A Lesson Before Dying

A man walks into a gun shop. Holding a clipboard to his chest, he gazes around the stocked shelves, then steps awkwardly toward the counter and store manager behind it. He is wearing an old gray suit. His hair has been combed into a tall bouffant; his mustache lays across his face like a caterpillar waiting for winter. "What is best gun to defend from Jew?" he asks. The manager looks at the man and then the camera behind him. "I would recommend a 9mm or a .45," the manager says, pulling a gold plated gun out from behind the counter. He hands it over. "I feel like American movie star Dirty Harold," the man says pointing and aiming the gun. "Go ahead, make my day, Jew." 

Because of this scene and dozens of others like it, British TV star Sascha Baron Cohen, who portrays Borat, is being sued by a growing list of individuals and a village in Romania. In the feature-length film where these scenes take place, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, Cohen's character is an anti-Semitic, xenophobic and trouble-causing journalist from an Eastern European country. The film follows Borat as he travels from Kazakhstan to the United States while reporting on the racial prejudice, homophobia and cultural intolerance of Americans. 

He insists scenes like the one above and other similar situations, including one where an American car salesman suggests buying a Hummer when asked what kind of car is a "p---y magnet," are not without purpose. By "using humor to unmask the absurd and irrational side of anti-Semitism and other phobias born of ignorance and fear," Cohen says he is teaching a lesson and making a palatable form of social commentary for today's generation (Statement). 

With ticket prices being what they are today, rarely do I go to a movie unless I find it immediately interesting or exciting after a preview. It must say something about the movie then, or or maybe it says something about me, that I have seen Borat four times. Do I need to get a life? Probably. Did I think upon seeing the first previews that the obvious inappropriateness would be hilarious? Yes. But what really interested me was a Rolling Stone article published shortly after the movie's release that revealed the intent of Sascha Baron Cohen's character in manipulating the system in order to capture the stupidity of the human race on film. In an interview with Neil Strauss, Cohen says, "Borat essentially works as a tool...By himself being anti-Semitic, he lets other people lower their guard and expose their own prejudice, whether it's anti-Semitism, or an acceptance of anti-Semitism." 

I get it. He is playing the ringer here. By saying women have brains the size of squirrels or saying his country supports America's "war of terror" he is giving his interviewees the rope to hang themselves with and seeing if they take the leap. I get that, and I was intrigued. And so I, along with a great majority of young Americans, sat in the audience and waited for a revelation and indictment against all that was wrong with the world while watching a man with a mustache and an appreciation for Baywatch.

Four tickets later, I still find myself sitting in the audience with my large popcorn and Dr. Pepper, waiting for the part when Mr. Cohen performs a solid good for mankind. And once again, I walked out disappointed.

What does he mean to say about humanity, by filming a former U.S. senator choking down a piece of cheese Borat insists his wife made from the milk "of her own tit"? Does it really take a man who brings his own feces to a dinner table in Georgia, or tries to kidnap Pamela Anderson in California, to teach us right from wrong?

I understand the idea that perhaps he think this is the way to teach lessons to a board and over-stimulated generation who could make a difference, if only they cared. But it is the people who don't see the movie because they think it is too obscene, childish or inappropriate -- like the man at the rodeo who says he's afraid of all Muslims with "bombs under their turbans" and the man who suggests a .45 is the best gun to shoot Jews -- who are the ones who really need this kind of lesson. And right now they are the ones who are so pissed off they've been duped into saying something offensive on camera, that instead of seeing the light they're seeing red -- starting lawsuits or thinking that because Borat didn't disagree with them during his interviews he must believe what they have to say. 

I don't blame them, and I don't feel inspired or enlightened, either. I feel dumber because the producers of this film think the only way to get a point across is by spoon-feeding the audience a life lesson during an obscene comedy. What next? Will Smokey the Bear have to rape a complacent RV-owning, environment-degrading camper? Will McGruff have to rent out the Special Victim Unit's collection of porn to teach the next generation a lesson? Where does it end?

In my opinion, movies like Syriana and Babel -- which appeal to a person's intelligence while portraying lessons we can apply to our own lives is something Hollywood should strive for. Case in point: a good friend of mine, we'll call her LIz, is a senior in high school. She listens to punk rock music, is an active member of Facebook and thought both Jackass movies were hilarious. Although female, I imagine her to fit one of the demographics Cohen was aiming for when making his "mockumentary." After seeing the movie Syriana, she gave up her car and walked and rode her bike everywhere -- encouraging friends and family to do the same to decrease the amount of fuel they consumed. She wrote letters to Congress and the Senate. Even though it's December, she still rides her bike and carpools. She says she was inspired by George Clooney's character and his Hollywood stance of making movies "with a message." She saw Borat the weekend it came out. She admits that there were some funny parts -- but she in no way feels compelled to do something about America's apparent capacity for cruelty or fixation with looking acceptable on camera.

Nobody likes to be on the receiving end of a prank or joke. While a lot of the "victims" Borat captures on film only end up proving these jokes have a reason to be made, the ends to not justify the means in that the movie has no redeeming social value. Despite what Cohen says about wanting to teach a social studies lesson, he ultimately fails because he not only alienates the people in his film -- but the audience as well, because he assumes most of us to be moronic.

As Borat says in his movie's trailer, "my country send me to United States to make movie-film ... if it not success, I will be execute." I think we know what to do.

Luther Review | 
Art | Paul Beatty

"Statement On The Comedy of Sascha Baron Cohen, A.K.A. 'Borat.'" 
The Anti-Defimation League. 28 Sept. 2006.

Strauss, Neil. "The Man Behind the Mustache." 
Rolling Stone. 14 Nov. 2006. 45+