Twenty years after his debut, Sacha Baron Cohen’s iconic prankster Ali G has returned inAli G: Who Iz I?. The film finds the character grappling with his own fading relevance while chasing laughter and the approval of a younger audience. Unlike the 2002 filmAli G in Da Housethis project abandons a traditional narrative in favor of a series of live-ammo hoaxes and gross-out humor. The film’s approach to satire is broad and often crass, acting as a high-stakes, sometimes funny, but ultimately uneven exercise in bad taste. Broad and crass as it often is – in fact always is – this Ali G sequel is sometimes funny: the athletic vigour of our hero’s pranking and punking is like the umpteenth Jackass film at which you might find yourself laughing, and Baron Cohen blunders with the semi-intentional force of an XL bully into the issue of whether jokes are still allowed. It is basically another live-ammo series of hoaxes with some spectacular bad taste perpetrated upon the deserving and less deserving; it satirises the shamelessness of anti-woke free speech martyrs, punching up and down with grossout cringe, and the targets include some big names who shouldn’t be revealed here. The dupes are built into a big silly climax fabricated with body doubles and (presumably) covert reshooting. Baron Cohen’s live-ammo prankster is back, 20 years on, but has to battle with his own irrelevance in search of big laughs and the approval of a new generation. Overexcited, Ali and Julie head off to the US to sucker some people in the traditional style; the smallscreen setup blown up to high-def cinematic proportions.
The production features the return of Erran Morad, the sinister Mossad officer seen in the TV seriesWho Is America?alongside a new character, Dr. Nira Cain-N’Degrocello, a white liberal portrayed as a hypocritical critic of cultural appropriation. These characters aid in orchestrating a chaotic, scripted climax. The film’s primary structural weakness lies in its constant need to clarify to the audience who is and is not “in on it,” with disclaimers appearing at the start, middle, and end. This repetition highlights the reality that modern audiences may no longer recognize the character or the intent behind the pranks. Over the closing credits at the end and even briefly in the middle of the action, the insurmountable problem is that the film keeps having to tell you who is and isn’t “in on it”: at the beginning.
The premise follows a down-and-out Ali G who, disapproving of his pregnant partner Julie’s (Morgana Robinson) plans to start an OnlyFans account, attempts to sell his old fax machine. He suddenly receives a job offer from HBO, prompting the pair to travel to the United States to film new material. The plot escalates as his fictional liberal nemesis recruits the Israeli hardman to convince aggressive Republicans that Ali G is a Mexican terrorist attempting to birth a baby on US soil. While the film successfully baits several people, it lacks the singular, high-impact takedowns seen in theBoratsequel.
Interestingly, the film avoids any reference to Tim Westwood, the former BBC Radio 1 hip-hop DJ whose speech patterns were famously considered an influence on the Ali G persona. Critics argue that whereas earlier film outings for characters like Alan Partridge or David Brent succeeded by exploring the melancholy of aging and irrelevance, the revival of Ali G feels tired. The film attempts to shield itself from accusations of racism by introducing a character specifically designed to mock those criticisms, yet for many, the effort may only embolden such concerns. One person who this film doesn’t allude to is Tim Westwood, the BBC Radio 1 hip-hop DJ and son of the Bishop of Peterborough whose speech mannerisms were held to be one influence on Baron Cohen’s great cre, interestingly. You’ll like this less; if you disliked it, you’ll dislike this more; if you suspected it was racist, you’ll be more emboldened to say so – especially as Baron Cohen has dreamed up a whole new character apparently to pre-empt and mock precisely that objection, i f you liked Sacha Baron Cohen’s Ali G the first time around. Well, Ali G was from so very long ago, and even the high-water mark of Baron Cohen’s Borat popularity was quite long ago, and the online media scene now so fragmented that … yes … people have forgotten, a whole new generation doesn’t know.
Ultimately, the film serves as a collection of viral-ready clips, with the best segments likely destined for social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram. As the release settles into public view, the controversy continues to follow the project, with reports of a Republican leader who was embarrassed by the film claiming he intends to sue Sacha Baron Cohen, labeling him a “liar and a pervert.”
