Fahrenheit 9/11

Sitting in England, on the 4th of July, I suddenly had a brilliant idea. "Let's go to an advance screening of Fahrenheit 9/11," I say to my hapless companions. Cut to three hours later. We stand outside of a large (and packed) movie house, looking forlorn. "Huh. Well, that was...uh...ill advised." Nothing says celebration of patriotism like a good anti-government polemic, right? Right.

There is little for me to say about Moore's Palme d'Or winning documentary that hasn't already been said. He's a far better polemicist than an actual filmmaker; he too often goes for the cheap shot--god forbid he actually piece together a subtle sequence. Of course, this serves a purpose of its own; it is, after all, easier to win over an audience when you've been tugging on their heart strings. He has overly overt, often ill-chosen music sequences. He burdens the film with too many misplaced montages (i.e. the entirely inappropriate mocking of the small world nations composing the "Coalition of the Willing"--right, they smoke pot in Holland and have natives in Iceland, the point being?). Worse, he is an entirely poor interviewer, simpering to those he likes, abrupt to those he doesn't.

It is interesting that Moore mentions very little about the Democratic party. They owe him for that. He easily could have snuck in cruel jabs at the incompetence of Democratic leadership, or their submission to the whims of the ruling party. Instead, he sharpens the focus on key administration officials and the everyday people who are faced with the consequences of government decisions regarding the war in Iraq. Besides, the sheer mortifying picture he paints of White House incompetence overshadows most mentions of Congress altogether.

The movie's best sequences are those where Moore fades away, where the viewer is left simply with moments of sorrow (or, as is more often the case, sheer stupidity on the part of Bush administration officials). These are the moments where Moore most succeeds, and their cumulative impact is literally like being punched.

I don't know that the movie is particularly good--as a movie. The decision to reward it the Palme d'Or at Cannes remains vaguely questionable to me, without having seen the other contending films. Still, in all honesty, I have not been this moved by a movie in ages. It made me so humiliated and angry, but propelled me to want to fight, even more so than I had felt before, and, most surprisingly, was the entirely appropriate way to spend Independence Day. I mean, where else in the world could you so harshly attack the government and still have the number one movie in the country?

Also? I've said it before, but the Weinsteins are marketing and distributing geniuses. I idolize them.