computer hacker who represents a vague terrorist threat. Mr. Lawrence poses as a nanny to infiltrate the bad guy’s home, earning him the unenviable task of caring for three crazy white kids. One of them, the boy, he has this funny habit of falling down! His younger daughter? Get this – she knocks things over. And the eldest is played by Kat Dennings, from The 40-Year-Old Virgin. She’s pretty easy on the eyes.

What about Big Momma? Glad you asked. She falls down a lot, too, because nothing tickles the funny bone more than a fat person taking a big spill. She also gets to cavort with a few scantily clad hotties at the day spa, and the sexual tension is priceless. Then she dons an outrageously tight bathing suit and runs across the beach like Bo Derek in 10 – only Bo Derek’s ass wasn’t the size of a Buick. Hilarious!

This is high-minded stuff, so I can tell why it took Mr. Lawrence so long to find the right script. And his patience paid off, because someone’s going to love you. Who? Gee, I don’t know. You might appeal to the drag-queen demographic, and to fat-suit fetishists. I’d consider recommending you to agoraphobics – just to get them out of the house, you know – but I’m afraid you might scare them back into seclusion. Come to think of it, I don’t know anybody who could possibly appreciate you, but take heart. The people who made Big Momma’s House a box-office smash probably don't have much use for movie critics, anyway.