Bruno doesn't boost gays, he backhands them

Three men of demonstrably modest means in Alabama, their cheeks sunken with Appalachian want like Dust Bowl portraits, agree to take him hunting. Brüno, trying to pass, engages them in some enthusiastic banter about how much he loves "vah-ghee-nas." The men look mildly amused, but again, they don't take it and run with it.

SHOOT: In this day and age it's scary what is entertaining people. Nonsense. Michael Bay should make a movie with Cohen - think they're a perfect fit of shallow.

clipped from www.salon.com Brüno's homosexuality comes bundled up with a lot of unattractive software. He is an open hydrant of empty, venal ignorance, a fame-chasing, grandiose fucktard, all because he is a cockaholic (his term). The repeated pistoning of sucking dick has scrambled his brains, just as surely as a muddler pulverizes mint leaves. Make no mistake: It is gay sex that has made Brüno stupid. Perez Hilton has the sobriety, moral rectitude and class of Lewis Lapham by comparison. Indeed, aside from Baron Cohen's portrayal, the film is hearteningly scant in instances of overt homophobia. Brüno brushes past a group of "God Hates Fags" poster-toting crazies from Fred Phelps' Westboro Baptist Church -- lunatics infamous for being as vocal in their hatred of dead soldiers as sodomites, and more important, not there in response to him. He compares the multitude of stars in the sky to how many hot guys there are in the world.