The Dictator

THE DICTATOR (Larry Charles, 2012)

With the tyrannical leader in THE DICTATOR pushing for his country to develop a nuclear energy program, the fictional North African nation Wadiya could be the region’s next target of United Nations sanctions and military intervention.  Admiral General Aladeen (Sacha Baron Cohen) insists that such technology would be employed for peaceful purposes.  His giddy denial that nuclear power would absolutely, positively not be used to bomb his hated enemy Israel hardly eases international concerns.

Aladeen travels to New York City to address the UN but soon finds himself on the outside looking in.  Aladeen’s trusted adviser Tamir (Ben Kingsley) arranges for his abduction and murder.  While the magnificently bearded ruler manages to escape from his captor, Aladeen emerges from a literal close shave that renders him unrecognizable as the Wadiyan dictator.  With Aladeen missing and presumed dead, Tamir replaces him with a simpleton look-alike who promises the world community that he will draft a constitution and make Wadiya a democracy.  Tamir will then be free to sell the drilling rights to the country’s highly coveted oil fields, which Aladeen has refused to do.  

When Aladeen makes a scene at a protest, Zoey (Anna Faris) mistakes him for a fellow activist and a political dissident.  Zoey clothes the bedraggled monarch and offers him a job at her Brooklyn co-op.  He initially rejects her offer but accepts after learning that her business is catering the Wadiyan constitution signing ceremony that he hopes to disrupt.  

Baron Cohen’s composite despot changes the language as he sees fit, surrounds himself with female virgin guards, and fills his home and nation with artwork bearing his venerated likeness.  The buffoonish Aladeen is a poke in the eyes of past and present world leaders who abuse power and their people.  There’s nothing funny about this dictator’s real life counterparts, but seeing them mocked provides a touch of catharsis, even if the satire is kind of tame.

Aladeen’s hair trigger orders to execute those who anger him provides the film with one of its best running jokes.  Unknown to him, those he condemns to die are shuttled out of the country, a fact he discovers upon entering an anti-Aladeen restaurant in New York’s Little Wadiya.  Among those who have escaped his wrath are Nadal (Jason Mantzoukas), the former head of his nuclear program now working as an Apple Genius, and a cow who earned his ire.  (The cow ends up served as a steak on a plate, but at least it didn’t meet its end as a political victim, right?)

THE DICTATOR is funniest when at its most outrageous.  A decapitated head used as a puppet is a grotesque highlight.  Aladeen’s rampant racist and sexist declarations, as when he delivers a baby and asks for a trash can upon seeing it’s a girl, bring the edge to Baron Cohen’s style, which seeks to risk, if not welcome, the chance to offend viewers.  He’s most likely to bruise sensibilities when Aladeen draws equivalence between dictatorship and current American politicians and the financially powerful.  One of the most pointed jokes is presented less furiously but is no less sharp.  Aladeen pays for countless celebrities to come to Wadiya and sleep with him, which brings to mind those entertainers who have been in the proverbial beds with oppressive leaders who give them sizable checks.   

Although a fair number of jokes hit their marks, THE DICTATOR tends to be as comedically erratic as Aladeen’s decision-making.  Baron Cohen, his three credited co-screenwriters, and director Larry Charles take a scattershot approach that produces several successes but leads to an often choppy result.  The burgeoning love story between Aladeen and Zoey offers equal opportunity insults by taking progressives down a few pegs but otherwise is an ill fit with the dark humor.  The danger for Baron Cohen is having made his name as a confrontational comedian but delivering something that, while occasionally provocative, feels too conventional.    

Grade: C+

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN (Larry Charles, 2006)

Sacha Baron Cohen is fearless. In BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN, the British comedian makes fools of unsuspecting ordinary Americans (and some unordinary ones) while frequently putting his own wellbeing in danger. As Kazakh television reporter Borat Sagdiyev, Cohen shatters the customs of polite society. He makes horribly racist, sexist, and homophobic comments, but his broken English and guilelessness give him a pass (for awhile) with most he encounters. The character allows him to hold up a mirror to such ridiculous attitudes when his new acquaintances use the openings Borat gives them to express similar beliefs.

Ostensibly a road movie and a fake documentary that the other participants don’t know is fake, BORAT follows the enthusiastic reporter and his obese producer Azamat Bagatov (Ken Davitian) as they journey across the country. Their visit to America is supposed to be limited to New York City, but when Borat stumbles upon an old episode of BAYWATCH on his hotel room television, he switches their plans and sets out for Los Angeles so he can take Pamela Anderson as his wife. Along the way he talks with politicians, an antiques dealer, television anchors, fraternity brothers, and more as he takes the pulse of the United States, particularly the South.

At the risk of using hyperbole, BORAT is one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen. Cohen’s total commitment to the character and control is astonishing. I can’t imagine a more gut-busting and shocking scene than Borat and Azamat’s naked wrestling. Cohen and Davitian go for broke and at least twice manage to top what you expect can’t be topped. While Cohen’s acting may not typify what gets classified as outstanding acting, this is a great performance. In our daily lives we’d find Borat detestable, but on screen, even when being actively mean to undeserving folks, he’s completely likable.

Borat has no boundaries, and much of the humor comes from how he upsets the normal social balance. Whether trying to be friendly with New Yorkers on the subway or southern gentlemen and women at a dinner party, Borat tests the limits of what people will accept before they are offended.

Cohen’s playing the ultimate rube in the big city, but the joke’s on those he meets. On the positive side, BORAT reveals an America where people are happy to accept someone interested in learning about this nation. Although the butts of his jokes, many people are unfailingly polite until Borat exceeds their tolerance for being offended or having personal space invaded. A hotel worker gently corrects Borat when he begins unpacking his belongings in the elevator because he’s under the wrong impression that it is his room.

There’s no doubt that Cohen is pushing his subject’s buttons, and sometimes the results, while a riot, aren’t pretty. Borat highlights American ignorance, particularly when people excuse his most inflammatory words and actions as cultural difference. The more outrageous his statements or deeds, the more someone is willing to chalk it up to the Kazakh way. It doesn’t speak well of our education and beliefs about other cultures when Borat can get away with what he says and does.

Many of the funniest bits are Borat’s interactions with others, but this is a film packed with many less complex laughs. The chicken Borat packs in his luggage is one of the best recurring gags in the film. About the time we’ve forgotten about the animal, it squawks and delivers one of the funniest moments in a movie with wall-to-wall laughs.

Most film comedies, even the good ones, are safe and predictable. Even the “edgy” ones seem too self-conscious in their provocations. BORAT is the rare comedy that operates without a safety net. Cohen and director Larry Charles’ film provides constant laughter and surprises while daring the viewer to be rightfully offended. This is a bold film likely to elicit strong opinions. Put me down on the side of those cracking up even when it feels wrong to be laughing.

Grade: A

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