It's been years since the first Borat movie dropped and yet, the echoes of "very nice!" and "my wife!" still resonate through pop culture. For those looking to revisit the cringeworthy, hilarious, and often surprisingly poignant journey of Kazakhstan's most famous (or infamous) reporter, you'll be pleased to know that the original 2006 mockumentary, Borat! Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, is currently available to stream on Netflix. This film, a brainchild of Sacha Baron Cohen's character from HBO's "Da Ali G Show," plunges us headfirst into the mind of Borat Sagdiyev as he embarks on a quest to document American culture. What makes this film so utterly captivating, in my opinion, is its audacious premise: a seemingly clueless foreign journalist interacting with unsuspecting Americans, revealing their unfiltered reactions and, often, their own absurdities. The sheer audacity of Cohen's approach, using real people who genuinely believe Borat is a genuine reporter, is what elevates it beyond a simple comedy. It’s a social experiment disguised as a movie, and the results are nothing short of spectacular, albeit often deeply uncomfortable.
What strikes me most about the filming of the original Borat is the sheer chaos reported to have surrounded its production. The whispers of the police being called nearly 100 times during the 2005 shoot aren't just anecdotes; they speak to the profound disruption and confusion Borat's character injected into everyday American life. Personally, I think this highlights a core truth about Cohen's genius: he doesn't just provoke; he unearths. By creating a character so outlandish, he forces people to confront their own biases, their own politeness, and their own capacity for both kindness and outright prejudice. The film’s narrative, loosely following Borat's obsession with Pamela Anderson after seeing an episode of "Baywatch," is merely a vehicle for him to traverse the American landscape, from vibrant gay pride parades to the hushed halls of Southern supper clubs. Each encounter, while scripted in its overall arc, is brimming with genuine, unscripted reactions that are both hilarious and deeply revealing.
Then came Borat Subsequent Moviefilm in 2020, a sequel that, against all odds, managed to recapture the magic and even, dare I say, surpass its predecessor. Released during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic and a period of intense political polarization, this Amazon Studios production felt less like a simple follow-up and more like a necessary cultural intervention. The introduction of Maria Bakalova as Tutar, Borat's daughter, was a stroke of absolute brilliance. Her performance is so nuanced, so committed, that she becomes the emotional anchor of the film, allowing Cohen's Borat to explore even more complex and sensitive themes. The premise of delivering a "prodigious bribe" to the "American regime" during the Trump administration provided fertile ground for Cohen to once again dissect the political and social landscape, this time with an even sharper, more urgent edge. The scene involving Rudy Giuliani, for instance, is a masterclass in comedic tension and exposes a level of audacity that is, frankly, breathtaking.
From my perspective, the enduring appeal of Borat lies in its ability to hold a mirror up to society, reflecting back our own follies and foibles with unflinching honesty. While the idea of a third Borat film seems unlikely, the legacy of these two movies is undeniable. They've not only given us iconic catchphrases but have also fundamentally altered the way we think about documentary filmmaking and the power of satire. If you're looking for a film that will make you laugh, cringe, and think deeply about the world around you, then revisiting Borat on Netflix or its sequel on Amazon Prime Video is an absolute must. It’s a testament to Sacha Baron Cohen's unique brand of humor that these films continue to feel so relevant and so impactful, even years after their initial release. What else could possibly be as entertaining and insightful as watching a fictional character expose the real-world absurdities we often overlook?
