Bruno

Why "Brüno" is bad for the gays

David Rakoff — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 03:20:00 PDT

Even without a television, one could not avoid the ubiquity of the "Brüno" promotional machine. The months of planted news stories (like the fashion show disrupted by our Velcro-clad hero who stumbled onto the runway from backstage, dozens of pricey outfits stuck to him), his name with its saucy umlaut spray-painted everywhere, all pointing to the same thing: that "Brüno" would be a hilarious cultural corrective. Just like his predecessor, Borat, who exposed America's vulgarity, ignorance and, more darkly, its entrenched anti-Semitism, Brüno would shine the light of truth on the last acceptable bigotry: homophobia. "Brüno" would be bracing and minty and somehow good for the gays for a variety of reasons.

"Brüno"

Stephanie Zacharek — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 03:15:00 PDT

There's been so much pre-release scrutiny of Sacha Baron Cohen's "Brüno" that the central question we generally ask about a comedy -- is it funny? -- has been almost completely obscured. Maybe it's beside the point anyway: Cohen has positioned himself as a satirist, a brave, punkish prankster who uses his considerable gifts to reveal and puncture prejudices like homophobia and anti-Semitism. But not every Cohen gag is sharpened meticulously for maximum satiric value. In "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation," Cohen poses as a naif from Kazakhstan to gain access to, and make fools of, targets that many of us left-leaning comedy lovers are happy to see fall, like Bob Barr and Alan Keyes, or the old guy at the Virginia rodeo who's all too willing to vent his beliefs that homosexuals should be run out of town or exterminated. But elsewhere in "Borat," Cohen's methods and aims are more scattershot, and his shtick is more stock: Setting out to "prove" how dumb Midwesterners are doesn't qualify as great satire. It's really just superiority.

Bruno meets Benny and Joon

Jeff Stark — Fri, 14 May 1999 09:00:00 PDT

Christopher Baldwin is surprised. Three years ago, when the 26-year-old artist put his fledgling comic strip "Bruno" on the Web, he was almost as confused and directionless as his strip's heroine. Now, after signing a contract last week with Tin Roof Productions and director Jeremiah Chechik -- whose credits include "Benny & Joon," the remake of "Diabolique" and "The Avengers" -- it looks as if Baldwin's character might become a movie star.