Brüno

‘Brüno’ is no ‘Borat’: Sacha Baron Cohen ramps up the confrontation, not the comedy

July 10, 2009|Wesley Morris, Globe Staff

After touring America as the nincompoop Kazakh journalist Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen tries again (strains, actually) as Brüno, the flamboyantly attired nincompoop Austrian journalist who comes to America seeking fame by every means necessary. That includes throwing his crotch at the camera and trying to shoot a sex video with an understandably terrified Ron Paul.

Like “Borat,’’ “Brüno’’ dares America to contradict itself, through a combination of documentary encounters and staged happenings in which many of the participants have little idea what’s going on. With luck, shrewd manipulation, and a beguiling performance from Cohen, “Borat’’ discovered a contemptuous jingoistic streak in good people. “Brüno’’ is a more confrontational affair: It wants to expose America’s homophobia, although calling this movie a work of activism is like calling Spam food.

The character began on Cohen’s HBO show. He was a name-dropping fashion journalist, and his vulgar-naif shtick usually worked in segments that were quick and lethally funny. While Cohen has teamed up again with director Larry Charles, who found a great episodic rhythm for the first film, “Brüno’’ feels protracted. When the filmmakers’ luck dries up, they resort to staged fish-in-a-barrel events that make the movie a more desperate, less surprising exercise.

Following the cancellation of his Austrian TV series (he wrecks an actual runway show by the Spanish designer Agatha Ruiz de la Prada), Brüno moves to Los Angeles to become the “biggest gay movie star since Arnold Schwarzenegger.’’ Initially, the joke appears to be that he’ll never get work because he’s gay, but telling that joke requires a more subtle strategy than the movie’s semi-improvised format can accommodate.

After filming an ill-fated pilot for a celebrity talk show, Brüno forages for adventure. He meets up with former presidential candidate Paul, who looks like he’s trapped in a room with Pepe Le Pew; aims for peace in the Middle East (or “Middle Earth’’ as Brüno puts it); and adopts an African baby that he pulls from a cardboard box spinning on an airport baggage carousel. Evidently, if he can’t have fame, he’ll take notoriety. This leads to further awkwardness during an appearance on a Jerry Springer-esque talk show (of the filmmakers’ invention) in which the all-black audience begs child services to rescue Brüno’s baby, whom his father has named O.J.