Grimsby

There is a specific brand of madness that only occurs when a director of high-octane French action thrillers decides to film Sacha Baron Cohen hiding inside an elephant’s reproductive tract. When Grimsby (rechristened The Brothers Grimsby for American audiences who likely couldn't find Northern England on a map) hit theaters in 2016, the cinematic landscape was already buckling under the weight of self-serious franchise building. Sacha Baron Cohen, ever the anarchist, decided the best response to the polished world of 007 was to inject it with a heavy dose of Lager, football hooliganism, and some of the most eye-watering gross-out gags ever committed to a studio budget.

I watched this recently on a Tuesday night while nursing a slightly bruised toe I got from tripping over my cat, and honestly, the physical comedy of Mark Strong being relentlessly humiliated felt like the only appropriate medicinal balm. It is a film that demands you lower your defenses and perhaps your standards, but the rewards are surprisingly visceral.

Action with a Sleek, Stupid Edge

What separates Grimsby from the generic parody bin is the presence of Louis Leterrier behind the camera. This is the man who gave us The Transporter (2002) and Unleashed (2005); he knows how to frame a fistfight. By treating the action sequences with the reverence of a legitimate spy thriller, the comedy lands with a much harder thud. The film utilizes a first-person POV style for several key shootouts—a clear nod to the burgeoning "video game aesthetic" seen in films like Hardcore Henry (2015)—and it works remarkably well.

Mark Strong, playing Agent Sebastian Graves, is the secret weapon here. Strong is an actor who radiates such intense, stern-faced gravity that watching him forced into absurdly undignified positions—like having a firework extracted from a very private place—is inherently funnier than if a known comedian were in the role. Strong is arguably the greatest comedic straight man of his generation, simply because he refuses to acknowledge he’s in a comedy. He plays the life-or-death stakes with a grimace that belongs in a Christopher Nolan film, making the juxtaposition with Baron Cohen’s Nobby Butcher feel genuinely chaotic.

The Grimsby "Scum" and Social Satire

Beneath the layer of "poop and procreation" jokes, there’s a surprisingly sharp satirical bite regarding class. Nobby is the quintessential "chav" stereotype—11 children, a permanent spot at the pub, and a wardrobe consisting entirely of synthetic sports gear—but the film eventually positions him and his "scum" friends as the only ones capable of saving a world run by the polished, genocidal elite. Isla Fisher and Penélope Cruz (who apparently signed on because she was a massive fan of Borat) provide the necessary tether to the plot, but the heart of the film is the brotherly bond between a high-functioning killing machine and a man who thinks a "vibrator" is a communication device.

The film’s notorious "elephant scene" is already the stuff of legend. It’s a sequence so prolonged and detailed that it transcends mere "gross-out" and enters the realm of endurance art. Apparently, the production team used over 20 gallons of fake elephant fluids for the shoot, and Mark Strong had to remain in character while being submerged in the stuff for days. That is commitment to the craft that they don't teach you at RADA.

Stuff You Didn't Notice

The behind-the-scenes reality of Grimsby is almost as loud as the film itself. When Sacha Baron Cohen was scouting locations, he reportedly had to be cautious; the actual residents of Grimsby weren't thrilled about being the punchline of a global movie. In fact, most of the "Grimsby" scenes were actually filmed in Tilbury, Essex, to avoid any local skirmishes.

Additionally, the film’s ending features a gag involving Donald Trump (then a candidate) that caused a massive stir at the time. Sony Pictures was reportedly terrified of the legal ramifications, but Baron Cohen pushed it through. Today, that specific joke has aged like a fine milk left in a hot car, feeling like a very specific time capsule of 2016’s political anxieties. It’s also worth noting that the film’s budget was a hefty $35 million—a staggering amount for a movie where a significant portion of the runtime is dedicated to butt-related trauma. You can see the money on the screen, though, particularly in the sleek cinematography of Oliver Wood, who lensed the Bourne trilogy. He brings that same jittery, high-stakes energy to scenes of Rebel Wilson being aggressively affectionate.

Grimsby is not a "good" movie in the traditional, Academy-approved sense. It is loud, frequently offensive, and possesses the subtlety of a brick to the jaw. However, in an era of sanitized, four-quadrant comedies, there is something deeply refreshing about a film that is so willing to be hated. It’s a high-budget cult oddity that succeeds because of the chemistry between its two leads and a director who knows exactly how to shoot a car chase. If you can handle the fluids, the rewards are plenty.