The Wardman Wire

If there’s a country that should love Brüno, then it’s his home country Austria. It’s famously stuffy in parts; but in contrast, Austrians love a good stunt – or Aktion – that punctures it all. So Vienna is the home of the absurd, ritualistic Neujahrskonzert, but also of the superb Vienna Vegetable Orchestra, whose version of the Radetsky March is the best you’ll ever hear.

I knew Sacha Baron-Cohen from his character Ali G, but had missed his previous film Borat: a friend got dumped by text as I was buying the popcorn, and I spent the evening in the pub rather than the cinema. So I went this time thinking Brüno might be funny, but that it would also be stupid, crude, vulgar and crass. I came out thinking it funny, stupid, crude, vulgar and crass but also brilliant in its own way, and in its own way serious, too. You have to admire Baron-Cohen, who is bonkers but also brave in his satire.

© Universal Pictures

Brüno is an outrageously camp gay fashionista and host of a TV show (Funkyzeit!) who wants to make it really big as a celebrity. After a brief send-up of the fashion business he goes to America (of course), adopts an African baby, and tries first to solve the Middle East conflict (hard) and then to become straight (very hard).

Yes, the film gets lots of laughs from gay stereotypes: Brüno loves sex with incredible mechanical contraptions, has to call hotel security to get him and his boyfriend out of chains, and calls his agent while having his anus bleached. But the real target is the homophobia and bigotry of others. The climax, at Straight Dave’s TV fight show, is the most hilarious, frightening expose of violent redneck homophobia you could see – Brüno needs a fence to protect him from American men so pumped up with anger at the idea of homosexuality that Baron-Cohen really is in danger. And one of the rednecks is brought to touching, sickening, ludicrous tears at the thought that even this oasis of true butchness could be tainted by the gays.

The middle class is where the true horror is, though. The gay converters Brüno meets are amazing, but you’re also moved to pity when Brüno tells one of them his mouth is so pretty it was made not to praise the Lord but “for blowjobs”. The preacher is speechless, but his lips quiver: what is he thinking? How hard is he having to suppress the way he really feels? This juxtaposition of the most stupid comedy possible with real social satire is Baron-Cohen at his best, and I think it justifies his humour. He’s a wind-up artist without equal, and the things he dares to do (In Jerusalem he runs for safety from people offended by his fabulous cropped “hasidic” outfit) are just as crazy as the things he gets people to say. At one point, Brüno interviews pushy parents, asking what they’d be prepared to do to their children to get them on screen: I won’t give away what they say, but believe me, you will be more horrified even than you think.

So liked Brüno, quite a lot. I loved the way it seemed he almost did solve the Middle East question by uniting Jew and Palestinian in their common love of hummus; I loved his Jerry Springer-style appearance, parading his new “African American” baby, and his antics with it, in front of a hostile, conservative black audience (who were right of course – everyone is wound up but they’re not all shown up); I loved his night under the stars with mind-emptyingly macho hunters, and I loved his infiltration of a swinger’s party – you have to take your hat off to a man who’s prepared to be belted for the sake of comedy. The Hollywood charidee consultants are a gem, too, not to be missed.

Not everyone will like this: it’s crude enough to attract a lot of people and put off quite a few others. But this is much more risky, much more admirable stuff than the anodyne, feelgood Ali G In Da House, which was shown on the telly the other night. It’s also very funny. Offensive? Yes, Brüno certainly is on the offensive.