Comedy star Sacha Baron Cohen brings back classic character and it's NOT Borat, exclusive pics reveal
The comedian and actor, 53, was photographed filming new scenes last week.
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He was in a Cotswolds zoo park, sporting a new look with a crocheted rastacap.
Ali, from Staines, Surrey — catchphrase 'Is it coz I is black' — first appeared in 1998 on Channel 4 series The 11 O'Clock Show.
He starred in three series of Da Ali G Show until 2004 and in 2002 film Ali G Indahouse.
A passer-by who saw the filming in Chipping Norton, said: 'He was with a whole film crew and was in full character.
"He seemed very comfortable in the role.
'I was amazed, I thought to myself 'that's Ali G '.
'He clearly updated Ali G's wardrobe.
"He's replaced his tracksuit and skull cap, but he still had gold jewellery and tinted shades.'
Sacha Baron Cohen interviewing Donald Trump as Ali G about the nature of business
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On my own in a new flat, left to my own kitchen devices and the freedom of the Waitrose ready-meal chill cabinets, I either ate like a slob in front of the TV, or chowed on rich restaurant fayre during a series of internet dates. But despite the unhealthy diet, I was still much thinner than before my divorce. A report from scientists at the National Institute of Cardiology in Warsaw, Poland, discovered what they called 'an unfortunate epidemiological truth' that being married makes men fat. Wedded bliss (or being a long-term cohabitant) actually triples the chances of unhealthy obesity in males: a 62 per cent chance for men, but just a 39 per cent risk for women. Ten years later I had met someone else who I now live with and guess what? The weight crept back on again. The stone that I'd lost had found its way back to my belly (and brought a few extra pounds along too). I'd gone up a waist size and added half an inch on the collar too. So I set myself a challenge. 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What I gave up Here's a list of what I stopped eating and drinking for the past (almost) three months; pasta, orange juice, rice, confectionery, pastry, potatoes, chips, milk, chocolate, burgers, pizza, wine, beer, vodka. No toast, croissant or sandwiches. I swapped chewy sourdough for ascetic flat bread. Fast food, Indian takeaways or frothy coffees are out too. Instead, plenty of eggs and lentils, palm-sized portions of chicken, chia seeds and sweet potatoes, Greek yogurt, blueberries, protein bars and meal replacement shakes. My exercise regimen To achieve the promised 'mind-blowing results' (and possibly, even a 'hench' physique like Rylan Clark's – the Radio 2 host is also a SPR devotee) the course recommends working out three times a week. But I was at it for five or six, 30-40 minutes a day. Kettlebell swings, sit ups, Russian twists, goblin squats, steering wheels, the lot. And you'd think, wouldn't you, that the weight would've been dropping off me in great, doughy sloughs? Well it didn't. Not for a while anyway. Disappointingly, five weeks into sweaty effort and hair-shirt pleasure deprivation I lost just half a stone. Yes, my waist size shrunk by one inch, and my love handles diminished down to resentment grips but no one noticed. I craved a repeat, Jimmy Carr-style level of shock and concern at my appearance. Then, two weeks later, clothes suddenly seemed not to fit so snugly, waist bands were looser, shirt buttons no longer under duress. In the mirror, a better slimmer silhouette, some 'definition', a jaw line, even a vague GI Joe muscle around my groin. At work, a member of staff asked me – oh joy of joys – if I'd 'lost weight'. 'A stone,' I replied triumphantly. Why it works Six Pack Revolution takes advantage of people's love of sharing, encouraging the exchange of progress photos and work out films on Facebook. I felt too old and shy to strip off and post every day so for 90 days I was a 'silent warrior'. Result? A minor revolution – perhaps because I succumbed to wine and bread once or twice – but I am definitely leaner. My skin is clear and un-blotchy. I look less…blowsy. As with all diets and routines, the worry is that as soon as you stop, you go back to your old routines and the sedentary, boozy, greedy middle aged man is back again. Surprisingly, since the programme's high intensity finale, I haven't had the desire to binge – the Five Guys reward I promised myself was ordered without fries. I still haven't had the pizza or Indian blow-out I craved during my lentils and chia seeds period and the idea of feeling 'full' is now somehow ugly and unpleasant. But keeping weight off and maintaining match fitness remains a challenge in cohabiting middle age. One day, flushed from yet another session at the gym with the kettlebells and the battle ropes, with meal replacement shake in hand (yes, I have turned into that guy) I bumped into a table of male, 50-something friends having lunch. I told them where I'd been and what I was up to and, between mouthfuls and glassfuls they looked at me…incredulous. 'Haven't you heard?' one said, grazing on french fries. 'You don't need to work out any more. We're all on Mounjaro.' It turns out among my peer group the consumption of Mounjaro is at epidemic levels. But to me it seemed like cheating. Keen to stay lean (not fat-jab skinny), I speak to clinical pharmacologist and nutritionist Dr Paul Clayton for guidance. 'The activity/calorie consumption deficit is the middle-aged man's constant struggle', he tells me. Explaining that as we age and consume more food and move less, and 'meta-obesity' (metabolically unhealthy obesity, where you're obese and are prone to metabolic conditions such as Type 2 diabetes) becomes a prevalent body type; less than 10 per cent of the American public is now estimated to be of healthy weight. 'At this rate, in a few years there won't be a single clinically healthy North American anywhere,' predicts Dr Clayton. The in-active, desk-bound, TV-addicted Britons aren't too far behind either. Daily activity, some vigorous manual labour, perhaps walking rather than driving to work will help. And instead of vegetarian, keto or Mediterranean, try a Victorian diet. 'The Victorians ate seasonal and organic: root vegetables, potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, turnips and carotene-rich carrots,' says Prof Clayton. 'They also consumed much more anti-inflammatory, heart and brain health-promoting omega-3-rich oily fish than we do today. Herrings, sprats, eel, cod, haddock and John Dory, oysters, mussels, cockles and whelks. [They also ate] what we now call 'superfoods' – watercress, apples, cherries, beetroot, and cabbage were on every plate. 'Effectively, they ate a super-Mediterranean diet,' Dr Clayton continues. 'This made them 90 per cent less likely to develop cancer, dementia and coronary artery disease than we are today. Compared to the Victorians, we are over-fed and under-nourished.' Three and a half months later? I'm still three quarters of a stone lighter than on New Year's Day. I am eating better, drinking intelligently, veering away from calorific wine and beer towards zero carbs vodka. The other day, I had my first pizza of 2025 and nicked a few chips off the half-finished plates of some friends at the pub. Both these acts felt transgressive and guilt inducing. My clothes fit better, jackets can be fastened, even with a jumper on underneath, shirt buttons are no longer under duress, waist bands are looser and the buckles on my leather belts buckles have been introduced to new and previously unexplored holes. In the mirror, a better slimmer silhouette. Then, just last week, the ultimate test; a holiday, poolside and by the sea . The middle-aged, kettlebell-swinging, divorced and unmarried man up against the cruelly exposing triple threat. Shorts. Swimming trunks. Sunbathing... and for the first summer in recent memory, not feeling quite so bad about himself either.
