My Borat Abstinence and Amazon’s Many Sins
My knowledge of American pop culture between the summer of 2006 and the fall of 2013 exists in a hazy, fragmented form, like a half-remembered dream. I was living in Tokyo then, navigating the precarious existence of a broke college student and then an underpaid journalist. Entertainment options were limited, and the fear of running afoul of Japan’s notoriously strict internet laws loomed large. Illegally torrenting films became my primary method of movie-watching, a furtive activity that demanded careful selection. Only the most compelling films were worth the risk of a potential cease-and-desist letter. Borat, unfortunately, did not make the cut.
This is why, to this day, I remain largely ignorant of Borat, the character, Borat 2, the sequel film, and the enduring, somewhat baffling, millennial male habit (exemplified by my own husband) of referring to their spouses as "mah waif."
Today, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm made its debut on Amazon Prime Video. I learned this not through some cultural osmosis or social media alert, but because my husband, needing a reprieve from the demands of his work, decided to take the day off specifically to “relax and investigate whether Borat 1 holds up and if Borat 2 is good.” This, I suppose, is the new normal, the pandemic-era reality where movies once destined for the grand stage of the cinema are now quietly released on streaming services.
By 9 a.m., my husband was firmly planted on the couch, clad only in his underwear. His Borat-a-thon had begun.
Outside of the incessant “my waiiiiif” jokes, my direct experience with the Borat phenomenon prior to this morning was limited to a single, deeply unsettling event: a desperate, frantic phone call from my mother in November 2006, shortly after the release of the first Borat movie. A rough transcript of that call is etched in my memory, a testament to the profound impact the film had on her.
“YOU MUST NEVER WATCH THE BORAT MOVIE!!!!!!!” she shrieked. “HAVE YOU HEARD OF THE BORAT MOVIE? I READ A REVIEW AND THEY SAID IT WAS FUNNY SO I WENT TO THE THEATRE. IS THIS WHAT I LEFT KOREA FOR? IS THIS WHAT AMERICA IS? IS THIS WHAT YOUNG PEOPLE LAUGH AT? IS THIS WHAT I SACRIFICED DECADES OF MY LIFE FOR, TO GIVE YOU AN EDUCATION IN A COUNTRY OF DISGRACEFUL, DISRESPECTFUL BUFFOONS? DO YOU HEAR ME CRYING? I AM CRYING BECAUSE THIS IS NOT WHAT THEY TOLD ME AMERICA WAS GOING TO BE LIKE. I DID NOT RAISE YOU TO BE THE TYPE OF PERSON WHO IS DISGUSTING LIKE THIS. I WANT YOU TO HAVE AN ELEGANT LIFE!!! I WANT YOU TO LIVE ELEGANTLY!!!”
It took me approximately twenty minutes to reassure my mother that I had not watched Borat, as it was not yet released in Japan, and that no, Borat – both the character and the film – did not represent the entirety of America. She finally allowed me to hang up after I solemnly promised that I would never, under any circumstances, watch Borat.
For the record, I have kept that promise. A movie that could elicit such a volcanic reaction from my mother has always piqued my curiosity, but I am, at my core, someone who honors their commitments. Reading the Wikipedia synopsis of Borat is a bewildering experience, and I have never managed to make it to the end without my eyes glazing over. Glimpsing inaudible snippets of the film, partially obscured by my husband’s collectible Halo bookend, has somehow left me with even fewer answers than I started with. One could argue that this is a form of promise-breaking, but considering that I continued working throughout the whole ordeal and my husband was listening to the movie via his AirPods Pro, I hardly think “occasionally looking at” qualifies as “watching” the movies.
During his re-watch of Borat 1, I witnessed the following bizarre scenes: Borat chasing a chicken on a New York City subway, Borat wearing a peculiar cowboy hat and an American flag shirt at what appeared to be a rodeo (apparently, he was yelling about Iraq?), Borat walking through a town where people waved at him a lot, Borat creepily watching Pamela Anderson in a hotel room, Borat wrestling an unidentified man in the nude, Borat performing what I believe was a weather forecast, and Borat defecating on Trump Tower.
From these fragmented glimpses, I can somewhat understand why my mother – who has a tenuous grasp on the concept of satire – was so viscerally upset.
“It’s a very short movie, thank God,” my husband declared, finally emerging from the couch and putting on pants. He then proceeded to inform me that "the frat boy scene in the RV" serves as irrefutable proof that MAGA chuds existed long before Donald Trump entered the political arena, that much of contemporary America can be accurately depicted through Borat screencaps even though some of the content hasn’t aged well, and that the key difference between 2006 and 2020 is that "racists now say the quiet part out loud." I’m sure that if I actually watched the movie, I would gain a more comprehensive understanding of how he arrived at that conclusion, but I have managed to remain Borat-free for fourteen years, and I see no compelling reason to break that streak now.
Regarding Borat 2, the only concrete piece of information I possessed prior to today was that Rudy Giuliani was somehow involved. For the sequel, my husband relocated from the living room TV to the "bedroom" TV (our living space is a rather cramped studio apartment). This meant that I had a slightly less obstructed view of the screen, but at least my husband kept his earbuds in, allowing me to continue my day in an un-Boratted state. I mostly glanced back whenever I heard an occasional burst of sharp laughter or an incredulous, "Oh my gawd," emanating from behind me. At one point, I caught a glimpse of Justin Trudeau in blackface. There were also numerous pictures of Donald Trump. At the beginning, there was a monkey dressed in strange outfits.
At one point, someone asks, “Could a woman ever be a journalist?” to which Borat replies, “No, it’s dangerous.” Apparently, one segment involves Borat attempting to sell his daughter to Mike Pence, which entails a trip to a tanning salon and cages? I also believe Borat runs through CPAC dressed as a member of the Ku Klux Klan. While I understand that the glimpses I caught are intended to be exaggerations, the fundamental problem with satire in 2020 is that it has become increasingly difficult to distinguish between what is real and what is a joke.
“It was okay,” my husband said, his tone somewhat underwhelming. “I don’t have as many hot takes about this one, so that should tell you something.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Borat walked so Eric Andre could run.”
“Would I like this movie?” I asked.
“Probably not,” he admitted.
We then engaged in a brief discussion about how this is one of the few new movies that has actually been released this year due to the ongoing pandemic and how, in all likelihood, it will become a defining pop culture moment of 2020 purely due to the lack of competition. “Borat is going to be a Best Picture Oscar contender this year because nothing else came out,” my husband declared, at which point we both fell silent for an extended period.
Having witnessed my husband watch both Borat movies in rapid succession, I have come to the inescapable conclusion that everything that is currently wrong in my life is, in some way, Amazon’s fault. Amazon forced us to reschedule our wedding. Amazon has utterly destroyed my already tenuous grasp on sanity with its terrible Prime Day deals and its egregious crimes against fashion. My editor helpfully reminded me that Amazon also embodies the staggering wealth inequality in America, the brutal, inhuman quantification of the workplace, corporate looting of state and federal coffers through tax avoidance and sweetheart subsidies, and the alarming eagerness of the tech sector to serve the needs of police and military interests.
Most egregiously, Amazon’s streaming service has now inflicted upon me Borat 2 and, by extension, this excruciating blog assignment. I refuse to accept these insults lying down. Therefore, and with a flourish, I say, "Screw you, Jeff Bezos! I am cancelling my Prime membership. That’ll show him."
