Borat Review (Sunday Business Post)

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan
Dir: Larry Charles
Cert: 16

The scene opens on a shot of an oversized puppet dressed as an Orthodox Jew being chased down the streets of Kazakhstan by a frenzied crowd. From behind the safety barriers, a giddy reporter in an unlikely moustache explains that this is the ‘Running of the Jew’, Almaty’s supposed annual festival. The doomed effigy suddenly stops. ‘She is going to lay a Jew egg!’, our guide exlaims shrilly. ‘Quick, crush it before it hatches.’ As the mob close in, Borat turns to a specator, holding up an open palm, “High Five!” Meet Borat Sagdiyev, sixth-best reporter in all of Kazakhstan.
Even for those familiar with the outrageous antics of TV comedian Sacha Baron Cohen, the vehicle for his present incarnation as the sexist, anti-semetic and perverted Borat is bound to bombard the most galvanised of sensibilities. Yet for cynics who tire of the political correctness of our times, this may be the funniest film of the year.
A string of pearls held together by cheap thread, the film can’t be judged seriously in terms of character or story. Shot mockumentary-style, it follows Kazakh journalist Borat as he is sent to film a special report from America. Only days in New York however, he catches a Baywatch re-run on TV and falls in love. Convincing his producer that they will learn more about the country from a road trip, the course is set for the the home of Pamela Anderson. In reality though, this pretence of a ‘plot’ is just a wire coat hanger for the technicolour dreamcoat that is Borat’s series of monumental faux pas.
As Borat, Cohen parades as a seemingly innocuous and ignorant Eastern European with broken English. Presented with such a charming simpleton, his real-life guests are duped into appearing on his programme to explain how things work in America. Of course, the results are simultaneously terrifying and hilarious.
Take, for example, the gun store employee who’s asked which firearm would be most suitable for killing Jews. “That would be the 9mm or the .38 Special” comes an unflinching response. When Borat proudly tells a leather-faced cowboy that in Kazakhstan gays are rounded up and burned, the conspiratorial wink and reply is stomach-churning: ‘That’s what we’d like to do here.” From frat-boys to feminists, the responses he gets provoke cringeing and howling in equal measure.
The film does make a few wrong steps; one or two of the setups are very reminiscent of material he used with his former creation, Ali G. A few others just aren’t funny enough. Without an unwitting victim to hand, Cohen’s genius can sometimes stoop to the comedy nadir of Jackass-type toilet humour.
Happily, there are more giggles than gross-out moments. Leave mother at home and enjoy Borat through a fan of fingers with a sense of guilty pleasure.

****