A new culture of youth terminology has surfaced on campus: the Borat Dialect.
Most students can attest to hearing snippets of heavily accented conversations that may include, "In my country," "It's niiiiice," and "Ve like sexy time."
The memorization of Borat YouTube clips has become a Friday night pastime. Facebook groups propose that the fictional character played by Brit Sacha Baron Cohen be elected president of Kazakhstan. And a feature film named Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan is set for wide release Nov. 3.
Borat has become the new Napoleon Dynamite-an unlimited source of cult fascination bred in the media. All in good fun, right?
But instead of half-wit remarks, the faux TV news reporter parades prejudiced and misogynist comments, albeit with charmingly innocent flair. But when does politicized comedy cross the line and become social insult? And what kinds of problems does this pose to the other side: the country that becomes the object of parody?
In this case, cultural comedy becomes a very serious issue with potentially damaging consequences, said senior Gabit Bekakhmetov, a native of Burabay, Kazakhstan.
"In all international communities nowadays, every state is trying to create its image and attract investors to be competitive in the world," he said. "When someone hijacks your image and makes what [Borat] made out of it, it's very upsetting."
He said most Americans to whom he has been introduced instantly question him about Borat, a tendency he finds "mildly annoying."
Sholpan Spanova, a first-year student in the Graduate Program in International Development Policy and a Kazakhstani native, said she was astonished that people could find the character at all realistic.
The film (which, interestingly, was shot primarily in Romania) is meant to present itself in a mock documentary style with Borat at the helm. The film revolves around his conversations with the likes of feminist groups, etiquette instructors and the wide range of Middle America. By simulating confusion, Borat positions himself and his country as culturally backward. Take for example his gleeful references to "the town rapist" and glimpses of his hometown's kindergarten, a dirt pit.
Josh Gibson, assistant director in the Film/Video/Digital Program who will teach the program's capstone course on the hybridism of documentary and film next semester, says the film is less a fake documentary and more "pure" because audiences are able to see the interaction of interviewer and interviewee.
"Borat is able to sort of break down the cultural defenses of his unwitting targets and show us that prejudice exists in our own culture," Gibson said. "I almost see him less as a comedian and more as a political federalist. He's able to use this character as a sort of persona to get at the existing tensions that are in America today, which Dan Rather might not get somebody to say."
Joseph Lucco, a sophomore, is one of many Dukies who crammed into the Byran Center's Griffith Theatre last week for a much-anticipated advanced screening. For Lucco, the Borat character is funny because of his mockery of Western ignorance, as opposed to mockery of Kazakhstan itself.
"I find it amusing the way the character makes fun of stereotypes," he said. "Everyone laughs at them but there's a lot of truth about how [Americans] stereotype foreigners."
The aforementioned interpretations, however, are no doubt sophisticated ones, said Charles Becker, research professor of economics and economic advisor to Kazakhstan's government. And because the film merges reality with fiction, there is a likely prospect that it will be misconstrued by the majority of the Western population who may not even know where to place Kazakhstan on a map.
In case you were wondering, Kazakhstan is south of Russia and borders China to the northeast. It is also a rapidly-developing, oil-exporting country, which houses cosmopolitan cities as well as provincial towns. With a relatively low crime rate, it is the "laid back" character of the country, merged with its relative cultural obscurity, that makes Kazakhstan an easy choice to spoof, Becker said.
"[Borat] has picked a people that are unlikely to respond," Becker added. "If he had picked Serbia or Croatia or some place like that, he wouldn't last very long."
Becker conceded most of the jokes will not be damaging and that whatever negative publicity comes from the film is better than no publicity at all. However, he says the government has no idea how to parlay this press, and although bad press can be "easily turned around," the government has no idea how.
The one thing Becker does find truly offensive is Borat's portrayal of Kazakhstani racism toward Jews. Becker, who has traveled to Kazakhstan on numerous occasions, said he has yet to witness any such intolerance.
"To find a truly accepting Muslim society which does not discriminate and then to parody it-that's what really bugs me because that is so inaccurate," Becker said. "It's a lie, and this is something where it is important for Americans in particular to know that there are predominantly Muslim societies that are extremely tolerant and to parody one incorrectly feeds into stereotype and perpetuates misunderstanding."
For students studying in the United States from Kazakhstan-10 of whom are at Duke-being associated with a skewed reality, satire or not, will stay with them for life, Bekakhmetov said.
"It makes me sad that my religion is associated with Bin Laden and my nation-state with Borat," he added.
Borat may be a socially irresponsible businessman. Or he may be a social mouthpiece out to undermine prejudice through comedy. Nevertheless, he has acquainted us with a country that might otherwise escape international attention.
Whether his jokes are received with unfiltered acceptance or spark enough interest for a Wikipedia query, Borat has done the impossible. Having moved from cable sketch character to big screen lead, he has penetrated the jaded veneer of the American youth-for better or worse.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.