A prominent critique of modern-day satire is that it requires a certain clarity of purpose or it risks becoming the very thing it seeks to satirize. Sacha Baron Cohen’s return as the crass Kazak reporter Borat Sagdiyev in Borat Subsequent Moviefilm seems to be aware of this danger. Yet, while not exactly succumbing to that which it parodies, neither does the comedy feel sure about what exactly it’s trying to parody. The takeaway—beneath the veneer of American politeness lies proud (and deadly) ignorance—felt more fresh during Borat’s first go-around in 2006. Now, nearly 15 years later, the schtick just feels aimless and, most importantly, only minimally funny (depending on your level of detached irony).

Like many films centered on pranks, the story is of secondary importance—mainly catered around elaborate scenarios set up to spur reactions. Fresh out of serving a labor camp sentence for “making mockery” of glorious Kazakhstan, Borat is sent by the government to America to deliver a monkey doll as a tribute to Vice President Mike Pence. Upon arrival, Borat discovers his 15-year-old daughter, Tutar (Maria Bakalova), has snuck into his luggage. Borat now has an adorable accomplice to aid in his crude exploits.

Because Borat has become a sort of American icon, Baron Cohen finds a way around this by having Borat become aware of his fame. Hence, he disguises himself during several bits. There are disguised interviews with anti-abortion activists, Republican feminists, QAnon Libertarians, an appearance at the 2020 CPAC convention (which was a wasted opportunity), and, in perhaps the most effective bit, a sit-down with former New York City mayor and Trump capo, Rudy Giuliani.

Performance-wise, it’s hard not to be impressed by Baron Cohen’s usual dedication, some of which involved spending 48 hours in coronavirus lockdown with QAnon folk. But it also seemed like, in many instances, people were more “in on it” than before. The reactions Baron Cohen tries to elicit never reach the sanctimonious horror felt by the participants in the first film, and I get the sense that folks nowadays are more aware of when they’re being played on camera and so act accordingly. Still, there are moments, especially in the Giuliani interview, that are shocking enough to hold one’s attention. My personal favorite was Borat and his daughter’s dance performance at a Southern debutante ball, whose crowd elicited vibes of underlying gothic horror I haven’t felt since watching Get Out.

In terms of surface-level crudeness, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm delivers some lighthearted laughs in a time when we need it most. Yet too many of the jokes don’t have a punch line. When Borat sings to a crowd of Trump supporters, about killing journalist and scientists, much to raucous applause, it was less funny and more disturbing (or sad, depending on your political attitude). He wasn’t outing or exposing anyone in any significant or even entertaining way—in fact, I’m sure the participants will be happy to have been on camera. Instead, the skit ends up becoming an outlet of indulgence for its participants.

As we jump from bit to bit, we are ultimately left gazing at people who are exactly who they loudly proclaim to be. The only option left from there is the resorting to low-hanging pee-pee-poo-poo jokes, which, of course, never fail to get a rise out of an audience. Perhaps fecal matter jokes are the only material left to properly epitomize the horrific absurdities of our current reality.