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Kim Voynar

By Kim Voynar Voynar@moviecitynews.com

Review: Brüno

Directed by Larry Charles

Note: This review contains mild spoilers.

Is Sacha Baron Cohen a comedian, an actor, a philosopher or a performance artist? I never much watched Da Ali G Show, but I thought Borat, Cohen’s previous film with director Larry Charles, was both broadly funny and narrowly insightful. The same is largely true of Brüno, protagonist of the duo’s latest film — though the buttons Cohen’s pushing here trigger such strong emotions that he risks isolating those who most need to look at what he’s showing, and preaching largely to the choir.

The character of Borat was (on the surface, at least) funny and bumbling in a way that allowed people to fearlessly and openly respond to his apparently broad cultural misconceptions with misconceptions of their own. As Borat, Cohen acted like a mirror, reflecting the hidden prejudices of those with whom he interacted. Borat’s examination of racism and jingoism in our culture was both hilariously funny and insightful, particularly with war in the Middle East and a country whose fears of terrorism are have been riding high for a few years now.

These days, gay rights and the ongoing battle between the religious right and their homosexual brethren has made homosexuality a key issue. So along comes Cohen with Brüno, a gay Austrian fashion host who’s lost his gig and is seeking a way back into the limelight. Brüno’s not just gay, he’s crazy gay. He’s the embodiment of every stereotype about gay people that every homophobe has ever had a nightmare about, all rolled up in a shiny bright package of skintight, well-packed leather pants and a tight-fitting t-shirt.

As Brüno, Cohen makes no attempt to soften the punches as he stares America’s homophobia right in the face and dares it to blink first. While Brüno’s completely outrageous and inappropriate in almost every conceivable way, there’s nothing superfluous in the way he’s refracting cultural mindsets and values back at us. And it’s not a pretty sight.

At times Brüno causes more cringing than outright laughter, as you watch things unfold and think, “Oh, no, he’s not gonna go there, is he?” And then he does (and God help me, the Gayby shirt IS funny, I can’t help it), and you laugh, and then he does it again, and you laugh, until the final bit, where you’re both laughing and wanting to cry at the same time.

Cohen is playing a game of cultural “chicken” with his targets, and I’d be surprised if he hasn’t had death threats. I also kind of expect that, should anyone ever actually try to take him out, Cohen would just shrug and take it as a sign that he’s doing something right.

From convincing celebrities to sit on the backs of Latino human “chairs,” to his adoption of OJ, an African baby, in a quest to acquire some Madonna-quality PR, to the horrific sequence of interviews with parents who think their toddlers are being considered for a photo shoot with Brüno’s new baby, Cohen hits it on the mark.

I’ve seen the parent interviews twice now, and I’m still not convinced they aren’t scripted. Or perhaps, I don’t want to be convinced they aren’t, because that would mean accepting that there are, in fact, parents of toddlers who would actually say “Sure, my kid LOVES playing with lit phosphorous!” or agree that their 30-pound toddler will lose 10 pounds in a week or undergo liposuction to get a part. I know there are, in fact, a plethora of stupid people in the world who nonetheless manage to reproduce and then fail to actually parent their offspring effectively, but sweet Jesus, these people cannot be for real.

Near the end there’s a big cage fight match, where Cohen’s new persona, “Straight Dave,” MCs a tough-guy cage fight of the sort frequented by guys with buzz cuts, bruised knuckles and missing teeth. Things go very, very differently from what the crowd was expecting, as Cohen riles the crowd up to a blood-thirsty, violent, hate-fueled anti-gay fervor before painting a target firmly on himself. Cohen is the ultimate emotional puppet master: He acts. They react. He asks, what do you really think, when you feel free to express it openly? They show him.

What Cohen captures in this film is an ugly look at what lies underneath our shiny, paid-for-on-credit, shallow American values. And while it’s funny, yes, it’s also dark and depressing as hell.


-by Kim Voynar

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And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

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I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

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~ David Simon