Borat: A-

Intolerance is defined by Random House's Unabridged Dictionary as "unwillingness or refusal to tolerate or respect contrary opinions or beliefs, persons of different races or backgrounds, etc." yet in Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan not only is that word redefined to encompass a whole new generation of the American People - it's also turned into the funniest punchline of the year. Masquerading as lanky, mustached Kazakhstan reporter Borat Sagdiyev, writer-actor Sacha Baron Cohen creates a manic-delirious social experiment; a hidden-camera gotcha! that is so uber-sly in its topicality that it reaches a magnificent level of comedy: the kind that stabs your funny bone, your heart, and your mind. If only Adam Sandler should be so lucky.

The loose narrative encompasses both Borat's attempts to glean something productive from our country (with which to help raise up his own) as well as his personal quest to "bag" Pamela Anderson (he falls in love after one surprise viewing of Baywatch - one of many priceless moments). Along the way he is accompanied by his "producer" Azamat Bagatov (Ken Davitian) and for much of the film they haplessly bicker back in forth in some mangled Eurasian dialect, a moment made shockingly funny by the situations about which they are bickering...and the people around who they fight. Take for example a brief foray into Atlanta as the pair get lost and end up on MLK Dr. - the "ghetto"; or a brilliant encounter with some bed bugs at a Bed & Breakfast; or the now infamous naked wrestling - a bit of physical absurdity delivered with unbridled glee for the rudely raunchy as well as the riotous. Together the two comprise perhaps a barely flickering bulb, but they have great energy and comedic timing to die for - which you will after you see their act.

Because an act is surely what it is. Now I know that most of Borat is filmed unbeknownst to the participants but the style of madman-star Cohen winks just as knowingly at the sheer fact of the films inane encounters and coincidences, and there in lies the genius. The best example of this occurs when Borat takes center-stage to sing the National Anthem at a rodeo in the Deep South. Before doing so - and after one very bizzarre, very troubling, horribly earnest, and deadly funny conversation with the rodeo manager - he prattles on about his support of America's "war of terror" and how our beloved President should drink the blood of every man, woman, and child. Surprisingly enough, these two remarks win copious applause which only cements the sociopolitical implications of the film: that we're far more ignorant, stubbornly prejudicial, than we would have ourselves believe. The beauty of Borat? It dissects, skewers, and satirizes these downfalls with unparalelled grace.

Yet grace is sorely lacking in the fumblings of Borat himself. Blinkered and dumb, he struggles through the culture and the language, revealing almost as he passes others' stupidity. Yet the pure, zesty garrishness of his exploits serve as weighty counter-point to the jagged sword turned on our very present sense of "tolerance" - and its diminishing capacity. So now that you've read this far, you must be wondering: what is Borat: Very Funny Movie or Grandly Enlightening Documentary? At times as a viewer I wavered between the two, struggling for an answer, but it turns out the final joke is on all of us, the audience; turns out Borat is both.