God: Serengeti (2017)

God: Serengeti is the kind of oddball comedy premise that feels instantly fresh: Neill Blomkamp imagines a prehistoric world where divinity isn’t distant and mysterious, but present, meddling, and weirdly relatable. With Sharlto Copley leaning into the role of “God” with sharp comic timing and a sly edge, the film plays like a playful thought experiment—part satire, part creature-feature-adjacent sandbox—watching a civilization stumble forward under the gaze of two unseen spectators. The vibe is irreverent and inventive, the kind that finds humor in big cosmic questions without turning preachy, and it has that Blomkamp knack for making an outlandish concept feel tactile and lived-in. If you prefer broad, straightforward laughs this may be too strange and dry at times, but if you’re on the fence and enjoy offbeat, high-concept comedy with a mischievous streak, it’s an easy yes.

God: Serengeti aims for a cheeky, high-concept comedy by dropping an all-powerful “God” figure into a prehistoric sandbox and watching him meddle with a budding civilization. The problem is it often plays more like an extended sketch than a fully satisfying story, with thin character work and jokes that can feel repetitive if you’re not immediately on its wavelength. Sharlto Copley brings committed, offbeat energy that keeps it watchable, and there are flashes of clever satire in the premise. If you want a tight narrative or laugh-out-loud comedy, you may leave frustrated, but if you enjoy oddball, experimental humor and don’t mind a loose, vignette-style ride, it could be a decent curiosity.