‘Brüno’

If you knew "Brüno" like I know "Brüno" -- oy, oy, oy what a guy ...

Yes, friends, Sacha Baron Cohen's back and "Brüno's" got him.

In 2006's "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan," Baron Cohen introduced one of his trademark TV characters, cheerfully clueless Kazakh TV reporter Borat Sagdiyev, to big-screen audiences.

"Brüno," by contrast, focuses on another character from Baron Cohen's BBC (and HBO) TV series "Da Ali G Show": the flamboyant title fashionista.

And if "Brüno" isn't quite the satirical thunderbolt "Borat" was, Baron Cohen's latest comic assault still qualifies as another fearless, defiantly un-PC (and frequently hilarious) portrait of a wannabe media star.

By now, most of us are in on Baron Cohen's methodology, which finds the deadpan performer deploying his outrageous characters to puncture the pretensions -- and the prejudices -- of those he encounters.

In "Borat," the title journalist asked the questions as he pursued his ultimate American dream: making nice sexytime with ex-"Baywatch" babe Pamela Anderson.

In "Brüno," however, the narcissistic title character doesn't really care whether he's asking or answering questions, as long as he's in the spotlight.

When we first meet the awesome Austrian, he's showcasing his legend-in-his-own-mind fabulousness by hosting the homegrown TV fashion show "Funkyzeit."

Utterly oblivious to everyone but himself -- and, perhaps, his diminutive boytoy Diesel (Clifford Bañagale) -- Brüno isn't quite the megastar he thinks, as he discovers when he wreaks havoc during a fashion show and finds himself (gasp!) "schwartzlisted."

So what's a Euro-pariah to do? Follow another Austrian legend to Hollywood and become "the biggest gay movie star since Schwarzenegger," of course. Or maybe just "the biggest Austrian superstar since Hitler."

Accompanied by his worshipful assistant Lutz (Gustaf Hammarsten), Brüno hits Tinseltown, only to be met with indifference (if he's lucky), incredulity and/or outright antipathy -- whether he's encountering a real movie star (Harrison Ford), a politician (former presidential candidate Ron Paul) or members of a focus group who react to his latest TV pilot with shock, not awe.

In his endless quest for celebrityhood, Brüno will go to the ends of the earth -- to Africa to adopt an orphan (just like Madonna and Angelina!), to the Middle East (to broker peace talks between the Israelis and the Palestinians, during which he manages to confuse hummus and Hamas) and finally back to the God-blessed U.S.A., where his in-your-face gayness proves a definite challenge to (among others) Army sergeants, gun-totin' hunters, happily hetero swingers and ministers claiming to "cure" homosexuality.

Throughout, Brüno remains unflappable, whether he's facing down a hostile talk-show crowd or asking a karate instructor the $64 question: "How do you defend yourself against a man with a dildo?"

As in "Borat," Baron Cohen once again proves an equal opportunity offender -- although some will consider Brüno himself offensive, given his enthusiastic embodiment of virtually every gay stereotype known to man.

Indeed, the only straight thing about Brüno is Baron Cohen's straight face as he demonstrates, time after time, how uncomfortable supposedly tolerant folks can get when they're confronted by irrepressible, out (not to mention out-there) homosexuality.

Much of "Brüno" may be downright uproarious, yet there's an inescapable been-there, seen-that undercurrent running through the movie.

Considering "Borat's" popularity, it seems inevitable, but there are times when we suspect we're not the only ones in on the joke -- and that at least some of the folks Brüno shocks with his antics are actors whose reactions are staged rather than everyday people revealing their true colors.

Or perhaps it's because "Brüno" emerges as a more polished piece of filmmaking than "Borat," as returning director Larry Charles ("Seinfeld," "Curb Your Enthusiasm") gives the movie an appropriately flashy veneer to reflect Brüno's own glittering aesthetic.

Either way, Baron Cohen once again demonstrates his effortless mastery of both verbal and physical comedy, blending slapstick and satire with throwaway ease.

He's clearly a major comedic talent.

Still, as gut-busting as I found "Borat" -- and find "Brüno" -- I'm hoping he'll skip another "Ali G"-related movie for a different, somewhat less derivative, demonstration of his gifts.

In the meantime, though, it's comforting to know you can't keep a good dildo down.

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0272.