Sacha (aka Ali G, Borat, Bruno) is not the only member of this British Jewish family to make a name for himself as a creative rebel.
Erran Baron Cohen is drinking coffee at a café in Temple Fortune, an enclave of synagogues and kosher shops in north London. With a mop of dark curls, Erran looks slightly rumpled and harried, a man on deadline. The musician is just finishing composing the score for The Infidel, a comedy film about Mahmud Nasir, a British Muslim who discovers he was born Solly Shimshillewitz and adopted. As Nasir walks in a daze through a market in the majority Bangladeshi London neighborhood of Whitechapel, manic Klezmer-style brassy music, inflected with Pakistani rhythms, pursues him. The music, says Erran, is meant to show the “conflict between Mahmud’s identities.”
Erran, 42, is a creature of modern London, a city of diverse immigrant communities, distinct ethnic neighborhoods and a wild mixing of cultures, where tolerance predominates but prejudice lurks not far away. His band, Zohar, named after the central text of the kabbalah, blends music of the Middle East with Jewish themes and a modern beat. Musically, as well as culturally, Erran believes, Jews and Arabs are cousins. “The way the hazan often improvises around the melody in a very Semitic way is similar to what an Arab muezzin [who leads the call to prayer] would do. I think there’s amazing similarity between our cultures,” says Erran, who attributes his interest in music to listening to his cantor’s moving singing in synagogue as a child.
Americans may not be familiar with Erran’s name but they know his work. He composed the music for Borat (2006) and Bruno (2009), written by and starring his brother Sacha Baron Cohen, the comedic actor three and a half years his junior. The score for Borat won Erran an American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers award. He snagged the commission to write the score by composing a fictional Kazakhstani national anthem in one night, recording his own voice and multiplying it about 40 times to create the effect of a resounding chorus of male voices. Although Erran often draws on world music, in this case, he says, “that was not Kazakhstani at all, but the idea was militaristic: the Russian Red Army singing, quite Soviet there.” Some of the anthem’s lyrics, which Erran did not write, go: “Kazakhstan, Kazakhstan, you very nice place/From plains of Tarashek to northern fence of Jewtown.” The movie was a smash hit and lauded by critics, earning Sacha a Golden Globe award for best actor and an Oscar nomination for best screenplay.
Borat follows the adventures of a bumbling faux-Kazakhstani journalist who effortlessly elicits expressions of anti-Semitism and racism from the ordinary Americans he interviews. Even before the film, Sacha’s Borat persona was exposing prejudice. His most infamous anti-Semitic outburst was broadcast on HBO in 2004, when he led patrons in a Tucson, Arizona, bar in a rousing rendition of a song composed by Sacha titled In My Country There is a Problem (Throw the Jew Down the Well). Sacha’s Bruno, a gay Austrian fashion reporter, has no trouble getting fashionistas to repeat his thumbs-down trope of “Train to Auschwitz” to condemn designs that don’t meet their approval.
Clearly, I have come late to your article. I knew Judith and Vivian Baron Cohen for a brief time in Oxford in the early 2000s, the year Billy Bob Thornton’s “Slingblade” was shown at a Oxford cinema. I was wondering about them the other day and googled Vivian’s name and came across your article, which I have very much enjoyed reading. However, I am very sorry to learn that Judith died in 2008, but I am glad to know this because she will be more firmly set in my memory.
Judith and Vivian were lovely hosts, and I most especially appreciated Vivian’s showing me the most understated plaque to the memory of Robert of Reading, who, after his conversion to Judaism, called himself Haggai of Oxford and was murdered for his faith. The time Vivian gave me has sparked my continuing interest in the Jewish history of Oxford, and I am a Roman Catholic. Indeed, since knowing of Haggai of Oxford and coming across several instances myself of antisemitism among the dreaming spires, whenever I think of Oxford I think of its continuing current of the antisemitism Judith found so worrying.
I will always feel blessed that Judith spoke to me after that particular showing of “Slingblade” and began an acquaintance I wish could have been an enduring friendship. She and Vivian were wonderful to me.
I spoke with Vivian today. What a lovely man. He told me all about his new book – Joe and his magic snout.
I will be purchasing this book from Amazon as all proceeds will go to cancer research.
Very good in depth story – even though I had trouble navigating it. I worked for Vivian, in his menswear store for many years. Very charming and generous man. I was young at the time and was mainly interested in dancing and of course boys. He, Vivian, did talk about his family -very proud of his wife of course and the children. Thank you for your work on this article. Kathleen
I just came across here when I’m Googling Mr. V Cohen . I also worked in his suit shop in Piccadilly years ago. I really have some fond memories while I’m working there and we even keep in touch afterwards but unfortunately…. I don’t know how he is now but yes! He’s a lovely man and so many stories that I’ve learned from him at that time…
I just wish him well.