Less recognizable with clothes
- Share via
WHEN you think of Ken Davitian, you probably think of him naked, obese and pendulous, nearly suffocating the tall but waifish Sacha Baron Cohen in their famous naked hotel room fight in the hit movie âBorat.â
But there is so much more to Davitian, the 53-year-old actor who so completely inhabited the part of Boratâs humorless Kazakh producer Azamat Bagatov that industry people with whom he is taking meetings even now donât realize he is a thoroughly local American actor.
For the record:
12:00 a.m. March 11, 2007 For The Record
Los Angeles Times Tuesday March 06, 2007 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 0 inches; 34 words Type of Material: Correction
Ken Davitian: An article in the Feb. 25 Calendar section about actor Ken Davitian said that in the film âBorat,â his character turns up as Charlie Chaplin on Hollywood Boulevard. He portrays Oliver Hardy.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday March 11, 2007 Home Edition Sunday Calendar Part E Page 2 Calendar Desk 0 inches; 30 words Type of Material: Correction
Ken Davitian: An article Feb. 25 about actor Ken Davitian said that in the film âBoratâ his character turns up as Charlie Chaplin on Hollywood Boulevard. He portrays Oliver Hardy.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday March 11, 2007 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 0 inches; 34 words Type of Material: Correction
Ken Davitian: An article in the Feb. 25 Calendar section about actor Ken Davitian said that in the film âBorat,â his character turns up as Charlie Chaplin on Hollywood Boulevard. He portrays Oliver Hardy.
âLast week, I met with executives at Disney,â said Davitian, who speaks slowly and deliberately. âThey said, âWe wanted to call you in because we thought youâd already gone back to some foreign land. We had no idea you were an American actor.â
âAnd I said, âBut I was in âHolesâ -- one of your movies!â (He played the pig farmer Igor Barkov in the 2003 Disney adaptation of Louis Sacharâs popular teen novel.)
As it happens, Davitian, who always yearned for the life of a Hollywood actor, grew up in East L.A., graduated from Garfield High School, spent most of his adulthood in Walnut, owns a sandwich joint called the Dip in Sherman Oaks, and lives modestly with his family in Granada Hills.
It was like that at the âBoratâ audition too, Davitian said. When his now- 28-year-old son, Robert, a cinema major at Cal State Northridge, heard that âthe great Larry Charles from âSeinfeldâ â was directing a picture with the guy from âDa Ali G Show,â he insisted his dad read for the part of the âfrumpy Eastern European.â
âMy perfect character!â said Davitian, sitting on a white pleather banquette one recent morning in a darkened, empty nightclub in the Hollywood & Highland complex, where the Oscar ceremony will be held tonight. The club is next door to Davitianâs second location for the Dip. âAll my relatives are frumpy Eastern Europeans, Armenians with accents. This is the character I have been doing since I was a child,â he said, lapsing into broken English to prove it.
Davitian, who has been riding high since âBoratâ became a movie phenomenon last fall, has arrived at his moment in the sun through a rather circuitous route.
Though he studied theater arts in college and later had a small role in an Albert Brooks movie (he ended up on the cutting-room floor), Davitian went into his familyâs waste management business and for years made a good living picking up other peopleâs trash, including for the city of Malibu.
âWith the rubbish money that was coming in,â he said, âwe were doing very well.â
And then he made a disastrous business foray into Mexico, securing a waste management contract for a suburb of Mexico City. According to legal documents, this would prove an enterprise for which his company was ill prepared, and Davitian maintains he was victimized by a corrupt system. The fiasco ended in multinational litigation, NAFTA arbitration, bankruptcy ... and a move to the Valley.
âIt was the worst experience of my life,â said Davitian of his Mexican misadventure. âI neglected my family, I neglected my rubbish business here. I lost everything. I came home broke, broke, broke. My family was mad. I worked as a car salesman, a telemarketer, a salesman for another rubbish company. It was horrible.â
But he also had years of restaurant experience, so with help from his father-in-law, he and his family opened a cafe in Burbank called Gotham Grounds and later the first Dip.
His two sons and wife went to work, and he decided to put as much energy as he could into getting his acting career off the ground. He took acting classes and about seven years ago began getting cast more often, mostly guest spots on TV shows. âWe all did our jobs,â said Davitian, âand around this time, I started making headway in the movie industry, getting bigger and better parts.â
Like many swarthy actors with caterpillar eyebrows, Davitian has been typecast. Heâs had dozens of small roles in TV shows and a few movies, often playing Armenian-surnamed characters -- Sarcasian on âThe Closer,â Hovanessian on âSix Feet Under,â Papazian on âER.â
At the âBoratâ audition in front of Baron Cohen, director Charles and writer Dan Mazer, Davitian showed up in character, wearing the ill-fitting beige suit he later wore in most of the movie, his 8-by-10 head shot folded to fit in his pocket. âI did the audition in character without giving them a resume or telling them I am an American actor,â Davitian said.
When it was over, in perfectly enunciated English, Davitian announced: â âThank you very much, gentlemen. If you liked the audition, please call me, I had a great time.â They stopped me, and said, âWait a minute -- â â
After winning the role (for which there was no script but a detailed outline), he was told not to expect much screen time. âSo I thought, âOK, I will take this job, and if I am lucky and good, Iâll get screen time.â Larry and Sacha always said, âBe dressed, be ready, be in the van, weâre leaving at 6. If we can use you, we will.â â
About three weeks into the four-month shoot, a cross-country romp in search of Boratâs love object, Pamela Anderson, during which the faux-naif Borat elicits racist, sexist and anti-Semitic views from unsuspecting Americans, Davitian was pretty sure of a couple of things: He was in a good movie. And heâd be getting plenty of screen time.
âI donât want to sound immodest, but I thought, âThis is edgy, this is different, this is new. And there is a chemistry between this tall, skinny Cambridge-educated genius and the short, fat guy. It works!â â
On screen, when they were supposed to be speaking Kazakh, Davitian spoke Armenian; Baron Cohen spoke Hebrew. Davitian said he usually had no idea what Baron Cohen was saying.
As Boratâs grim-faced straight man, he blow dries Boratâs hair and other body parts, chastises Borat for running late, perches expressionlessly in the front of the rickety ice cream truck they use for their cross country travels. He is also licked in the ear by a bear and turns up as Charlie Chaplin on Hollywood Boulevard after the pair have a falling-out.
But the scene that will confer cinematic immortality is the horrifying naked fight, which begins in a hotel room, spills into a hotel elevator, and ends with his character tumbling off a low stage in a hotel ballroom during a banquet for mortgage brokers.
At 5-foot-5 and weighing over 300 pounds (and having just undergone a hip replacement), one might assume Davitian would be reticent about taking his clothes off. Thatâs true, he admitted. He tried to persuade Charles and Baron Cohen to keep him in boxers, or at least briefs. âI kept saying, âFat, naked guy: not funny. Thatâs a Wes Craven movie. Fat guy in boxers: hilarious.â
And yet, when it came time to film the fight, he didnât hesitate to disrobe. âI will tell you why not,â said Davitian. âBecause you are in a room with what you consider geniuses, and if the genius is gonna get naked, I am following the genius.â
It was this scene that Baron Cohen relived when he brought the house down at last monthâs Golden Globes, accepting for best actor in a comedy or musical.
It was this scene that Baron Cohen relived when he brought the house down at last monthâs Golden Globes, accepting for best actor in a comedy or musical. He recalled how âmy 300-pound costar decided to sit on my face and squeeze the oxygen from my lungs,â and the awful, ârancidâ predicament he was then faced with.
Reaction shots of Davitian, who hadnât been invited to the Globes but was slipped tickets by a member of the Hollywood Foreign Press Assn. at the last minute, showed him first shrugging and raising his wine glass to Baron Cohen, then finally, as the actor lampooned him, swigging from a wine bottle. âI was anticipating being on the list of thank-yous,â said Davitian. âBut not that.â
He recently treated himself to a new Cadillac and picked up some fancy designer sunglasses at Golden Globes-related swag suites. (âThereâs a lot of stuff you canât use,â he said. âA lot is girlie stuff, and second of all, they donât have anything thatâs 3X.â)
Though he worked for close to scale on âBorat,â which cost an estimated $18 million and has grossed $247 million, Davitian has no regrets.
âI am doing âE.R.â next week. Special guest. First time for me -- no audition, no nothing, they called and said, âWe want you.â People are calling. This has the potential to change my life.â
He is scheduled to appear on âJimmy Kimmel Live,â has been asked to hand out water at the Los Angeles Marathon next Sunday, will appear on âThe Viewâ and travel to London, all to help promote the March 6 release of the âBoratâ DVD.
As of midweek, he had not been asked to the Oscars (âBoratâ has been nominated for adapted screenplay), but was hoping for a last-minute invitation. When he heard that Baron Cohen turned down an offer to be a presenter last week, he fell silent.
âWow,â he said after a pause. âWhy would he do that? Well, call the people who invited him and tell them I am available.â
More to Read
Only good movies
Get the Indie Focus newsletter, Mark Olsen's weekly guide to the world of cinema.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.