Review: "Borat Subsequent Moviefilm" is Another Rib-Tickler from a Comedy Master

Scene from Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

With the release of Borat Subsequent Moviefilm, Sacha Baron Cohen proves something quite impressive: he is ageless. It has been 14 years since he first brought the character to the big screen and revolutionized comedy with his blend of interrogative fiction. It was unlike anything else, and even revisiting it all of these years later reflects a fascinating yet damning exploration of the Mid-2000s, when War on Terrorism paranoia was at its highest and everyone, no matter how innocent, couldn't escape some memorable reaction to his wild behavior, revealing small ways that America has certain biases that they may be too ashamed to admit.

Cut to 2020, and one thing feels true. Even if Borat hasn't changed, everyone else has. We're living in a time where the question of fact and fiction are more confusing than ever. The Coronavirus has divided the nation, and the idea of prank videos have only gotten worse since the rise of YouTube and various other platforms. The world is catching up, and it raises a certain question about this abrupt sequel: is there a reason for Cohen to pull his most beloved character out of storage, doing his best to tear apart our reality to understand a truth that nobody agrees on? The results are mixed as a result, though what makes this outing worth checking out is the fictional story underneath, a heartwarming yet perverted father/daughter story that comes to symbolize America's own views on feminism. It's not that Borat has grown irrelevant. It's just that, like most of us, his personal fantasy is more compelling than reality. 

As a character, Borat is a lightning rod for bad taste humor. In his first movie, he managed to hit all of the fields from Antisemitism to misogyny. To Cohen's credit, he used the problematic nature to comment on how ridiculous these ideas are. Still, that doesn't mean that he needs to be a profane character, constantly saying offensive things in order to get our attention. At every turn, he repeats this with similar success, attacking America's conservative mentality while doing some downright boneheaded gimmicks. Despite being older, Cohen is just as shameless, willing to joke about people being murdered and turned into furniture, or having a brother whose name reflects a certain problematic political figure. There's no shortage of moments that will catch the viewer off-guard, constantly making them question his audacity. How is he getting away with any of this?

Of course, that plays a bit differently in 2020. Along with commenting on people recognizing Borat as a character, it feels like the world has begun catching up. There is a scene where he asks for a cake with a certain Antisemitic saying. The saying by itself is appalling, but the cake designer has so little reaction that it reflects what is concerning about this movie. The world he exists in has learned to not question his racism. It takes some of the punch away, meaning that Borat has to use his fictional plot to bring the substance this time around. It may mean that most of the sting is gone, but it also means that he gets to create one of his most endearing characters since, well, Borat on Da Ali G Show almost 20 years ago: Tutar Sagdiyev.

The misogyny is on display here, but this time Cohen has decided to grapple with the idea on a more personal level. With an excellent piece of world-building, newcomer Maria Bakalova plays Tutar as the archetype that you'd expect: a tragedy hidden underneath the comedy. She dreams of living in a cage (Kazakhstan's symbol of wealth for women) while reading books about how her body will kill her. She also watches a not-so-subtle parody of Disney's Cinderella titled Melania, which finds her being abused, grabbed by the groin, as she performs a ceremonious dance. At every turn, Tutar feels designed to adore the submissive lifestyle. One would think that this is designed to reflect how this fictional Kazahkstan is backward, and yet Melania symbolizes a bastardization of the American dream, the idea that marrying old rich men is more ideal than personal happiness.

That's the thing about Subsequent Moviefilm. It's more interested in Tutar this time around, and most of Borat's solo adventures are nowhere near as engaging. While he takes time to comment on the pandemic and politics, Cohen feels like he's taking some easy potshots that, frankly, will make the movie dated. As he panders to conservative ideology, he attacks an administration that is a parody of themselves. There's little satisfaction with this approach, making it all feel more like a concerted propaganda film where Borat (this is not a joke) ends the film by asking his audience to vote. That's right, Subsequent Moviefilm is all about making you notice the horrors of modern America so that you can vote. Borat has grown a conscience, people. This isn't just some random survey like the last time around. He wants you to care about the world, and get a few laughs out of it as well.

As mentioned, Tutar is the real star of this story. She is initially created as an object by the Kazakhstani government for Borat to deliver to Mike Pence. It's an attempt to restore value to their "once glorious nation," and it's clear how amusing this scenario is. Tutar doesn't look conventionally attractive. She has to get beauty advice from an Instagram star whose world view is just as dated, suggesting that what men want are still very dated. Slowly the film manages to tie in all of these themes of women's self-worth, and it's especially fun to watch from her perspective. There's an ongoing gag in here reminiscent of the first Jackass movie involving a car. It's a crazy play on words that will determine how much the viewer wants to go along with the insanity. To say the least, it's among the least conventional talks of abortion ever conceived. There's also talk of menstruation and female masturbation that may be too much for some, but only feels justified by its bigger message.

Tutar's story is about evolving from an object into a human with self-worth. Borat's is more of a supporting character, coming to terms with his own Antisemitism and the reality that his mission is failing. If anything, his part drags things down not from lack of commitment, but because it's not as fresh. Everyone has an idea of what to expect. Also, this feels designed solely to attack one target, and it's one that everyone else has for years now. Borat may have his clever jabs and this will give everyone a worthwhile laugh with an inventive political satire, but it's nowhere near as fun, which is a shame. The whole appeal of Borat is that he broke OUR reality and here it feels more like he's asking everyone to enter his. Speaking as a large portion feels complicit, it makes a lot of the impact disappear.

While one has to question what worth Borat has in 2020, it's not from lack of trying. He's still sharp, able to pack a film full of irreverent jokes that are more shocking than the last. The issue is that while Borat was a survey of the American dream, Subsequent Moviefilm is too focused on targets, not allowing as much humanity to shine through. There are some moments, but not enough to balance out the journey. It feels more prodding this time around, and it only works because the punchlines are still brilliant. Maybe it's the absence of director longtime Cohen collaborator Larry Charles, who helped to cement the actor's transition to the cinema quite deftly. In his place is Jason Woliner, who does an admirable job, but again feels more geared towards the joke than the reaction. He's no slouch, but one couldn't help but imagine what the partnership could've brought in 2020, especially given how cartoonish the final 10 minutes become.

Overall, it's great to know that this character isn't long in the tooth. If you liked him before, he will still make you smile. The issue is that he feels more direct this time, less spontaneous in whom he targets for his punchlines. As a result, not a whole lot feels organic or unpredictable. Some of it comes from pop culture being more transparent, but it's also just how the world has evolved. Fact and fiction are difficult to parse anymore, and Borat feels as real as we know he is fake. Like the woman designing the cake, we all have grown numb to people being wildly offensive to the extent that we just grin and bear it. While it could be Cohen's subtext as to why everyone needs to vote, this whole thing feels more geared towards that instead of any punchline. It feels deceitful, which is a shame because most of the time it's a delightful comedy that works. Shame it had to take place in an election year.