*** (out of ****)
A documentary written, produced, and directed by Michael Moore
2004
122 min R
Movies like “Fahrenheit 9/11” and “The Passion of the Christ” stir up a lot of controversy because they have specific points of view and they try to convince us of them. Because movies are art, it is their prerogative to do so. But plenty of people think of movies only as distractions. For the cinema to address religion or politics would be for it to reach above its station. But if saying we only like “escapism” is too cynical, then how about “ambivalence?” (No, not the thing that drives you to the hospital when you’re sick.) We like movies that show us why it is tempting to do good and be evil. Ambivalent movies teach us compassion and how to sympathize with persons and ideas with which we might not normally sympathize. If we are to trust the Internet Movie Database’s user-voted Top 250 Movies of All-Time, then the most popular movie ever is not “Star Wars” or, thank God, “Lord of the Rings,” but “The Godfather.” The central theme of “The Godfather” is its ambivalence: these are bad people, but we like them anyway. We are seldom able to embrace diametrically opposing viewpoints in real-life so we relish the opportunity to do so in film.
Similarly, we may be bothered that “Fahrenheit 9/11” does not devote any screentime whatsoever to viewpoints that are not shared by its creator, Michael Moore. Does that weaken the movie’s argument? Some arguments are strengthened by seeing different points of view—by being temporarily ambivalent before returning to their convictions—while others need not stray into the opinions of their opponents. I don’t recall “The Passion” giving much floor time to atheism or “Lord of the Rings” treating non-violent solutions as anything besides laughable. “The Passion” works fine as a one-sided film, but I thought Lasse Hallstrom’s “Chocolat,” for instance, is too human and day-to-day to be as un-ambivalent as it turned out to be. The absence of ambivalence in “Lord of the Rings” is troubling but I still recommend the films for their other qualities. “Chicago” shows both the allure of celebrity and notoriety, but it ultimately condemns it. The guys in “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” are at once hopelessly amoral and hopelessly, impossibly cool.
(Speaking of “The Passion:” remember how churches were taking busloads of members to see it, without pre-screening it first? The same thing is happening with “Fahrenheit 9/11” and Democratic organizations.)
I’m enjoying this little Q&A with myself, so I think I’ll keep setting up ground rules before I get to the review proper. Is a movie bad for trying to convince us of something with which we do not agree? If that’s your approach to movies, then that’s your approach to movies. Don’t go around calling the movie “bad” though. Say “I didn’t like it.” Or think of it this way: is a painting of the Virgin Mary “bad” because you’re not Catholic, or is a busted-tusk Ganesh statue “bad” if you’re not Hindu? Is that painting of the dead guy in the tub with the towel wrapped around his head “bad” if you’re not a supporter of the French Revolution (in real life that dude had syphilis at the time of his death, but that’s neither here nor there)?
I loosely use the “objectivist” theory of criticism, wherein I try to rate art as either well-made or poorly-made, not whether it agrees with me. In fact, if a film challenges me I’ll be more likely to get interested in it. A lament I try not to make about movies is calling them “self-indulgent.” I go to the movies to see someone else’s view of the world. If the artist is not being indulged, then who is? Why, the audience. But I don’t need to go to the movies to see my own worldview. I can do that at home. I don’t need a movie to stroke my ego and tell me how great I am. I’m sure there are a lot of people who gladly pay for the cost of a theater ticket and the price of a DVD so they can have piles of special effects congratulate them for reading Marvel Comics. Oh, oops, that was mean.
Let me try to read your thoughts…is your next question “But shouldn’t a documentary just describe the facts and not try to convince us of anything?” I was all set to go on and on about how no simple transfer of facts can be made without the speaker putting some kind of spin on it. The very fact that you consider something important enough to tell another person alters your interpretation of it. But I think I’ll just stick to the short answer and say that some documentaries are like newspaper reports and others are like newspaper editorials. Michael Moore’s “Fahrenheit 9/11” is an editorial. It does well what art and editorials are supposed to do well: it let’s you know how someone else feels in a creative, entertaining, and thought-provoking manner. It is also gives voice and form to a large number of Americans who feel disillusioned and betrayed by a potentially illegitimate president and infuriated by the self-righteous attitudes of those who call for more bloodshed. Is its argument completely convincing? Not quite, but it certainly casts a whole lot of doubt on a whole lot of things. Perhaps the movie’s intent is similar to that of “JFK” in that it doesn’t so much want to convince us of a specific theory as it wants us to start asking more questions and not just trusting what FoxNews has to say.
Moore’s theory in “Fahrenheit 9/11” is that the decision made by the administration of President George W. Bush to invade Iraq has little to do with capturing those responsible for the 9/11 attacks on America. Instead, the attack is a combination of greed, power struggle, self-preservation, and mass distraction. Greed because so much of the money of the Bush family and their administrations is tied up in the Middle East. Power because a good display of ferocity and energy will keep them in office. Self-preservation because the Bush family and their administrations have or at one time had strong business, political, and personal ties to the royal family of Saudi Arabia and the Taliban. And mass distraction because, as Machiavelli once said and I paraphrase: a good war, whether necessary or not, can get a prince out of a heap of trouble. Farfetched? That depends on your location on the political spectrum.
To this end Moore combines his narration with reams of archived news footage and original interviews. “Fahrenheit 9/11’s” narrative web is vast and complex. We witness the last moments of the Twin Towers. Gruesome images of dead Iraqi women and children being piled into carts and wounded American soldiers screaming and bloody are juxtaposed with the pomposity of the powerful claiming that our newest weapons are “humane.” Pimply-faced and gung-ho soldiers gear up for the fray in the midst of even more gung-ho TV reporters. The jinxed and jumbled presidential election in Florida. Both Presidents Bush shake hands with an endless parade of wealthy Saudis. A nearly heart-broken Vice President Gore has to ignore all the complaints about the Florida election because no one could get a senator’s signature. Congressional representatives confess to not reading the bills they pass. Soldiers want to come home while mothers and widows weep for their losses. Contradictory claims made by the administration. A summit between big American businesses carves up Iraq like the superpowers carved up the Middle East after World Wars. Intelligence agents complain that they were ignored before 9/11 and then ordered to blame Iraq afterwards. And so much footage of George W. just looking stupid. With enough news footage you can make anyone look like Mussolini or Jesus, but with George II you only have to try about half as hard. Even his admirers have to admit that he’s not the best public speaker and that God gave him a fool’s face. That’s okay. Stanley Kubrick is one of my heroes and in his later years he bore more than a passing resemblance to a Yeti.
Page two of “Fahrenheit 9/11.” Back to home.