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Wicked! Well, not quite. In fact barely at all.
The G-meister is back but minus the scathing satirical wit that took him into the bosom of the
British public. Ali G InDaHouse is truly awful. It's not smart, it's not clever, it's just, well,
shit. The filmakers have lowered their sights from the mature/student audience of the TV series
to a more immature fanbase. Think South Park minus the smart self-deprecation or Porky's
with nothing but fart & masturbation gags. While the Farrelly Brothers have based
a largely amusing career on said comedy, Ali G has not and to suddenly crash the party at
this late stage is akin to professional suicide.
On top of this, the gross-out is SO
peculiarly British & the comedy SO off-target it's difficult to believe anyone outside of the UK (or inside it for
that matter) will find it funny! When you hark back to Monty Python, Harry Enfield, The Fast Show, The
League of Gentlemen & even Ali G the TV series it's shameful to believe this is what is out there
carrying the flag for
British humour. Even the ill-fated cash-in Kevin & Perry managed to be vaguely funny. Ali G InDaHouse is not.
Ali robbed of all his wit is in fact more like aforemetioned Kevin, a hopeless juvenile wannabe,
than the leading light of UK humour we have come to respect from the TV series. The jokes are rotten,
the script is terrible &
the cast just not funny. Charles Dance wants to sack his agent after this one. I heard a critic say
they'd obviously gone with the first draft of the script they came up with & he was right. Even the
mildly funny bits you're embarrassed to laugh at. Haven't we done all those jerking off, porn & sensimilia
jokes to death?
Granted the second half picks up a little from the flatline of humour of the first hour but this is
only brought on by Rhona Mitra flashing a blush of nipple & threatening to get her kit off (enough to
raise a faint pulse in any man & a hint as to how she got to be Lara Croft). The sight of a
dozen kevved up motors driving down the A30 offers a little titter &
Ali's showdown with Charles Dance is almost vaguely amusing but even the spectacle of his mates
deciding to procreate in the face of certain death is about as funny as the Queen Mother's wake.
It says mountains about a film when the apex of it's humour is a Skeletor gag.
One can only hope this'll kill off the Ali G myth before it can be further tainted & Cohen can turn his
attention to Borat - a gem of comedic side-swiping waiting to be polished.
Ali G InDaHouse is Ali G & Sacha Baron Cohen's wet dream. Ali gets the girls, Cohen the paycheck. The
rest of us get shafted - batty boy stylee.
RATING: (c)Limer 2002
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Ali G InDaHouse (Cinema: March 2002)
