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In the end, what history will remember about Sacha Baron Cohen’s Brüno is its prerelease press blitz, a multifaceted, media- and continent-spanning, months-long tornado of garish visuals, nervous gay focus groups, premature accusations of homophobia, endless in-character TV appearances, and a series of highly theatrical, rigorously costumed premieres around the globe. Now that the film has landed, Brüno’s unprecedented press blitz is revealed for what it is: not the lead-up to another uproarious collision of high satire and low comedy like Cohen’s 2006 smash Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, but a smoke screen for a film that’s barely there.
Fears of Brüno dabbling in potentially dangerous homophobia are quickly vanquished, as the onscreen Brüno has little connection to any homosexual who’s ever lived. He’s a pornographic cartoon—claims of “gay minstrelsy” are not unfounded—but the tissue-thinness of both Cohen’s characterization and Brüno’s plot makes the whole exercise far more insulting to its makers’ reputations than to any social group.
Stranger Personals
For newcomers: Like Borat, Brüno is a character Cohen played on Da Ali G Show, first on the UK’s Channel Four, then on HBO. A flamboyantly gay Austrian fashion reporter, Brüno would lispingly lead various fashionistas down hilariously incriminating rabbit holes, illuminating the frantic amorality of those who place nothing above style. At the start of the Brüno film, our roving correspondent stumbles into a mess that gets him fired from TV, freeing him up to move to America and commence becoming a superstar.
From this point of departure, Brüno wanders here and there, occasionally stumbling into inspired hilarity but more often than not settling for sub-funny junk. Things get good when Brüno is given a compelling context: The close-to-closing scene at a cage-fighting match in the Deep South is the film’s richest, making a hilarious show of folks who think nothing of watching two guys tear the shit out of each other but cry out for blood should their tongues (or more) entwine. Another good couple of scenes throw Brüno in the figurative ring with Christian “gay conversionists.” But far too much time is wasted on meaningless foolishness with all the wit of Eddie Murphy in a fat suit. For those of us who loved Borat (and Da Ali G Show), it’s depressing. ![]()
We left the theatre (or theater I guess because it was in Renton) with this feeling of "What the fuck did we just see?!?" We couldn't describe it, we couldn't compare it to anything; it is its own monster.
I usually leave Dina Martina that way. Not that Bruno compares to Dina, but it was the completely-over-the-top experience I was hoping for. Left with an intangible gut tingle - had I just seen a car wreck? A baby's birth? An assassination? What was it?!? - in so many ways is better than what I'm normally left with - the sensation of popcorn shells stuck in my gums and a slight tummy ache from too much cherry coke and now it's time to go home and do laundry before work tomorrow.
I still don't know if this movie was making fun of or exposing homophobia, fear of sexuality expression, American culture as a whole ... There are many ways to dissect it.
It's worth going if not just to make up your own mind - or to get your own special tingle.
It could've been worse, I guess. Lindy could've written one of her pathetic attempts at having a brain and not being a child. She actually sounds more intelligent when she's purposely retarded. When she tries to write an actual review, it reads worse than something you'd find in a High School paper.
glory be to the internets.








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