Anyway, this is now a movie that exists, so … yay?
Baron Cohen made his fame toying with the boundaries of documentary and fiction as the British faux-hop TV personality Ali G and the fake Kazakh journalist Borat. In both cases, the actor’s elaborately outré characters interacted with real people, with often hilarious results. There’s less performance
The director here is Louis Leterrier, best known for directing Edward Norton's The Incredible Hulk and the first two installments of the gonzo Jason Statham franchise The Transporter, and he understands the silly fun to be had from a fast, over-the-top, well-shot action scene. One of the earliest sequences in Grimsby features an extended p.o.v. shot, courtesy of a fancy camera placed inside a contact lens, as MI6 agent Sebastian Butcher (Strong)
We soon learn that Sebastian was separated years ago from his brother Norman, a/k/a Nobby (Baron Cohen), who still lives in their old run-down working-class neighborhood in Grimsby, in central England. Living off welfare (he’s got nine to 11 kids — the number keeps changing), he spends most of his time watching soccer, downing pints and having filthy sex with his deliriously kinky mate Dawn (Rebel Wilson). Nobby has been pining all these years to find his missing brother, and when a neighbor spots undercover super-spy Sebastian at a fancy fundraiser, the “Butcher Boys of Grimsby” are reunited. Alas, Nobby’s meddling at the event also causes his brother to shoot the wrong person, resulting in Sebastian becoming a marked man and needing to lay low. Where better to head than the cluttered, disgusting home of his dimwitted brother, about whom no one at headquarters knows? But soon enough, the duo are hopping continents in pursuit of an arms dealer with a deadly virus that could wipe out a large swath of the human race.
Most of the gags involve Nobby having to take Sebastian’s place in some elaborate scheme and then screwing everything up — usually involving a bodily orifice or an exchange of fluids. But Leterrier, ever the workman, gives even the dumbest bits a kind of action-movie confidence, and the slickness sells the silliness. He films a guy sitting his naked bum on a pathogen-loaded rocket with the same derring-do that he gives an action sequence involving a guy hanging from the bottom of a truck. And when a spray of AIDS-infected blood flies into Donald Trump’s mouth (oh, I should mention: This is a movie in which Donald Trump gets AIDS), it does so Michael Bay–style, in zooming slow motion.
This brand of