The former attorney general is simply one in a long line of earnest public figures–including Newt Gingrich, Buzz Aldrin and Ralph Nader–who’ve been ambushed by comedian Sacha Baron Cohen, 32, and his alter ego Ali G. Cohen, a white Jewish boy who attended Cambridge University, has been baffling interviewees and entertaining U.K. viewers since “Da Ali G Show” first aired on Britain’s Channel 4 in 2000. Ali G asks whatever pops into his spectacularly uninformed head; his well-crafted cluelessness has made him Britain’s favorite comedian. Ali G now stars in his own hit film, “Ali G Indahouse,” has sold warehouses full of DVDs of his shows and is the proud author of a new book, “Da Gospel According to Ali G.” It has his version of the Ten Commandments: “Do not diss Tupac. Respect your Nan,” and samples of his schoolwork, including a historical essay: “It iz 1983 and de Vietnams war iz still goin strong…”
Now Americans can witness the spectacle for themselves when “Da Ali G Show” premieres on HBO this Friday night. The variety show includes monologues by G himself, performances by music-video-style hoochie dancers and segments by Cohen’s other characters–the painfully awkward Kazakh TV interviewer Borat and the flamboyant Austrian fashion reporter Bruno. Like Ali G, all Cohen’s characters have a knack for getting real people to answer the most inappropriate questions. (“Will you have sexy intercourse with me?” Borat asks a dating-service consultant.) Yet somehow, Cohen manages to keep his stunned and sometimes perturbed victims engaged–long enough, at least, to string together interviews and on-the-spot “reporting” into a half-hour show. His new material for HBO has a plethora of embarrassing moments. Speaking in his trademark U.K. ghetto slang (a Brit/East Indian accent, peppered with hip-hop-isms), he asks Newt Gingrich if he thinks there’ll ever be a female president. Yes, says Gingrich. “Aren’t you worried she would spend all her time shopping for shoes and getting facials?” Ali G asks. “No,” Gingrich says thoughtfully, “I don’t think that would be a danger.” Then there’s the sit-down with Buzz Aldrin, where Ali G asks, “What was it like to be da second man to walk on da sun?” In a round-table discussion on religion with a professor from Georgetown, a rabbi and a Roman Catholic priest, Ali G remarks to the priest that it’s quite a coincidence Jesus was born on Christmas Day, and asks the rabbi, “Why does you lot chop one nut off?”
Cohen grew up in the upscale suburbs of north London and studied history at Cambridge’s Christ’s College; in early stand-up routines, he often dressed as a rabbi. He broke into TV in the mid-’90s as the annoyingly effervescent host of such kids’ shows as “Pump TV” and “F2F,” but got his big break when Channel 4’s “11 O’Clock Show” discovered a tape of him conducting interviews as an Albanian reporter. Ali G was developed for the same program. His confusing racial identity–“Is it ‘cause I is black?” he’ll ask a recalcitrant subject–has led some politically sensitive Britons to call him “the new Al Jolson.” But it’s hard to decide if Ali G is an updated minstrel comic, a parody of minstrelsy, a critique of white Tupac wanna-bes, a riff on multiethnic marketing–or what. That’s clearly how he wants it.
After humiliating so many interview subjects himself, it’s understandable that Cohen rarely agrees to be on the other side of the mike, and will answer questions only as Ali G. When he spoke on the phone with NEWSWEEK from London, his answers were perfectly in character. Will he ever move to America? “Is dere Jacuzzi dere?” What do you hope to achieve? “Me hopes my new show will increase understanding between the peoples, lead to world peace and also give me da opportunity to have a one-off with a couple of fly Playboy Mansion bitches dat is way out of my league.”
One reason Ali G is going stateside is that he’s become such a recognizable personality in Britain, it’s nearly impossible for his production team to find unsuspecting interview subjects. Most Americans’ only exposure to him has been his cameo as the star-struck driver in Madonna’s “Music” video. So far, Cohen and his team have had no problem landing interviews with James Baker and ex-CIA head James Woolsey for the six-episode HBO series. The M.O. that Cohen and his writing partner/producer Dan Mazer use to land such fish is top secret. Some victims say that when they were approached, Ali G was represented as a reporter making educational programs for children; an aide to Gingrich said the show was called “a way of appealing to young people.” Even when subjects do sit down with Ali G, Borat or Bruno, it doesn’t always go smoothly. Nader’s people were so furious after Ali G got him to rap during an interview that one aide reportedly said it might be grounds for a lawsuit. There have been walkouts–and worse. At a white-supremacist rally in Georgia, Bruno asked one participant if neo-Nazis used moisturizer. The guy attacked the cameraman, then reached for a gun. Most of the people Ali G interviews are reluctant to call him an idiot. They’re often intimidated by his youthful, hip language, his pseudo street demeanor and his tendency to mention “racialism” whenever things aren’t going his way. It’s all alien to relics like Al Haig and Ed Meese–both victims–or the United Nations representative who recently gave the “reporter” a tour. Ali G pointed to a seat marked jordan: “Ain’t it stupid to let one sportsman have his own seat? No matter how powerful he is?” U.N. official: “That is not Michael Jordan, it is the state of Jordan.” Ali G: “Innit ridiculous to let one person have the same power as a whole country?” U.N.: “It isn’t. It’s a state.” Ali G: Is it named after Michael Jordan? Is it a real country?" When Ali G gets through with us, we may be asking the same question.
