Very Nice: An Analysis of Sacha Baron Cohen’s Borat
Kristin Stokes
Maria Dmitrienko had just won a gold medal at the 2012 Arab Shooting Championship inKuwait when, as she stood proud and medalclad on a podium among the other winners, her fervor waned in the face of a horrible mistake. And when no one else noticed, Dmitrienko remained, hand over heart, as the incorrect national anthem erupted from the speaker. The song, with evidently unsuspicious english lyrics, trumpeted Kazakhstan as the “number one exporter of Potassium,” the origin of the “cleanest prostitutes in the region,” and possessing a leader with a “mighty penis.” For two minutes, Dmitrienko shifted awkwardly as the event’s organizers mistakenly played Sacha Baron Cohen’s parody anthem from a movie that was, ironically, banned in her country.
Released in 2006, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan was written and produced by UK comedian Sacha Baron Cohen, who also plays the main character, Borat Sagdiyev, a reporter traveling crosscountry with the fictitious intent of documenting American culture for his home country of Kazakhstan. A collection of interviews and interactions with actual Americans, Borat received acclaim from comedians, film critics, and the western world for its raunchy humor and outrageous situations. The film garnered a nomination for Best Motion Picture: Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, won Best Comedy Movie from the Broadcast Film Association, and Baron Cohen received a Golden Globe for Best Actor: Musical or Comedy (Blouke). Borat, himself, was hailed GQ Magazine’s Man of the Year. And while the movie enjoyed critical and box office success, it is probably best known for inciting lawsuits, diplomatic fumbles, countrywide banning, and numerous police reports, as Baron Cohen’s character embodies every possible stereotype of the backwards foreigner coupled with especially anti-Semitic and sexist views.
Genre
Since its release, Borat has often been touted as a “mockumentary:” a film that poses as a traditional documentary, in which both the documenter and and documented are aware of its falsehood. However, this genre proves insufficient for a film where most of the “actors” aren’t privy to the joke. At the same time, the fictional frame narrative and main character disqualify it from being categorized as a documentary. Borat proves itself elusive of genre; however it is this ambiguous quality, rising from the very real interactions between a fictional character and unsuspecting Americans, that makes the film so effective.
While watching Borat, one is most surprised at--aside from the several minute nude wrestling scene--the brazen attitudes of Americans involved. When Borat asks “what is the best gun to defend from Jew?” the gunshop owner promptly suggests either a nine millimeter or a “fortyfive.” A GM car salesman later recommends a Corvette or Hummer to the reporter when he asks which car attracts women who “shave down below.” And if one gets the impression that those interviewed would probably not have said these things if they knew it would be an award winning movie in both the US and UK, you are absolutely right. Following release, Borat received numerous lawsuits from those involved, arguing that the film was not the “documentarystyle” movie for which they had signed waivers, calling the film’s genre into question. All of these lawsuits failed, suggesting that legally, at least, it was; however, it is important to analyze the way this deliberately misleading phrase influenced the movie.
Borat deliberately blurs the lines between reality and fiction. And while viewers of the film can obviously see the humor in the outrageous character, it is important to remember that interviewees took him seriously. For both the gunshop owner and car salesman, a “documentarystyle” movie implied a certain amount of truth, and while clearly inappropriate, they genuinely answered the questions of what they perceived to be a confused foreigner. In this sense, the misleading nature of the film is almost negligible in terms of eliciting truth. The very real nature of these exchanges suggests an honesty from Americans when faced with Borat, a character so convincing that he makes his way onto a local morning news segment; however, these lawsuits suggest something interesting about language: that context matters.
When the boozy frat boys--who were filmed advocating slavery--filed suit, they claimed that both the perceived real Borat and producers promised the film would never be shown in the US. Interestingly, this geographical distinction was, for the men, central to their behavior, and perhaps a microcosm of the nature of truth telling. As satire often seeks to do, Borat, although under false pretences, elicits truth from the people in his film and brings their darkest prejudices and attitudes to light. This instance also further proves that truth is both slippery and relative. In those interactions with Borat, the men revealed opinions that would not otherwise be uttered, much less in front of millions of American moviegoers. Borat, in all his perceived prejudices, offers interviewees an opportunity to lower their guard and join in.
Making Fun of Who?
The film begins with Borat casually walking through his native village, introducing its members: the town rapist, the “mechanic and abortionist”, and a “pain in [his] assholes” neighbor that can’t afford a clock radio. He then introducesand makes out withhis sister, the “number four prostitute in all of Kazakhstan.” In broken English and a vaguely Russian accent, Borat presents viewers with a Kazahstan constructed of prejudices where an event called “The Running of the Jew” takes place. And while it may, on the surface, seem that Baron Cohen seeks to criticize the country, it is important to note the ways he criticizes the viewer by constructing a foreign country that is, as Dickie Wallace notes, “familiarly exotic.”
A country chosen primarily for its nearly unknown nature in America, Kazakhstan acts as an object onto which Baron Cohen projects all the western stereotypes of a backward eastern nation, and according to Baron Cohen, “The joke is not on Kazakhstan. I think the joke is on people who can believe the Kazakhstan that I describe can exist” (Akbar). For the interviewees, Borat encapsulates all of these stereotypes and the prejudice lies in their readiness to believe the character. When Borat attends a dinner attempting to learn etiquette, he excuses himself to use the restroom, only to return to the table with a bag of his feces. Rather than question the shocking behavior, one of the women takes the time to explain the specs of the toilet, toilet paper, and wiping. For this woman, the idea of a foreigner who didn’t understand how to wipe himself and brought feces to the dinner table was entirely possible and accepted, pointing to both a western assumption of superiority and of eastern “otherness.”
Baron Cohen further highlights this general othering of eastern nations at a Virginia rodeo. Invited to sing the national anthem, Borat stands center stage in an American flag shirt, shouting support for the “war of terror,” and is met with thunderous applause at the hope that “George Bush drink the blood of every single man, woman, and child of Iraq.” In an act of solidarity, Borat then sings the (fake) Kazakh national anthem to the tune of The Star Spangled Banner; however, he is immediately booed, and at this very real rodeo, Barot nearly incites a riot of bigoted Americans before the police are called. In this scene, Borat draws a very distinct line between “them” and “us,” and reveals the violent attitudes aroused by appeals to this rhetoric. This interaction also suggests a superiority complex within the American psyche as the audience boos in an effort to distinguish itself from Kazakhstaneven a fake one.
In a Time article published shortly after the movie’s release titled “Borat Make Funny Joke on Idiot Americans! High Five!” Joel Stein criticizes the interviewees for not only this American othering of Kazakhstan, but for also neglecting to rebuke the horrifying attitudes of this perceived true country. According to Stein, “You’re the idiot who believes so much in cultural relativism that you’ll nod politely when a guy tells you that in his country they keep developmentally disabled people in cages.” And polite nods are often what Borat receives in response to largely sexist, xenophobic, and anti-Semitic statements. In one scene, the reporter sings “Throw the Jew Down the Well” in a country/western bar in Phoenix, Arizona; instead of polite nods, Borat reaps an audience that sings and claps along.
An Orthodox Jew himself, Baron Cohen suggests that “Borat essentially works as a tool. By himself being anti-Semitic, he lets people lower their guard and expose their own prejudices, whether it’s anti-Semitic or an acceptance of anti-Semitism” (Akbar). Like Stein, Baron Cohen points to a problem of cultural relativism or pure apathy in the continued acceptance of prejudice, and while the majority of those interviewed in Borat resist engaging in the xenophobic or sexist views expressed by the main character, fewer attempt to dispel them. Unironically, this American appeal to cultural relativism for the sake of politeness is exemplified by an interview with an etiquette expert who, when asked how much to tip prostitutes, awkwardly suggests between ten and twenty percent.
The Real Kazakhstan
In anticipation of the 2006 release of Borat, Kazakh officials were generally outraged at the movie’s depiction of their people and government and actively sought to counter the movie that, according to Kazakh Foreign Ministry spokesman Yerzhan Ashykbayev, was an “utterly unacceptable...concoction of bad taste and ill manners” (Blouke). To counter Borat’s claimsfor instance, that local wine was made from horse urinethe country of Kazakhstan ran a four page advertisement in the New York Times trumpeting its education system, tolerance, and, strangely, the large wolf population; however, this ad did little more than create more buzz surrounding Baron Cohen’s movie. Kazakh officials removed Baron Cohen’s Kazakh website and even threatened the comedian with a lawsuit to which Borat responded, “I'd like to state I have no connection with Mr. Cohen and fully support my government's decision to sue this Jew” (Blouke). This seemingly farcical battle between a fictional character and a government led, according to Pauline Carpenter, western media to portray Kazakhs as “defensive and unaware of the actual intention of the film” (Blouke). However, regardless of Baron Cohen’s intention, it is important to examine the rhetorical imprint Borat has left on the ninth largest country.
As Cate Blouke argues in “Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen, and the Seriousness of (Mock) Documentary,” the movie Borat as well as the rhetoric surrounding it has influenced the very identity of a country, “creating the only Kazakhstan, the completely bogus hyperreal Kazakhstan that exists in the American imagination.” And while one may argue that this was not Baron Cohen’s intention, it is nonetheless a consequence and contributes heavily to the way the western world relays information about Kazakhstan. Just last year (2014), British news source The Standard ran an article detailing global female representation in government titled “Cultural Learnings for UK: Kazakhstan Has More Women MPs” alongside a large photo of the fictional character giving two thumbsup. And while the article had little to do with governmental relations in Kazakhstan in particular, the title draws on the chauvinist, fictitious Kazakhstan portrayed by Baron Cohen.
This movie constructed persona of Kazakhs also continues as a result of Baron Cohen’s insistence to make his character appear real. Prior to a 2006 diplomatic meeting between Kazakh president Nursultan Nazarbayev and George W. Bush, Baron Cohen appeared in character in Washington DC and held a press conference. During this conference, Borat dispelled claims made by Kazakh press secretary Roman Vasilenko positing gender equality and religious toleration as “disgusting fabrications.” Borat also went on to state that the main purpose of Nazarbayev’s visit was to promote his documentary. And while it may seem obvious that Baron Cohen’s press conference is joke, there is no denying its impact on the way American’s navigated diplomatic relations with the real Kazakhstan. Rather than focus on the realworld implications of the visit, Baron Cohen’s framing expertly intertwined reality and fiction and this, well as other public appearances, further cemented the ubiquitous association of his movie with the country. Although, this has not had entirely harmful effects. In 2012, Kazakh Foreign Minister Yerzhan Kazykhanov reluctantly told politicians, “I am grateful to ‘Borat’ for helping attract tourists to Kazakhstan,” as the number of visas issued by the country increased substantially since its release (“Kazakhstan Thanks...”).
Conclusion
Sacha Baron Cohen's Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan is most effective in its unique ability to blur the distinction between documentary and mock documentary, reality and fiction. And perhaps, one plotline in particular offers further insight into the way Borat navigates between the two. Although Borat travels to America with the intent of documenting cultural norms, his crosscountry quest ultimately commences after watching an episode of Baywatch and promptly falling in love with Pamela Anderson's character “CJ.” For the rest of the movie, Borat's obsession with the character is undoubtedly rooted in this same ambiguity. And when he vocalizes his love for the “lovely woman in [the] red waterpanties,” interviewees are quick to remind him of the fictitious nature of CJ; Pamela Anderson, he is assured, is the real woman. Borat's idealization of the bombshell is further crushed when the earlier mentioned frat boys reveal that CJAndersonis no virgin. This revelation is ironic for two reasons. First, the interviewees are able to distinguish between fiction and reality as an observer, but are unable to recognize the fabricated nature of their interviewer when involved. And second, because in the lawsuits filed by these interviewees, there exists a sense of context or relativity in terms of truth. For Borat CJ is very real in the same sense that interviewers perceived his character as well as the context of his questions and their response to be real. For Borat—and Baron Cohen—authenticity is derived within a perceived reality, regardless of a false context.
Bacon Cohen expertly crafts Borat, a tool through which prejudices and western “othering” are revealed. And while one may argue that Borat is just fiction, it important to note both the truth eliciting nature of the movie as well as its very real implications for the nation of Kazakhstan, a real country perpetually linked to the imagined.
Works Cited
Akbar, Arifa. “Baron Cohen comes out of character to defend Borat.” Independent. Nov 2006.
Blouke, Cate. “Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen, and the seriousness of (mock) documentary.” Comedy Studies. Apr 2015.
“Cultural Learnings for UK.” Standard. Jan 2014.
“Kazakhstan thanks Borat for ‘boosting tourism.” BBC. 24 Apr 2012.
MacLeod, Lewis. “A Documentarystyle Film: Borat and Nonfiction/fiction Question.” Narrative. 2011.
Stein, Joel. “Borat Make Funny Joke On Idiot Americans! High Five!” Time. Oct 2006.
Released in 2006, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan was written and produced by UK comedian Sacha Baron Cohen, who also plays the main character, Borat Sagdiyev, a reporter traveling crosscountry with the fictitious intent of documenting American culture for his home country of Kazakhstan. A collection of interviews and interactions with actual Americans, Borat received acclaim from comedians, film critics, and the western world for its raunchy humor and outrageous situations. The film garnered a nomination for Best Motion Picture: Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, won Best Comedy Movie from the Broadcast Film Association, and Baron Cohen received a Golden Globe for Best Actor: Musical or Comedy (Blouke). Borat, himself, was hailed GQ Magazine’s Man of the Year. And while the movie enjoyed critical and box office success, it is probably best known for inciting lawsuits, diplomatic fumbles, countrywide banning, and numerous police reports, as Baron Cohen’s character embodies every possible stereotype of the backwards foreigner coupled with especially anti-Semitic and sexist views.
Genre
Since its release, Borat has often been touted as a “mockumentary:” a film that poses as a traditional documentary, in which both the documenter and and documented are aware of its falsehood. However, this genre proves insufficient for a film where most of the “actors” aren’t privy to the joke. At the same time, the fictional frame narrative and main character disqualify it from being categorized as a documentary. Borat proves itself elusive of genre; however it is this ambiguous quality, rising from the very real interactions between a fictional character and unsuspecting Americans, that makes the film so effective.
While watching Borat, one is most surprised at--aside from the several minute nude wrestling scene--the brazen attitudes of Americans involved. When Borat asks “what is the best gun to defend from Jew?” the gunshop owner promptly suggests either a nine millimeter or a “fortyfive.” A GM car salesman later recommends a Corvette or Hummer to the reporter when he asks which car attracts women who “shave down below.” And if one gets the impression that those interviewed would probably not have said these things if they knew it would be an award winning movie in both the US and UK, you are absolutely right. Following release, Borat received numerous lawsuits from those involved, arguing that the film was not the “documentarystyle” movie for which they had signed waivers, calling the film’s genre into question. All of these lawsuits failed, suggesting that legally, at least, it was; however, it is important to analyze the way this deliberately misleading phrase influenced the movie.
Borat deliberately blurs the lines between reality and fiction. And while viewers of the film can obviously see the humor in the outrageous character, it is important to remember that interviewees took him seriously. For both the gunshop owner and car salesman, a “documentarystyle” movie implied a certain amount of truth, and while clearly inappropriate, they genuinely answered the questions of what they perceived to be a confused foreigner. In this sense, the misleading nature of the film is almost negligible in terms of eliciting truth. The very real nature of these exchanges suggests an honesty from Americans when faced with Borat, a character so convincing that he makes his way onto a local morning news segment; however, these lawsuits suggest something interesting about language: that context matters.
When the boozy frat boys--who were filmed advocating slavery--filed suit, they claimed that both the perceived real Borat and producers promised the film would never be shown in the US. Interestingly, this geographical distinction was, for the men, central to their behavior, and perhaps a microcosm of the nature of truth telling. As satire often seeks to do, Borat, although under false pretences, elicits truth from the people in his film and brings their darkest prejudices and attitudes to light. This instance also further proves that truth is both slippery and relative. In those interactions with Borat, the men revealed opinions that would not otherwise be uttered, much less in front of millions of American moviegoers. Borat, in all his perceived prejudices, offers interviewees an opportunity to lower their guard and join in.
Making Fun of Who?
The film begins with Borat casually walking through his native village, introducing its members: the town rapist, the “mechanic and abortionist”, and a “pain in [his] assholes” neighbor that can’t afford a clock radio. He then introducesand makes out withhis sister, the “number four prostitute in all of Kazakhstan.” In broken English and a vaguely Russian accent, Borat presents viewers with a Kazahstan constructed of prejudices where an event called “The Running of the Jew” takes place. And while it may, on the surface, seem that Baron Cohen seeks to criticize the country, it is important to note the ways he criticizes the viewer by constructing a foreign country that is, as Dickie Wallace notes, “familiarly exotic.”
A country chosen primarily for its nearly unknown nature in America, Kazakhstan acts as an object onto which Baron Cohen projects all the western stereotypes of a backward eastern nation, and according to Baron Cohen, “The joke is not on Kazakhstan. I think the joke is on people who can believe the Kazakhstan that I describe can exist” (Akbar). For the interviewees, Borat encapsulates all of these stereotypes and the prejudice lies in their readiness to believe the character. When Borat attends a dinner attempting to learn etiquette, he excuses himself to use the restroom, only to return to the table with a bag of his feces. Rather than question the shocking behavior, one of the women takes the time to explain the specs of the toilet, toilet paper, and wiping. For this woman, the idea of a foreigner who didn’t understand how to wipe himself and brought feces to the dinner table was entirely possible and accepted, pointing to both a western assumption of superiority and of eastern “otherness.”
Baron Cohen further highlights this general othering of eastern nations at a Virginia rodeo. Invited to sing the national anthem, Borat stands center stage in an American flag shirt, shouting support for the “war of terror,” and is met with thunderous applause at the hope that “George Bush drink the blood of every single man, woman, and child of Iraq.” In an act of solidarity, Borat then sings the (fake) Kazakh national anthem to the tune of The Star Spangled Banner; however, he is immediately booed, and at this very real rodeo, Barot nearly incites a riot of bigoted Americans before the police are called. In this scene, Borat draws a very distinct line between “them” and “us,” and reveals the violent attitudes aroused by appeals to this rhetoric. This interaction also suggests a superiority complex within the American psyche as the audience boos in an effort to distinguish itself from Kazakhstaneven a fake one.
In a Time article published shortly after the movie’s release titled “Borat Make Funny Joke on Idiot Americans! High Five!” Joel Stein criticizes the interviewees for not only this American othering of Kazakhstan, but for also neglecting to rebuke the horrifying attitudes of this perceived true country. According to Stein, “You’re the idiot who believes so much in cultural relativism that you’ll nod politely when a guy tells you that in his country they keep developmentally disabled people in cages.” And polite nods are often what Borat receives in response to largely sexist, xenophobic, and anti-Semitic statements. In one scene, the reporter sings “Throw the Jew Down the Well” in a country/western bar in Phoenix, Arizona; instead of polite nods, Borat reaps an audience that sings and claps along.
An Orthodox Jew himself, Baron Cohen suggests that “Borat essentially works as a tool. By himself being anti-Semitic, he lets people lower their guard and expose their own prejudices, whether it’s anti-Semitic or an acceptance of anti-Semitism” (Akbar). Like Stein, Baron Cohen points to a problem of cultural relativism or pure apathy in the continued acceptance of prejudice, and while the majority of those interviewed in Borat resist engaging in the xenophobic or sexist views expressed by the main character, fewer attempt to dispel them. Unironically, this American appeal to cultural relativism for the sake of politeness is exemplified by an interview with an etiquette expert who, when asked how much to tip prostitutes, awkwardly suggests between ten and twenty percent.
The Real Kazakhstan
In anticipation of the 2006 release of Borat, Kazakh officials were generally outraged at the movie’s depiction of their people and government and actively sought to counter the movie that, according to Kazakh Foreign Ministry spokesman Yerzhan Ashykbayev, was an “utterly unacceptable...concoction of bad taste and ill manners” (Blouke). To counter Borat’s claimsfor instance, that local wine was made from horse urinethe country of Kazakhstan ran a four page advertisement in the New York Times trumpeting its education system, tolerance, and, strangely, the large wolf population; however, this ad did little more than create more buzz surrounding Baron Cohen’s movie. Kazakh officials removed Baron Cohen’s Kazakh website and even threatened the comedian with a lawsuit to which Borat responded, “I'd like to state I have no connection with Mr. Cohen and fully support my government's decision to sue this Jew” (Blouke). This seemingly farcical battle between a fictional character and a government led, according to Pauline Carpenter, western media to portray Kazakhs as “defensive and unaware of the actual intention of the film” (Blouke). However, regardless of Baron Cohen’s intention, it is important to examine the rhetorical imprint Borat has left on the ninth largest country.
As Cate Blouke argues in “Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen, and the Seriousness of (Mock) Documentary,” the movie Borat as well as the rhetoric surrounding it has influenced the very identity of a country, “creating the only Kazakhstan, the completely bogus hyperreal Kazakhstan that exists in the American imagination.” And while one may argue that this was not Baron Cohen’s intention, it is nonetheless a consequence and contributes heavily to the way the western world relays information about Kazakhstan. Just last year (2014), British news source The Standard ran an article detailing global female representation in government titled “Cultural Learnings for UK: Kazakhstan Has More Women MPs” alongside a large photo of the fictional character giving two thumbsup. And while the article had little to do with governmental relations in Kazakhstan in particular, the title draws on the chauvinist, fictitious Kazakhstan portrayed by Baron Cohen.
This movie constructed persona of Kazakhs also continues as a result of Baron Cohen’s insistence to make his character appear real. Prior to a 2006 diplomatic meeting between Kazakh president Nursultan Nazarbayev and George W. Bush, Baron Cohen appeared in character in Washington DC and held a press conference. During this conference, Borat dispelled claims made by Kazakh press secretary Roman Vasilenko positing gender equality and religious toleration as “disgusting fabrications.” Borat also went on to state that the main purpose of Nazarbayev’s visit was to promote his documentary. And while it may seem obvious that Baron Cohen’s press conference is joke, there is no denying its impact on the way American’s navigated diplomatic relations with the real Kazakhstan. Rather than focus on the realworld implications of the visit, Baron Cohen’s framing expertly intertwined reality and fiction and this, well as other public appearances, further cemented the ubiquitous association of his movie with the country. Although, this has not had entirely harmful effects. In 2012, Kazakh Foreign Minister Yerzhan Kazykhanov reluctantly told politicians, “I am grateful to ‘Borat’ for helping attract tourists to Kazakhstan,” as the number of visas issued by the country increased substantially since its release (“Kazakhstan Thanks...”).
Conclusion
Sacha Baron Cohen's Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan is most effective in its unique ability to blur the distinction between documentary and mock documentary, reality and fiction. And perhaps, one plotline in particular offers further insight into the way Borat navigates between the two. Although Borat travels to America with the intent of documenting cultural norms, his crosscountry quest ultimately commences after watching an episode of Baywatch and promptly falling in love with Pamela Anderson's character “CJ.” For the rest of the movie, Borat's obsession with the character is undoubtedly rooted in this same ambiguity. And when he vocalizes his love for the “lovely woman in [the] red waterpanties,” interviewees are quick to remind him of the fictitious nature of CJ; Pamela Anderson, he is assured, is the real woman. Borat's idealization of the bombshell is further crushed when the earlier mentioned frat boys reveal that CJAndersonis no virgin. This revelation is ironic for two reasons. First, the interviewees are able to distinguish between fiction and reality as an observer, but are unable to recognize the fabricated nature of their interviewer when involved. And second, because in the lawsuits filed by these interviewees, there exists a sense of context or relativity in terms of truth. For Borat CJ is very real in the same sense that interviewers perceived his character as well as the context of his questions and their response to be real. For Borat—and Baron Cohen—authenticity is derived within a perceived reality, regardless of a false context.
Bacon Cohen expertly crafts Borat, a tool through which prejudices and western “othering” are revealed. And while one may argue that Borat is just fiction, it important to note both the truth eliciting nature of the movie as well as its very real implications for the nation of Kazakhstan, a real country perpetually linked to the imagined.
Works Cited
Akbar, Arifa. “Baron Cohen comes out of character to defend Borat.” Independent. Nov 2006.
Blouke, Cate. “Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen, and the seriousness of (mock) documentary.” Comedy Studies. Apr 2015.
“Cultural Learnings for UK.” Standard. Jan 2014.
“Kazakhstan thanks Borat for ‘boosting tourism.” BBC. 24 Apr 2012.
MacLeod, Lewis. “A Documentarystyle Film: Borat and Nonfiction/fiction Question.” Narrative. 2011.
Stein, Joel. “Borat Make Funny Joke On Idiot Americans! High Five!” Time. Oct 2006.