Movie Review: Grimsby

Sacha Baron Cohen’s bad taste comedy is put to good use in Grimsby, a goofy, grotesque parody of Bond movies (with a bit of heart… and a lot of biological discharge).

In cinema’s best ever satire, Dr. Strangelove, a renegade army general mused over the significance of “our precious bodily fluids.” More than fifty years later, Sacha Baron Cohen projectile-sprays pretty much every last one of those human fluids (and some animal ones, too) across his 83-minute spy spoof Grimsby.

They don’t make ‘em like they used to, and they probably won’t make another like this one either. (Angering people is one thing – in fact, it’s pretty much Baron Cohen’s exact thing – however, financial failure is never forgiven.) Shame. With almost no regard for what’s socially acceptable and targets as seemingly untouchable as sick children, the poor and Daniel Radcliffe, Grimsby gleefully spits (among other things) on the very idea of careful comedy.

Reckless and rollicking, it’s a return to form for Baron Cohen following his lesser 2012 effort The Dictator. It may not touch the genius world-skewering of Borat or Bruno, but it shows how a comic mastermind who for so long seemed stuck in stasis could potentially move forward professionally. It’s also, even more surprisingly, a welcome revival of director Louis Leterrier too. Amazingly, with the kinetic action set pieces he’s concocted here, he finally fulfils the promise of his earlier Transporter movies, following the interminable Clash of the Titans and the execrable Now You See Me. Weird, that. Being affiliated with Sacha Baron Cohen is rarely beneficial to anyone’s career, and yet here we are.

Departing from Baron Cohen’s gotcha-style mockumentaries, the scripted Grimsby wonders what would happen if a sleek MI6 operative (Mark Strong, pitch perfect) were to be accidentally reconnected with his deadbeat brother (Baron Cohen). Nothing good, spoiler alert.

Strong plays Sebastian Graves, an ultra-efficient super-agent hunting down a potential assassin of celebrity activist Rhonda George (Penélope Cruz). Mid-mission, he’s unexpectedly spotted by long-lost brother Nobby Butcher (Baron Cohen), who has spent 28 years waiting for his return. Nobby’s even been keeping Sebastian’s old bedroom as it was when they were lads, in preparation for their inevitable reunion.

A hard-drinking soccer hooligan blessed with 11 children, a beer belly and the love of a good woman (Rebel Wilson), Nobby is well-meaning, but immediately compromises Sebastian and gets them both on the receiving end of a kill-order by M16. With no other options, Sebastian agrees to hide out in the poverty-stricken Northern England town that the film takes its title from (and of which its real-life residents must be psyched about its depiction). Much grotesque silliness ensues.

The script - by Baron Cohen, Phil Johnston and Peter Baynham - has some loose threads, though if its main concern is getting us from laugh to laugh, it’s managed at least that. (To keep things popping, and under 90 minutes, there have clearly been casualties in the editing room; credited actors David Harewood and Tamsin Egerton don’t have a spoken line in the whole feature, while all that’s left of Ian McShane – as the head of M16 – are simply his formidable eyebrows.) Strong and Baron Cohen’s female co-stars have little to do except spout exposition (Isla Fisher, as Graves’ assistant), stand in underwear (Annabelle Wallis) and be a human prop (Gabourey Sidibe, as a South African housekeeper), which isn’t merely offensive – because it’s hard to distinguish what is most offensive in a comedy that traffics in bestiality and incest – so much as it’s just dumb. You’re going to cast the hilarious Fisher and Sidibe in a comedy and not give them any laugh lines? That’s the real joke.

Those missteps aside, Grimsby is actually a hugely funny, super gross satire that turns a cast of characters usually reserved for Mike Leigh dramas into action heroes. Underneath the pointed jabs at England’s working class is a deep reserve of compassion. Baron Cohen couldn’t make his dictator from The Dictator sympathetic on any level; Nobby, by contrast, is sweet, good-hearted and played endearingly. And when he gets a weapon in his hand (usually a beer glass), he’s as effective as his brother in dispatching terrorists. The people of Grimsby, like the citizens of Kazakhstan, now have to deal with the double-edged sword of a Baron Cohen-created local icon.

As outrage culture threatens to swallow up social media whole, and certain Presidential candidates mask prejudice by claiming to defy “political correctness”, it’s important to have artists like Baron Cohen somewhere in the middle (even from his admitted position of privilege), prodding audiences and deflating taboos while also busting stereotypes and social conventions. It’s risky, and not always successful, yet significant. Nothing funny ever came of politeness.

On a recent interview with Marc Maron for the WTF podcast, Baron Cohen talked at length about how his team of lawyers closely parse the First Amendment to the United States Constitution; the amendment that entitles its people to freedom of speech, free exercise of religion, and freedom of the press. Sure, it’s mainly so he can avoid getting sued. But find another comedian who works that hard to live up to the tenets of a truly free society, working without hate, and with an eye towards empathy? I’ll point you towards Grimsby, where the fluids fly just as freely as any flag.

3.5/5

In cinemas now. Rated MA15+ for strong crude humour and nudity.