In discussions of whether or not I was going to see Borat!: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, most people I talked to seemed insulted that I didn’t want to be insulted. Sacha Baron Cohen’s sweet, dimwitted, anti-Semitic, misogynist Kazakh TV journalist is like the unholy hybrid of Punk’d and Jackass, before either existed: he combines outrageous physical gags with the “man on the street” interviews that he forces upon unsuspecting American bystanders. Serves them right for being accommodating, I suppose. The hook that Cohen puts on his character is that, along the way, he exposes the ugly underbelly of American society; the Borat movie was supposed to be the ultimate manifestation of this breed of comedy, and I wanted nothing to do with it. After seeing the film, I’d love to say that I fall in line with the critics and can praise Borat as one of the best comedies of the year, but the theme, the approach, and, indeed, a lot of the jokes, seem too tired to stick.

Here’s the scoop on Borat!: Cohen’s faux-reporter is sent by his government to America to film a documentary about the greatest country in the world. After a few days in New York City, Borat catches a view of Pamela Anderson on a Baywatch rerun and immediately falls in love. He convinces his producer Azamat (Ken Davitian) to trek across the country, capturing the “real America;” Borat’s real motive, of course, is to make it all the way to California and meet and wed Pamela.

Watching Borat travel across the country in a beat up ice cream truck is a funny enough proposition, and his travels do bring up some laughs. But sending Borat after Anderson is akin to giving Jay and Silent Bob the quest of stopping the Bluntman and Chronic movie from being made: given a point, the character can sag at points. When he discovers that Anderson isn’t virginal, Borat gets launched into a short-lived depression. When he’s exposing the prejudices of the American Heartland, Borat is funny; when he’s a fool in love, he loses me.

As for the scenes where Cohen, as Borat, beats up on our American sensibilities: it’s funny, at times gut-bustingly so. In 10-minute increments, the recommended serving of Borat set when he was on Da Ali G Show, the character could be, and probably is, consistently funny. Asked to carry it out over a 90-minute comedy, Cohen resorts to tired bull-in-a-china-shop gags (literally) and full-frontal wrestling to keep his audience distracted. They’ve funny in the “I want to look away, but can’t” way, but that’s not the kind of comedy that the rest of Borat’s antics want to put out.

Is Borat one of the funniest movies of the year? Certainly. Is it one of the smartest, most insightful comedies that’s been through theatres this year? It seems that Cohen wants us to think so, and without the infusion of the gross-out gags could be, but it simply isn’t. Too bad Cohen has now essentially outed himself as Borat to the entire nation, because people will see him coming a mile away, and we won’t get to see him try again.

Rating: * * * of 5

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