"Br√ºno," the fussed-over Sacha Baron Cohen film, goes where no man has before … like into the ass of Milli Vanilli's spirit. And hey, maybe you haven't heard: This very gay, very offensive, very wrong follow up to 2006's uproarious riot "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America to Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan" is stirring a love-or-hate brouhaha among gays, like those on our Facebook page.
I've got a hunch, a good one, that "Brüno" will even disgust and disturb dirty minds jammed in the gutter with its superfluous sex and pokes at gay culture, gay marriage, gay adoption, gay play and gay hate. Yes, it's all very gay.
Brüno, a queer Austrian fashionista, is gung-ho over becoming "the biggest Austrian sensation since Hitler," leading him in pursuit of desperate measures, like stealing a black baby Рand calling him "Gayby" Рand trying to bring peace to the Middle East (learning the difference between the Hamas and hummus might help).
Yeah, he's a dimwit – and more annoying than "Borat." No one wanted to hug the dweeby foreigner, but at least we had a soft spot for the (very hairy) fish out of water. Brueno's just selfish and horny, and horny some more – and unapologetic about all of it.
He's always in your face. And in a lot more, I imagine. Oh, I don't have to. "Brüno" throws it all at us Рdildo self-defense, man-made chairs (literally), anal play, swinger parties Рand finds new ways to taser the numbed.
Yes, he's essentially in "gay face" Рbut so is every straight actor that's played gay. There are a lotta stereotypes Рsome of the simplest. Yes, I rolled my eyes and contorted my face into a WTF grimace during a futile and cheap scene involving Brüno and his Asian flight-attendant boyfriend that made gay sex look like the Barnum & Bailey circus.
Everything about "Brueno" shocks, and anyone who saw "Borat" gets it: "Brüno," like Baron Cohen's anti-Semitism expose, is a mirror to our societal absurdities, uncovering intolerance and homophobia and much more than many care to see by plopping its lead actor into awkward and shady real-life situations involving hicks, bimbos and Ron Paul.
He makes them look dumb; we laugh.
But will a queeny, sex-obsessed flaming archetype damage us? We're not all like that, of course, but that type exists Рso does that really make Brüno a stereotype, or merely a character? We've seen Brünos in other films, albeit less exaggerated versions: Adam Sandler's loose-wristed, diva-loving hairdresser in "You Don't Mess with the Zohan," and a flamboyant Robin Williams in "The Birdcage." "Brüno," like the other flicks, is entertainment, shooting for cheap laughs and often scoring. Sometimes slam-dunking. When it comes to gay issues, it's about as influential as former Miss California Carrie Prejean.
Where stereotypes are inflated to maximum circumference, the PC bubble undergoes a big popping Рeveryone, from Mexican immigrants to blacks and Tom Cruise, is bait. Comedians like Lisa Lampanelli and Sarah Silverman have essentially done the same sorta equal-opportunity offending, exposing stereotypes and shrouding them in stupidity. Brüno's playing the same game Рwhen he's not making himself look asinine, he's making others look it. And he does that damn well.
Following a Br√ºno epiphany in which he realizes his claim-to-fame mission can only come to fruition if he drops the gayness, he tries to become an ex-gay. Because that works. The consulting pastor tells Br√ºno that he can really, truly master the art of turning hetero if he ceases listening to the Indigo Girls. Or at least The Village People. The real joke here isn't Br√ºno; it's his homophobic, duped and often idiotic subjects who are tragically narrow-minded … and think that the "Y.M.C.A." creates homosexuals.
The skimpy farce – 83 minutes – is a scattershot comedy that slips when it puts shock over smart, going for cheap, forced raunchy-sex jokes instead of satirical comedy. When its brain's lit up, like during the film's final half – the hysterical, better one – it wickedly works.
But the more outrageous it is, the faker it looks. No one can convince me that Brüno made it onto "Medium," a TV drama, as an extra or that Paula Abdul was totally unaware she was being punk'd, no matter how flaky she is. That almost ruins it. So does the lack of fluidity that was in "Borat," which it tries too hard to duplicate. Instead, creator Baron Cohen and co-writer Anthony Hines' bigger, gayer brother is a hodgepodge of jumpy sketches that run the gamut from sick to sicker to sickest.
It won't change minds or turn allies into haters, but maybe Brüno will be a news flash to some with its "Beware: Homopobes" memo. That, though, is merely a footnote. Almost an apology for everything that came before it. The sex circus. The disgusting poke at gay families. The dexterous dick. People wanting to see Brüno want to laugh, not change the world. As stupid as Brüno comes off, even he knows that. B-
