Ali G Back in Da House

It always bugs me when reviewers begin by recounting when they first heard about the creator in question, so forgive me for indulging in the same, but it is relevant: I first saw Da Ali G Show characters in the early aughts in the UK, and I found it outrageously funny. For those few who don’t know, Sasha Baron Cohen created three fake journalists for the series — the antisemitic, misogynist Borat; the insensitive fashionista Brüno; and the epically clueless Ali G.

To my mind, Ali G was the funniest, both on the BBC and HBO series and in the subsequent movies. His abject stupidity was delicious, and even if some accused Baron Cohen of racism for Ali G’s way of speaking — a pastiche of London vernacular and Jamaican English — I always thought the bit was that Ali G was too stupid to realize he was not Black. Either way, Ali G managed, with his faux naivete, to expose the prejudices of an astonishing array of notables in the UK and US. (Except, parenthetically, for Tony Benn, the born-into-the-nobility British socialist, who provided a masterclass in sticking to one’s ethical guns.)

A quarter-century after Baron Cohen first premiered the character, he returns in Ali G: Who Iz I? The premise this time is Ali G trying to restart his TV career. He’s broke and living in his dead grandmother’s house in Staines, England. His girlfriend Julie (Morgana Robinson) is heavily pregnant, and he can’t even hang onto his job as the world’s worst zookeeper.

Ali G: Who Iz I? ★★★★ (4/5 stars)
Directed by: Sacha Baron Cohen
Written by: Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Peter Baynham, Dan Swimer, Dan Mazer, Keisha Zollar
Starring: Sacha Baron Cohen, Morgana Robinson,
Running time: 89 mins

I want to be careful about spoilers — the movie showed in theaters for one weekend in late October but is almost immediately streaming on Amazon — so I will only say that Ali G, believing there’s another HBO show in the works, heads to LA with Julie. The antagonist is another Baron Cohen character, the overly woke Dr. Nira Cain-N’Degeocello, who will stop at nothing to ensure that the “cultural appropriator” Ali G gets cancelled — both the person and the series. Baron Cohen’s lunatic Israeli creation, Erran Morad, also has a role.

What follows is essentially a series of elaborate pranks designed to highlight the excesses of the American left and right. Dr. Nira’s unwitting helpers will do absurd, illegal, horrible things to prove Ali G isn’t Black. Erran Morad’s recruits will stop at nothing — including infanticide — to prevent what they believe is a Mexican “anchor baby” from being born on American soil. And Baron Cohen exhibits his usual gift for masterminding appearances from awful people like George Santos, Rachel Dolezal, and Newt Gingrich.

There are also several excellent set pieces. I’m afraid I can’t reveal more than stating that Ali G’s apology video was a reminder of how good Baron Cohen is at getting you to laugh while making you wonder if it’s okay to laugh at the thing you’re laughing at.

But I also watched the movie with unease. I counted three feces-related pranks, and while I have zero sympathy for some of the victims, I found one instance discomforting. There’s a scene where Julie goes to look at a mansion with a real estate agent and Ali G has to reveal that they don’t, in fact, have any money coming in. The hapless agent is maneuvered into acting as the go-between for Ali G and Julie, relating increasingly rude and admittedly funny messages. But at one point, when the agent returns to Ali G, the latter has gone from merely sitting distraught on the toilet with his head in hands, to sitting on the toilet with his pants around his ankles, audibly relieving himself.

Baron Cohen is expert at staying in character, even when it might become dangerous for him. But this is the only time I can recall seeing him break, when he’s basically arranged for someone to watch him take a shit. And this guy isn’t a racist “patriot” or an overeager “social justice warrior.” He’s just a realtor doing his job.

For many years, Baron Cohen has been running a kind of Milgram experiment on the American and British psyches. And for many years, I have happily enjoyed his enormous comic gifts. But maybe I’m getting old, or maybe I’m just worn out by the coarsening of public discourse. I found much to enjoy in this movie, but at the same time I was left wondering why Baron Cohen’s satire so often spills into cruelty.