If you look anywhere over the past two weeks, you’ll honestly believe that we’re living in the golden age of Sacha Baron Cohen. The actor is by no means a spring chicken, and yet his career feels revitalized following a long period of highs and lows, mostly doing profane comedies and doing everything to outpace his previous reputation as the creator of Da Ali G Show. While Who is America? failed to capture similar magic, the recent Amazon Studios movie Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (2020) finds him not only reprising his famed Kazakhstan report persona but also receiving some of the best reviews of his career. Go over to the dramatic side and you’ll find early buzz for his turn in Aaron Sorkin’s excellent The Trial of the Chicago 7 (2020).
It’s the type of moment that makes you realize that he has far more charisma than he initially let on. His guerrilla-style of comedy is hard to ignore, but every now and then he delivers a role that is so compelling and focused that you’re surprised it’s the same man. However, I found myself trying to figure out ways to state this modestly without just writing a banner headline, but I consider Cohen to be a genius of social commentary. He isn’t just someone who prods people into revealing dark secrets about their environment, but he has a focus that only the best of actors could ever obtain. He can stand before you, performing a routine you’ve tired of, and yet you’re left wondering what he’ll do next. He’s still sharp and very, very smart about everything.
Though to suggest that The Trial of the Chicago 7 is his first dramatic role is to be a bit farcical. He’s actually shown up to The Academy Awards not only as an Oscar-nominated screenwriter but as part of two noteworthy musicals. While it’s arguable that he’s playing the comedic folly in these shows, it’s still interesting to note that for someone better known for being a bit tacky that his filmography has a fair amount of singing credits on it. To a certain generation, they may recognize him as King Julien in Madagascar (2005) singing “I Like to Move It, Move It.” To others, of whom I will be focusing on, he is a performer whose potential Oscar nomination for acting may be long overdue.
To be upfront, I recognize that the cinematic adaptations of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) and Les Miserables (2012) don’t exactly have the best reputations. If you’re familiar with the stage versions (I’ve seen both), they’re not the most faithful versions for one reason or another. For instance, Sweeney Todd may be successful in aesthetics, but you can argue that it cuts out crucial framing devices and focuses too much on the morose themes instead of the comedy. Similarly, Les Miserables excises certain numbers and has issues regarding sound design, transitions, and editing. If you’re someone who is desiring a faithful transfer, you’ll have plenty to gripe with on these two numbers.
Otherwise, I would make the argument that movie musicals have been in an interesting period over the past 15 years. They’re not as prominent as they used to be, and yet every few years you’ll get a string of success stories that make you believe that everything is going to work itself out. In both of these cases, I found myself watching with that small enthusiasm inside of me, even if at best these successes lead to tent pole releases every other year. I want to see the medium thrive, and it’s why I may be more forgiving. I want to say that in spite of acknowledging how messy these two are, I love them both for what potential they have in their best moments.
Which is interesting because one doesn’t initially think of Cohen as a singer. Sure, he’s sung songs at various points in his career, but he’s only ever starred in two musicals. The question I want to pose is: is he any good? We already know how great of a comedian he can be, but I think there’s something fascinating about him picking these two projects, in particular, both designed with on-set singing and producing different results. If anything, they also symbolize personal shifts in his career where he tries to convince you that he’s more than Borat. He’s genuinely talented. Sure, you can call it ego-boosting, but let’s just look at the roles themselves.
Cohen’s Pirelli in Sweeney Todd remains his most interesting role, if just because of how briefly he exists. For anyone familiar with the Stephen Sondheim musical, there’s a familiarity with what this character is supposed to symbolize. In a story packed with gallows humor, here’s this sadistic madman, constantly smiling and almost driving the audience to laugh at his awfulness. It’s the perfect archetype for Cohen, especially following his breakout roles in Talladega Nights (2006) and Borat (2006). So long as you weren’t tired of his eccentricity, he is perfect.
In fact, I can go further and argue that he’s the only person (behind the scenes or in front of the camera) who fully gets what Sondheim’s best musical is going for. It’s a story of revenge and one that has these small moments of levity. Even as Pirelli cleans his razor while slapping it onto his assistant’s knuckles, there is this morbid comedy in his smile. When he gets his big song, it’s a showcase for an alternate world where Cohen had a James Corden-like career, where he popped up (often for no reason) in a musical and added this wild personality. He sings the high notes, he gets the pope joke. He is so alive and over the top that you’re constantly compelled by him as this shyster, selling a miracle elixir that is, as Sweeney would put it, made of piss.
He does get his comeuppance in the end, but for those brief minutes of screen time, you can’t help but be impressed. I think it’s as much to do with his career trajectory at the time as it is the actual performance. Even if it was always a longshot that he would receive any major awards buzz, you’re attracted to this oddity in a story full of colorful characters. It’s enough of a teaser that you’re left wanting to know what else he has in his career. Sure, it was one of the pinnacle roles in Johnny Depp’s career and he does a great job in his own right, but Pirelli’s comic folly is a brilliant parallel that is difficult to ignore.
In his second musical role, he took on a more involved role, though one that allowed him to be even more comic. Whereas Sweeney Todd was finding him with this mustache-twirling evilness, Les Miserables is the equivalent of watching a drunk stumble around while asking for handouts. He’s the beggar who knows how to pickpockets, and his second collaboration with Helena Bonham Carter turns out to be a whole lot messier. Some could argue that this is because of director Tom Hooper taking wilder risks with the production. Considering the complaints that he does close-ups when a scene calls for a wide shot, there’s plenty of reasons to argue that the film around Cohen’s Thenardier has issues, and he’s doing his best to keep it afloat. The only few working harder includes Hugh Jackman and Amanda Seyfried.
Again, it’s interesting to note what the career around this was like. For starters, he had his most high-profile role to date in Martin Scorsese’s Hugo (2011) before returning to wild political satire with The Dictator (2012). It feels like these were tremors before the big earthquake of another major musical. He may have had a small role, but the role made sense. As anyone who’s seen the show would know, “Master of the House” is a great comedic moment in a harrowing show that requires some expressive acting. If Cohen has an issue, he is the quiet type this time around, going for hushed tones that make you think he’s raising an eyebrow and a hushing finger. It’s definitely a choice and one that’s nowhere near as interesting as what he does with Pirelli.
With that said, he still gets more of a role this time around, appearing in a decent fraction of the film as the pivotal owner of “The House.” Whereas most theater versions play up Thenardier’s friendliness, Cohen makes him feel more sadistic, only ever showing his compassion when he feels that it will advance him, such as in a moment where Jackman’s Jean Valjean asks Thenardier to give her Cosette and he doesn’t have the gall to call her by her right name. The jokes are quieter, less servicing of a guffaw, and more the feeling of a cornered man working his way out. It’s humorous, sure, but it’s more strategic.
In a lot of ways, it’s one of his more accomplished dramatic roles for no other reason than the commitment of screen time. He has to evolve from a joke into a despicable character that you turn on, wanting to shake a fist at as he takes advantage of the lower class. As the world becomes miserable around him, he profits nicely. I think he brings something compelling to the role and it works, but this interpretation is also a bit lopsided by nature. Hooper went for more naturalism, which is the antithesis of Sweeney Todd. Thenardier couldn’t be exaggerated for this very reason, and his on-set singing wasn’t handled with as much technical proficiency as before.
Overall he was fine, and there’s no reason to argue that he can’t sing. If there’s an issue with the dynamic, it’s that his co-star Carter, unfortunately, sings in an accent that causes half of her lines to be mumbled. It’s not nearly as effective this time around and I think it’s as much the people controlling the film as it is the actors. Cohen definitely has something to offer and does due diligence, but anyone who thinks he’s bad must notice the film around him and realize that, like everyone else, they’re compensating for many shortcomings. It’s a flawed vision, but it’s one that I unabashedly love for how much it swings for the fences.
One has to wonder why these are the only two roles that Cohen ever did in the vein of movie musicals. This isn’t to say that he’s stopped singing altogether, having credited music as recently as Borat Subsequent Moviefilm this weekend. What leads him to not take those risks? I am aware that he was wanting to star in Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) when it was still an edgier, sexier version of the Freddie Mercury story. Maybe it’s just how the projects played out and he will appear sooner or later. For now, I look at his recent success and realize that he has so much talent that he keeps hidden, waiting to unleash at precise moments.
In all honesty, not a lot is lost by him being selective with his roles. If anything, it makes these decisions more curious, making you wonder what attracted him to these roles. For Sweeney Todd and Les Miserables, they clearly came at moments in his career when he needed to boost his profile, suggesting that he was more than a comedian who pulled pranks. He was capable of doing his homework, making you believe that he could be a genuinely great actor if he tried.
In a more refined sense, it’s what I get from The Trial of the Chicago 7 where he still feels comic but has a dramatic core that shines when necessary. For an actor who has continually gone through career droughts of major projects, it’s amazing to see him randomly turn out something that challenges him, forcing him to present a side of him that is practical but classical. While I still don’t know if I fully accept him as more than someone who sings for the paycheck, he’s definitely someone who tries, running laps every time he signs the contract. That’s what I admire about him. Many probably could’ve made Pirelli and Thenardier into something more charismatic, and yet these feel more interesting as Cohen characters, bringing something to the surface that’s not only curious but often satisfying.
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