Borat comic's new gay creation Bruno talks to our film critic

DRESSED in Bacofoil trousers, nuclear-orange gloves, a tight black leather top, mini bowler hat and a red thong you could lag a pipe with, Brüno greets me with a nonchalant flick of the wrist before collapsing into a massive gold throne.

I'm in the Austrian fashion guru's luxurious suite at The Dorchester, London, for an exclusive interview before his first film is released on Friday.

And whether it's the bottle of vintage Fiji mineral water on his bedside table, the sunflowers festooned around his hotel rooms, or the pygmy Air Malaysia air steward called Diesel hiding in the bathroom, something's put Brüno in a good mood.

"Ich love Britain - the UK," he drawls. "You guys are the best.

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"Britain and Austria have so much in common. Austrians and the British Royal Family are the only two groups left who still like wearing swastikas."

Oh dear. As I'm wondering how to steer the conversation away from Prince Harry, Brüno does it for me.

"You know Harry's mum, Diana, was such an inspiration to me," he says. "And ich have got a lot in common with her. We're both caring, sensitive - und bulimic.

"Und just like her, ich have slept with many, many rugby players."

READ: Brüno review by Robbie Collin

If by some remarkable chance, you haven't yet heard of Brüno, he's the creation of Sacha Baron Cohen, the comedy lord behind Staines rudeboy Ali G and Kazakh newsman Borat.

Family

He first appeared in a slightly different form in a few sketches on the Paramount Comedy Channel in 1998.

Then he resurfaced, blowing at gay force nine, in 2000's Da Ali G Show - outraging rednecks and hood- winking gormless fashion bods alike in a string of spoof interviews.

In 2004 he was temporarily shelved when the series ended and Sacha was making Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan.

That film cost a meagre £11 million and took £158 million world-wide - so a sequel was inevitable.

And, after an intense bidding war in late 2006, Universal clinched the Brüno rights for £25.7 million.

Two and a bit years later, they've got their movie - which is, according to Brüno himself, "ze most important documentary made abaus a hot vhite guy since Passion Of Ze Christ".

Whether he is right or not, it's certainly a striking alternative to the summer's big action block- busters.

This season, Brüno is a Buddhist, so he hates all violence. Instead he is giving the world an appreciation for stupid, overpriced clobber.

"Vienna, which is like the capital of Austria, is like the ubercoolest place," he muses.

"We have a Vienna Fashion Week. But we also have Vienna Fascism Week. It's similar but zere are fewer black models.

"Heather Mills actually goes to both of them. Naomi Campbell went to Vienna Fascism Week by mistake. The result was terrible beatings und mass violence . . .

"I mean, Naomi is a real bitch - she can knock out a couple of teeth if she wants to."

I can't help but ask - in a world of climate change, recession, war and terrorism, is fashion really that important?

"Robbie," he sighs. "Fashion is ze most important of all ze sciences.

"Did you know zat not one suicide bomber has ever blown themselves up wearing Marc Jacobs? You do the mathematische. In my opinion, most of the terrorism in the Middle East is due to a lack of fashion availability.

"If all Brüno had to wear every day was a black sheet und a pair of sandals, zen ich would blow meinself up too.

"Ze fact is, not one World War has ever been started by a model. Although Naomi has come close."

Like all fashionistas worth their organic Hawaiian sea salt, Brüno is currently mulling over this summer's biggest trends. "In Austria, it's all about the family this season . . . and which dungeon to raise them in."

So how did Brüno become such a huge name in the fashion world? He says it is down to his family.

They have always been important to him - until he ditched them to tour the world with his TV show.

"Ich come from an ubertalented family," he says. "Before he was sent to jail, my father was one of the most talented cuckoo-clock beak makers in the whole of Schlesswig-Holstein.

"And my brother Dougal runs Salzburg's most successful laminating company. He's amazing - he can laminate anything. He's like the Johnny Depp of lamination - no big deal, vassever."

Chicken

But fashion was Brüno's forte. "Ich have always been fashionable," he sighs.

"In the first ever ultrasound picture taken of me in my mutti's womb, you can clearly see zat I've taken the umbilical cord and wrapped it around my chest like a sash.

If you look at the photos of me as ein baby, I am wearing fishnet nappies.

"Ven my mutti was in hospital, it took her 24 hours to squeeze me out. Zat was because ich was in zis position" - he strikes a pose like Madonna on horse tranquillisers - "und ich REFUSED to change it."

But Brüno's fashion fixation caused some family upset.

"I insisted zat before I breast-feed from my mother that she had a titzenjob," he shrugs. "Because one of them was a little . . . saggy."

His demands eventually drove Brüno away from the bosom of his family and into the glamour of the Austrian party circuit.

And it wasn't long before he was talent-spotted by TV producers, who gave him his first presenting role on Funkyzeit.

"Ich used to work at the coolest nightclub in Vienna - Klub Apartheid. I worked in ze bathroom as a urinal. Some of the biggest people in Vienna society would come and pischen on me," he explains with pride.

"One day this top TV producer pisched all over me, I made a witty remark . . . the rest is history."

With Brüno's hand on the rudder, Funkyzeit became Austria's "number einz cable TV fashion show".

Within eight years, the viewership had expanded to almost seven per cent of gay white males aged between 17 and 23 in the entire Schlesswig- Holstein region of the South Austrian Tyrol. "No big deal, vassever," he shrugs.

And with TV fame came exclusive access to the big stars. "Ich am amazingly good friends with some of the world's biggest celebrities," he purrs. "Have you by any chance heard of Gerhard Scherwing?" Er . . .

"He hosts Osterrich Idol. He's basically like the Austrian Noel Edmonds.

"Have you heard of Chaka Khan? Well . . . I am best friends with her manicurist. Like, for when she comes to Germany and the record company aren't paying.

"You know Jason Statham?" The British action-film actor? "Ich know a guy who looks just like him. No big deal, vassever."

But naturally, there have been feuds, like the incident at the MTV Movie Awards, when Brüno fell buttocks- first into the lap of one Marshall Mathers.

"Zere's this weissrapper called Em Und Em - ich landed on his face at the MTV awards.

"He acted like he'd never 69ed a guy before!" he says.

"But when I was down zere I had my head near his kugelsack and I felt something poke in my face. Then I realised why he's called SLIM Shady.

"He pretended he was upset, but Ich saw the real Slim Shady stand up."

And with that delightful image hanging in the air, my time with Brüno is up.

He allows me to kiss his gloved hand - tastes like chicken, oddly - before I'm bustled out by his entourage.

"Fantastiche. Ubercool. Ubercute," he says by way of parting. Maybe he's talking about me. Maybe he's talking about the double ristretto venti soy non-fat decaf organic dry Thai chai latte he's just been handed.

But that's Brüno for you. The man. The enigma.

The colossal prat.

WATCH the worst ever impression of Brüno, by Robbie on this week's Movie Time here.

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