"Keep it real" says Ali G (Sacha Baron Cohen) at the top of each show. Keeping it real is what the British comedian does--and doesn't do--during each episode. First, there's the character of Ali G himself. There's nothing real about this slang-slinging geezer. He's a poser, a white hip-hop wannabe from the 'burbs who aspires to be "gangsta" like Biggie and Tupac. His interview subjects, on the other hand, are the real deal: Newt Gingrich, Buzz Aldrin, Donald Trump, etc. Ali asks stupid questions, they attempt to provide intelligent answers. The humor comes from the disconnect between the two, which is to say: 60 Minutes meets In Living Color. Da Ali G Show was a hit in Britain before Cohen brought his act to the States, but Ali wasn't the only character who came with him. There's also Borat, a Kazakhstan TV reporter with a shaky command of English. His show-within-a-show is called "Borat's Guide to America" and he travels the "US and A" interviewing regular folks, such as matchmakers and rodeo riders. Then there's Bruno, a sexually ambiguous fashion reporter with "Funkyzeit Mit Bruno." His subjects include models and designers. Borat and Bruno have their moments, but Ali G is the star of the show and gets the most screen time. It's Ali G, after all, who gets both James Lipton and Ralph Nader to rap. (The verdict? Lipton's got skills; Nader should stick to politics.) As proof of his popularity in the U.K., Ali G got his own theatrical release, Ali G Indahouse in 2002. As proof of his popularity in the U.S., HBO renewed his show for a second season. Due to sexual content, raunchy humor, and drug content, Da Ali G Show is recommended for mature audiences. --Kathleen C. Fennessy
If there's such a thing as surreality TV, then Sacha Baron Cohen is da man, and Da Ali G Show is da bomb. Better known as his alter egos Ali G (the "wanskta" journalist), Borat (the clueless correspondent from Kazakhstan), and Bruno (the gay Austrian fashionista), Cohen is consistently hilarious in the six episodes (on two discs) from the second (2003) season of his HBO show. With his cracked Cockney-Rasta patois ("does you 'tink ") and constant malapropisms (confusing "incest" with "incense" and "bi-lingual" with "bi-sexual"; calling MIT linguistics professor Noam Chomsky "Norman"), Ali G is the star. But so is the odd and, well, surreal assortment of folks he interviews in his relentless, "Candid Camera"-goes-hip-hop assault on the idiots and idiosyncrasies of American culture and politics. Some are at least partly complicit; Pat Buchanan, of all people, plays right along with the shtick, as does Immigration and Naturalization Service chief James Ziegler. Others are merely confused, like the doc who grows increasingly frustrated by Ali's inability to differentiate between "veteran" and "veterinarian," newsman Sam Donaldson, or former LAPD chief Daryl Gates. But as absurd as Da Ali G Show gets, this isn't Jackass, and Cohen is no dummy. Along with all the goofing are some shrewd questions about abortion, teaching religion in schools, Iraq, and homeland security, to name a few ("How come there ain't no security on trains?" Ali G asks Ziegler, who laughs off the question and then came the Madrid and London subway bombings). With a generous helping of extras (including Ali's commencement speech at Harvard!) along with the episodes, Da Ali G Show is a riot. Fuh real, yo. --Sam Graham