Brüno pushes envelope to its ripping point
Star's sheer chutzpah wins appalled laughter
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Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 10/07/2009 (6277 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
Sacha Baron Cohen demonstrates several important points in Brüno, his new exposé/improv exercise/public outrage. These include:
"ö The umlaut is the most amusing of the Germanic punctuation marks;
"ö Similarly, when it comes to genital humour, there is nothing as funny as a talking penis;
"ö Homophobia can be all fun and games until you go camping with what looks like the cast of Deliverance; and,
"ö Sacha Baron Cohen is one brave guy.
What all this adds up to is something of an open question. Like Borat — Baron Cohen’s expose of American prejudice in the guise of a simple-minded, misogynistic, anti-Semitic Kazakhstani — Brüno is an impersonation that throws the star among ordinary people (i.e., the ignorant, the biased, and the simply gullible) to make comic points.
But it is also as much a showcase of comedy sketches, throwing the spotlight on Baron Cohen’s uncanny knack for flamboyant violation of all that is decent and, in some cases, all that is indecent as well.
Brüno is another of Baron Cohen’s characters, a gay fashion journalist from Austria who seeks the shallowest kind of celebrity. This gives the comedian a chance to mock not only our attitudes toward homosexuality, but also the lifestyles of famous people.
This is a fairly shallow pool in which to cast one’s line or, to put it another way, an even better-stocked barrel of fish to shoot, but some of the fish are irresistible. There’s a scene when Brüno comes on to right-wing politician Ron Paul, who flees an interview babbling about the interviewer being "queer as the blazes."
The storyline sends Brüno to Hollywood with his devoted, smitten assistant Lutz (Swedish actor Gustaf Hammarsten) and satirizes the hunt for fame even as he flounces an over-the-top gayness designed to enrage people who believe homosexuality can be cured by Jesus.
In one famous scene, Brüno shows up on a TV show with a black baby he has adopted and outrages a predominantly African-American audience when he admits the child is mostly a fashion accessory, a "gayby" meant to attract men. It’s hard to tell how much of this sequence — a commentary on celebrity adoption — is scripted and how much is real. Ironically, or perhaps not, this makes it an ideal example of reality-show culture.
The most funny thing is Baron Cohen’s willingness to do almost anything. This includes appearing naked — this occasions the talking penis scene, which uses the kind of cheesy special effects of the sort we haven’t seen since Francis the Talking Mule went into retirement — or going hunting in Alabama with three grizzled guys with rifles who don’t take too kindly to the mincing Austrian in their midst.
Bruno is a gay stereotype meant to expose homophobia, even if it means wallowing in it: the lisping, the sashay, a scene where Bruno gets his anus bleached, for instance. It’s funny because it’s exactly the sort of thing someone else might believe. Not us, though. We’re too hip.
If all this seems too easy, Brüno goes on several sidetracks. He meets with actual Israeli and Palestinian representatives (how does he get these people to participate?) and proceeds to confuse Hamas with hummus. "We both think hummus is very healthy," says the Palestinian, which Bruno takes as a sign of progress.
Later, he tells a member of an Arab terrorist organization that, "Your King Osama looks like a dirty wizard or a homeless Santa Claus," part of a strategy to get himself kidnapped as a road to fame. Baron Cohen has, to use Brüno’s phrase, a brass kugelsack.
But sometimes the results are even more chilling. Brüno impersonates a talent agent seeking babies for a commercial, and their parents seem willing to do almost anything — allow them to be crucified, permit liposuction so they will lose weight, expose them to burning phosphorous — to get them on TV.
At times like this, Brüno has nothing to do with being gay or being an Austrian. Celebrity is its own punishment.
— Canwest News Service
Other voices
Selected excerpts form reviews of Brüno, starring Sacha Baron Cohen.
Is Brüno riotous? Yes, more so than Borat, in which Baron Cohen’s targets were ducks in a barrel and largely undeserving of ridicule. He doesn’t aim much higher here, but his tricks are more inventive.
— David Edelstein, New York magazine
It’s essential — but hardly comfortable — viewing. You’ll watch most of it through splayed fingers, and at times you’ll need a spare hand to pick your jaw up off the cinema floor.
— Dan Rookwood, Time Out Sydney
The crown of the reigning king of bad taste must pass from John Waters to Sacha Baron Cohen.
— Richard Mowe, Boxoffice magazine
Wilder and riskier but also more calculated than Borat.
— Emanuel Levy, emanuellevy.com
There is also a pronounced nasty streak to the innumerable provocations staged by the title character that curdles the laughs and wears out the flamboyant Austrian fashionista’s welcome within the picture’s brief 82-minute running time.
— Todd McCarthy, Variety
Bruno is only intermittently funny and all too often the "ambushes" of celebrities and civilians look staged. The movie is even a tad — dare we say it? — tedious.
— Kirk Honeycutt, Hollywood Reporter
— Compiled by Canwest News Service