Saturday, August 8, 2009

Bruno

I have already written about some of my observations of Sasha Baron Cohen in a previous post. To summarize, I find him really smart for dressing up as stereotypes and making both viewers of the films and the people who unknowingly star in them interact with the ridiculousness of those stereotypes. But I find Baron Cohen hypocritical for using stereotypes to be the people he interacts with. Second, while attempting to promote tolerance, he unintentionally pushes the question of tolerance too far – namely, when do things in life become intolerable?

Carrying this thought into his latest full length film significantly deflated whatever weight it was meant to carry. I disliked “Bruno” the film. A lot. In fact, I’d go as far to say that of all of the movies I have ever seen, Bruno is among the worst of them. Like, not even a doubt about it. As a comedy, it was flat. As a film, it was boring. As a commentary, its message was obscured by too much filth.

And remember - this is coming from a guy who likes Sacha Baron-Cohen.

I thought that the Ali-G series was mostly great. I found Bruno the character to be really funny and deviously clever in the TV show. Same goes for Borat and Ali-G. As a feature film, I found Bruno to be less than sustainable.

There are several reasons Bruno didn’t work for me as a film. For starters, the novelty is gone. I am not shocked anymore when Bruno humiliates himself or someone else on screen. It feels one trick, which is interesting because the series didn’t. But Baron Cohen’s relentless attempts to promote Borat to the ends of the earth ended up making the shtick awfully boring. Since Bruno follows nearly the same formula, I didn’t care as much.

Perhaps the series worked so well because the novelty of it was still brand new. Additionally, the short time format as a series works great, but as a movie it doesn't work nearly as well. Could you imagine if MTV made a movie out of Punk’d footage with a plot loosely strewn in?

Second, Borat's American overexposure clearly made those previously unaware of Baron Cohen newly aware. As a result, much of what is on screen feels staged. The best example would be the Richard Bey show sequence. I could swear that the audience was half made up of actors and actresses, as all of their expressions felt too rehearsed.

Third, it just wasn’t funny. Perhaps this relates to the novelty aspect, but I was hardly laughing or in shock. Not that the movie wasn’t shocking – there is plenty of outrageous behavior for all to see – but if it Baron Cohen interactions with people feels staged, then the joke is lost. Most of the shock was seeing people’s foolishness on display. Here, it feels more about Baron Cohen and the film suffers for it.

As was previously mentioned, the “mission” or “message” of Baron Cohen feels really hypocritical due to the stereotyping he engages in, and the movie features loads of it. Perhaps this is best displayed in the well publicized cage fight finale in Arkansas where Baron Cohen makes a huge display of being straight before nearly having sex with another man in the ring. Each crowd member is hand picked from the stereotyping of hillbilly country. What if this was done in another part of the country?

Lastly, much of the content of the film went beyond comfortable for laughs and it didn’t work at all. It was trash. The ridiculousness of the opening sequence where we see Baron Cohen and his lover engaging in all manner of sexual experimentation was too stupid to illicit any laughs from me. Yet the film goes about 8 miles further during a swinger house party sequence. It was completely filthy and in poor taste. Baron Cohen's point may have been that if these individuals treat sex with such disregard, then so can he and ultimately the viewer. It was as though Baron Cohen made the naked fight in Borat the base level for humor in Bruno, whereas in Borat it felt like the spike in content.

Through a popular movie website, I was linked to a film through a top 10 type list about mocumentaries. One particular film (which I refuse to mention) has been described as being among, if not at the top of, a list of the world's most objectionable films ever made. As I read about the film, I learned that its defenders called it "art" because of the final line in the movie: “maybe we’re the ones who are the real cannibals.” Somehow this line made all of the films brutally explicit gore, sexual violence, and on screen animal killing acceptable. I can't help but ask - Where is the point when one goes too far to make a point for all their "art" or even good intentions?

I am not equating Bruno with aforementioned film, but the analogy works closely enough for me.

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