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Ali G Indahouse [2002)

It has been such a short amount of time.

I am watching movies now rapidly.

Catching up.

Knocking the cobwebs out.

Learning how to write again.

Wassup?

Staines.

London.

Sacha Baron Cohen’s first starring role in a feature film.

And the first cinematic glimpse at Borat (a cameo in a Sellers-like, multi-character moment).

A good film.

Funny.

This is basically Liam Gallagher condensed into a strong appellation…or aftershave…of exotic origin.

Perhaps in a green bottle.

A very rewarding watch.

Not as good as the artful Borat, but not bad at all.

Cultural reference point may be “baggy” culture of Manchester (Madchester).

Hip-hop as embraced by rockers.

Indeed, we see Ali G. meet his bitch Julie when they were both nerdy goths.

So this wasn’t Ali’s first disguise.

Rap was not his first obsession.

Ali was once a long-haired, sweaty thing in a fishnet shirt.

Very Flock of Seagulls.

Or maybe Cure.

Yo, this movie is great!

Very funny.

Check it!

Rap here.  Rap there.

England.

Why can’t they try out the red button on a shithole like Wales?

Because the PM is the PM of Wales as well.

It’s all coming back.

The facility.

Let the word vomit commence.

Friends.

The only way to succeed at writing is to not choke to death on your dinner.

Very bad for your career.

Unless you are already published.

At which time, your oeuvre appreciates in value.

But unpublished, it is like pissing in the dark lose-lose.

We learn new phraseology.

BRB

 

-PD

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