The things you learn at the pictures. Had I not seen Sacha Baron Cohen's new film, I might have gone through life sublimely unaware of the word "bukkake", let alone the concept. That may have been no bad thing, of course. Pause before googling it, and don't say you weren't warned.
The name at the top of the bill is about all the warning you should need, though. The creator of that unholy trinity of apparently ingenuous oafs Ali G, Borat and Bruno, long ago showed that he was oblivious to the concept of taboo. To him, the words "Don't go there" are code for "Let's go!". Grimsby, much more wittily titled The Brothers Grimsby in its US release, is clear evidence that nothing has changed.
Despite their short running times, the feature outings of the three established characters were short-form, small-screen ideas that sagged after being overstretched. But this film, which introduces a whole new persona, hits the speed limit from a standing start and never slows down.
That persona is Norman "Nobby" Butcher, a football-mad lager lout from the title's Humberside fishing town, where he shares a happy life of benefit fraud with his 11 kids and his sumptuously upholstered, sex-crazed girlfriend Dawn. The only fly in his pint-foam is that he hasn't seen his young brother Sebastian since they were separated as kids.
