Russell Brand, banished from chimney-sweeping for being an impudent coxcomb, continues to find new avenues for his foppish whimsy in the moving pictures. Most contemporarily, his innate oiliness was considered for the caricature of an awful French person, whose very rascally insistence on not being drowned at the nearest seaside will prove to be a humorous delight for all. Now the Varietal broadsheet trumpets that he is soon to begin a sojourn at Warner Bros., pursuant to the role of Cupid, the equivalently impish Roman god of desire and lust, as he is forced to "create an ideal romance"—much to Brand's assuredly droll frustration and wheezing loquaciousness. The photoplay springs from the pen of one Joe Nussbaum, the bard whose previous mapping of the human heart includes films such as Sydney White, Prom, and American Pie: The Naked Mile, and who will thus be entrusted with serving as Muse for all of Brand's jests and japes about the foolishness of mortal love, as well as putting him in a comically large diaper. The cheeks of the gentry are said to already be distended and ruddy with discomposure.
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