Now and Then - Michael Moore
September 9th 2007 07:15
Plug 'Michael Moore' into Google and the listing at the top of the page is, to be expected, Moore's official website . Then there's his entry on Wikipedia and his Internet Movie Database page. His controversy as a filmmaker, public commentator and activist (although he rejects the term) becomes blatantly clear when you see that three of the ten entries on the first page are dedicated anti-Moore websites (www.mooreexposed.com, www.moorelies.com and www.moorewatch.com).
The opening paragraph on the homepage of mooreexposed.com gives you an idea of what you're in if you delve into these online diatribes:
'Should a 400 lb man advise us on the evils of over-consumption?? Should the resident of a million-dollar apartment claim to be a poster boy of the working class?? Should a person who thought that Enron was a great investment, that Ralph Nader, Wesley Clark and John Kerry would win, and that North Korea's Kim Jong was changing for the better, advise us on ANYTHING?' (extract from www.mooreexposed.com)
There are books ('Michael Moore is a Big Fat Stupid White Man') and films ('Manufacturing Dissent', 'Michael Moore Hates America') that mount vitriolic diatribes against his work and other activities, part of a discrete shadow industry to the man's own output with its one intent being to discredit and denigrate him and his work. Michael Moore has described the phenomenon as though “It’s a fictional character that’s been created with the name of Michael Moore.” ("Michael Moore has harsh words for critics", MSNBC, 2007-06-16.) It seems that Moore's shrill and questionable blending of opinion and fact inspire others to adopt the same methods in attacking him.
Have a look at these sites and you begin sense the hysteria in the tone, which I suppose is to be expected- the moderators and contributors must have a particularly blunted axe to grind to invest so much energy in such a negative enterprise directed at one individual.
Whatever slant one takes on his politics and ethics as a filmmaker, it cannot be denied that he is certainly successful in reaching an audience. Moore's two documentaries Fahrenheit 911 and Bowling for Columbine are respectively two of the highest grossing documentaries world wide.
Perhaps the detractors are simply envious.
Continuing with my 'now and then' series of posts, I had a look at Moore's most recent release SiCKO, and traipsed through the back catalogue to his first documnetary feature, Roger and Me. Read on for the reviews...
Roger and Me (1987)
Directed by Michael Moore
Flint, Michigan - in the early 1980s General Motors Chairman Roger Smith, instituted a mass lay-off of automotive factory workers, crippling an industry that for decades had underwritten the prosperity of a town that had embodied the ideal marriage between corporate America and its people.
At least, that's the image that GM promulgated in its heyday, illustrated beautifully by the opening minutes of Roger and Me which stitches together a montage of publicity footage and educational films - a sequence that encapsulates three powerful forces that excite the American dream: family, celebrity and capitalism. Moore introduces us to Flint's future luminaries - Bob Eubanks, host of the hit game show 'The Newlywed Game' and Pat Boone, the crooner who would go on to be the number one spokesperson for GM's Chevrolet. Moore's voice-over acquaints us with Flint with the irony and affection of someone who knows a place and its history well, which he should considering it's his hometown. It's this personal connection with the material that makes this documentary so accessible and moving, and does something to mitigate one the most irritating features of Moore's films- the discomfort of having the filmmaker so vainly placed at the centre of the action so often.
There are many beautifully constructed moments in Roger and Me that evoke the sad decline of a community that staked its life and pride on the economic prosperity that the automotive industry provided. There's the attempts of the Flint Convention and Visitors Bureau to inject new economic life into Flint with a host of new projects - a shiny new Hyatt Regency Hotel, a state of the art shopping mall, a theme park dedicated to all things automotive (Autoworld, displaying the world's largest functioning engine!) and a re-energised campaign to attract American tourists to Flint with a brand new slogan - 'Flint: our new spark will surprise you!' These ventures all fail miserably and, although Moore's main purpose seems to be to lampoon the architects of these ludicrous schemes, I couldn't help but feel sad for the misplaced enthusiasm they had invested in them. In line with the man thesis of the film, that Roger Smith's economically ruthless decision effectively crippled the town, we are treated to a harrowing account of the human toll that the slump has created: mass unemployment, a swathe of evictions, and a spate of violent crime that climaxes in the public indictment by Money Magazine that Flint is the 'worst place to live in America.' Outraged by this insult in the national media, Flint citizens gather to publicly burn Money Magazine and enthuse about all the great things it is to be a resident of Flint, a moment that - because of the context of societal degradation that Moore places it in - has a desperate quality to it.
In his first foray into filmmaking, Moore clearly establishes the features that have characterised all his films thus far - ploughing through archive footage for ironic effect, engaging in stunts and incursions into enemy territory full of rhetorical questions and insincere requests, and the use of juxtapositions designed to embarrass or illuminate the hypocrisy of Moore's chosen targets. It is the use of juxtaposition which is the most powerfully, and dubiously, employed device in Roger and Me. One particular figure who reappears throughout the film is the county Sherriff, who stoically and unemotionally carries out his job of evicting tenants from their homes when they've fallen behind in their rent. Moore cuts back to this grim process every time he wants to make a point about the inequality, hypocrisy and emptiness that is eating away at the perceived heart of Flint. He juxtaposes this image with pompous elderly retirees playing golf in pastel sportsgear. He juxtaposes it with a 'Great Gatsby Party' where the elegant upper crust of Flint sing the praises of their town and try to downplay the seriousness of GM's recent action. And finally he uses it in juxtaposition with Roger Smith's annual Christmas address, the crowning irony of the film, where Moore confronts Smith about a family that was being evicted from their home the day before Christmas eve. Smith justifiably defends himself vociferously, and the sequence makes a powerful emotional point, but it's a typical instance in Moore's polemical approach where sentimentality is pasted on in thick swathes, undercutting the power of the message that he hammers home with such force. There's another instance where, during one of the evictions, the camera lingers on a young black boy running between his former home and the pile of possessions that his family have stacked on the curb. It's certainly terrible that this little boy has to endure the experience of being forcibly uprooted, but the way that Moore employs the image is crudely sentimental and manipulative because of the lack of context given in regard to this event. As a viewer, you are instructed what to think about this image, which is a lazy and crude form of story-telling that smacks of condescension.
Putting aside the questionable aspects of Moore's mode of filmmaking, and the political debate that continues to swirl around it, Roger and Me is an entertaining and very funny film. Although he lacerates his hometown and the false image of confidence that it attempts to project in the face of disaster, it appears that he genuinely laments the decline of Flint and everything that that decline represents about an increasingly materialistic and inequitable American society.
Sicko (2007)
Directed by Michael Moore
Sicko is a refinement of the story-telling approach that has made Michael Moore such a popular, and populist, figure in documentary filmmaking throughout the world.
This time around, Moore's target is the US Health system, rated by The World Health Organisation as number 37 in the world and according to Moore, governed by a system driven ruthlessly by profit, where the intent of the corporate insurers and health-care providers is not to provide care to their clients but at every opportunity to minimise costs and maximise profit.
Moore takes us through the horror-stories of several Americans, those with and without insurance cover, detailing the cynical manoeuvres that major insurers employ in an attempt to release themselves from an obligation to pay out when a claim is made. The mechanics are bluntly laid out by a former investigator of health insurance claims, a middleman who would adopt any tactic to achieve his employers aim, denial of care. He explains one particularly outrageous aspect of this labyrinthine system, where a pre-existing condition of an insured person could be used as grounds to deny a claim whether or not they knew about it or sought treatment for the condition prior to applying for cover. Denial is a frequently used word in Moore's description of how the US system works. Denial of payment. Denial of care. Denial of responsibility. It's an extreme symptom of a market-driven system that has Moore traces back to the years of Nixon's presidency. Nixon's fastidious habit of recording his every conversaiton has left us with an an exchange between him and John Ehrlichman (one of Nixon's advisers who was implicated in the Watergate affair) where they discuss a new system of health care that emphasises one damning point: ""...the less care they give them, the more money they make."
Moore takes us through the interconnected system of kick-backs, political donations, board positions and intense lobbying that underwrites the cartel between the insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies and a government that creates law and policy sustaining the big end of town. The indictment of the US Health system that Moore argues in his broad-sweeping manner would probably be enough material for a documentary in itself, but he goes further afield, comparing the US situation with that of the UK, France and even Cuba. In a sequence that is classic Moore sentimentality, he takes several rescue workers suffering illnesses resulting from their participation in 9/11 rescue efforts for care at the state-of-the-art medical facility at Guantanamo Bay. Floating in a hire-boat just outside the exclusion zone of the high-security detention centre, Moore requests through a megaphone that the rescue workers be admitted for care. Receiving no response, they head to Cuba where they are treated (for free) by Cuban medical professionals. It is a moving moment when these people, who've been in a void of hopelessness, unable to have their conditions treated in their home country, are finally treated humanely (with no worries about payment) by a nation which is demonised in the American consciousness.
The theme underlying all this commentary, as with Roger and Me, is the degradation of basic human values that comes about in a purely market-driven system ruled by an uncaring elite. As with all of his films, Moore simplifies the issues, trumpeting shrill criticisms of the perceived villains (Corporate America and their Government lackeys) without offering any real solutions to the problems he outlines. In spite of this, Sicko is a harrowing film in many respects, and makes me very glad I wasn't born in the USA.
The opening paragraph on the homepage of mooreexposed.com gives you an idea of what you're in if you delve into these online diatribes:
'Should a 400 lb man advise us on the evils of over-consumption?? Should the resident of a million-dollar apartment claim to be a poster boy of the working class?? Should a person who thought that Enron was a great investment, that Ralph Nader, Wesley Clark and John Kerry would win, and that North Korea's Kim Jong was changing for the better, advise us on ANYTHING?' (extract from www.mooreexposed.com)
There are books ('Michael Moore is a Big Fat Stupid White Man') and films ('Manufacturing Dissent', 'Michael Moore Hates America') that mount vitriolic diatribes against his work and other activities, part of a discrete shadow industry to the man's own output with its one intent being to discredit and denigrate him and his work. Michael Moore has described the phenomenon as though “It’s a fictional character that’s been created with the name of Michael Moore.” ("Michael Moore has harsh words for critics", MSNBC, 2007-06-16.) It seems that Moore's shrill and questionable blending of opinion and fact inspire others to adopt the same methods in attacking him.
Have a look at these sites and you begin sense the hysteria in the tone, which I suppose is to be expected- the moderators and contributors must have a particularly blunted axe to grind to invest so much energy in such a negative enterprise directed at one individual.
Whatever slant one takes on his politics and ethics as a filmmaker, it cannot be denied that he is certainly successful in reaching an audience. Moore's two documentaries Fahrenheit 911 and Bowling for Columbine are respectively two of the highest grossing documentaries world wide.
Perhaps the detractors are simply envious.
Continuing with my 'now and then' series of posts, I had a look at Moore's most recent release SiCKO, and traipsed through the back catalogue to his first documnetary feature, Roger and Me. Read on for the reviews...
Roger and Me (1987)
Directed by Michael Moore
Flint, Michigan - in the early 1980s General Motors Chairman Roger Smith, instituted a mass lay-off of automotive factory workers, crippling an industry that for decades had underwritten the prosperity of a town that had embodied the ideal marriage between corporate America and its people.
There are many beautifully constructed moments in Roger and Me that evoke the sad decline of a community that staked its life and pride on the economic prosperity that the automotive industry provided. There's the attempts of the Flint Convention and Visitors Bureau to inject new economic life into Flint with a host of new projects - a shiny new Hyatt Regency Hotel, a state of the art shopping mall, a theme park dedicated to all things automotive (Autoworld, displaying the world's largest functioning engine!) and a re-energised campaign to attract American tourists to Flint with a brand new slogan - 'Flint: our new spark will surprise you!' These ventures all fail miserably and, although Moore's main purpose seems to be to lampoon the architects of these ludicrous schemes, I couldn't help but feel sad for the misplaced enthusiasm they had invested in them. In line with the man thesis of the film, that Roger Smith's economically ruthless decision effectively crippled the town, we are treated to a harrowing account of the human toll that the slump has created: mass unemployment, a swathe of evictions, and a spate of violent crime that climaxes in the public indictment by Money Magazine that Flint is the 'worst place to live in America.' Outraged by this insult in the national media, Flint citizens gather to publicly burn Money Magazine and enthuse about all the great things it is to be a resident of Flint, a moment that - because of the context of societal degradation that Moore places it in - has a desperate quality to it.
In his first foray into filmmaking, Moore clearly establishes the features that have characterised all his films thus far - ploughing through archive footage for ironic effect, engaging in stunts and incursions into enemy territory full of rhetorical questions and insincere requests, and the use of juxtapositions designed to embarrass or illuminate the hypocrisy of Moore's chosen targets. It is the use of juxtaposition which is the most powerfully, and dubiously, employed device in Roger and Me. One particular figure who reappears throughout the film is the county Sherriff, who stoically and unemotionally carries out his job of evicting tenants from their homes when they've fallen behind in their rent. Moore cuts back to this grim process every time he wants to make a point about the inequality, hypocrisy and emptiness that is eating away at the perceived heart of Flint. He juxtaposes this image with pompous elderly retirees playing golf in pastel sportsgear. He juxtaposes it with a 'Great Gatsby Party' where the elegant upper crust of Flint sing the praises of their town and try to downplay the seriousness of GM's recent action. And finally he uses it in juxtaposition with Roger Smith's annual Christmas address, the crowning irony of the film, where Moore confronts Smith about a family that was being evicted from their home the day before Christmas eve. Smith justifiably defends himself vociferously, and the sequence makes a powerful emotional point, but it's a typical instance in Moore's polemical approach where sentimentality is pasted on in thick swathes, undercutting the power of the message that he hammers home with such force. There's another instance where, during one of the evictions, the camera lingers on a young black boy running between his former home and the pile of possessions that his family have stacked on the curb. It's certainly terrible that this little boy has to endure the experience of being forcibly uprooted, but the way that Moore employs the image is crudely sentimental and manipulative because of the lack of context given in regard to this event. As a viewer, you are instructed what to think about this image, which is a lazy and crude form of story-telling that smacks of condescension.
Putting aside the questionable aspects of Moore's mode of filmmaking, and the political debate that continues to swirl around it, Roger and Me is an entertaining and very funny film. Although he lacerates his hometown and the false image of confidence that it attempts to project in the face of disaster, it appears that he genuinely laments the decline of Flint and everything that that decline represents about an increasingly materialistic and inequitable American society.
Sicko (2007)
Directed by Michael Moore
Sicko is a refinement of the story-telling approach that has made Michael Moore such a popular, and populist, figure in documentary filmmaking throughout the world.
Moore takes us through the horror-stories of several Americans, those with and without insurance cover, detailing the cynical manoeuvres that major insurers employ in an attempt to release themselves from an obligation to pay out when a claim is made. The mechanics are bluntly laid out by a former investigator of health insurance claims, a middleman who would adopt any tactic to achieve his employers aim, denial of care. He explains one particularly outrageous aspect of this labyrinthine system, where a pre-existing condition of an insured person could be used as grounds to deny a claim whether or not they knew about it or sought treatment for the condition prior to applying for cover. Denial is a frequently used word in Moore's description of how the US system works. Denial of payment. Denial of care. Denial of responsibility. It's an extreme symptom of a market-driven system that has Moore traces back to the years of Nixon's presidency. Nixon's fastidious habit of recording his every conversaiton has left us with an an exchange between him and John Ehrlichman (one of Nixon's advisers who was implicated in the Watergate affair) where they discuss a new system of health care that emphasises one damning point: ""...the less care they give them, the more money they make."
Moore takes us through the interconnected system of kick-backs, political donations, board positions and intense lobbying that underwrites the cartel between the insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies and a government that creates law and policy sustaining the big end of town. The indictment of the US Health system that Moore argues in his broad-sweeping manner would probably be enough material for a documentary in itself, but he goes further afield, comparing the US situation with that of the UK, France and even Cuba. In a sequence that is classic Moore sentimentality, he takes several rescue workers suffering illnesses resulting from their participation in 9/11 rescue efforts for care at the state-of-the-art medical facility at Guantanamo Bay. Floating in a hire-boat just outside the exclusion zone of the high-security detention centre, Moore requests through a megaphone that the rescue workers be admitted for care. Receiving no response, they head to Cuba where they are treated (for free) by Cuban medical professionals. It is a moving moment when these people, who've been in a void of hopelessness, unable to have their conditions treated in their home country, are finally treated humanely (with no worries about payment) by a nation which is demonised in the American consciousness.
The theme underlying all this commentary, as with Roger and Me, is the degradation of basic human values that comes about in a purely market-driven system ruled by an uncaring elite. As with all of his films, Moore simplifies the issues, trumpeting shrill criticisms of the perceived villains (Corporate America and their Government lackeys) without offering any real solutions to the problems he outlines. In spite of this, Sicko is a harrowing film in many respects, and makes me very glad I wasn't born in the USA.
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Comment by Cleon
on Pedantry and Dr Plonk
Bad Boy bubby is an awesome film that every Australian (at the very least) should see. I just watched Alexandra's project and it was an intense experience. Certainly not one to watch with the family...
He's a very intersting filmmaker and he's had an interesting adventure to get to the point he's at. I remember I saw him give a talk where he observed that he was considered by his teachers and peers at film school to be a good potential 1st Assistant Director (a mostly non-creative role) and not much more. Now he's considered to be one of Australia's premiere 'Art' directors, because he struggled in the wilderness for many years with that dream alone in mind. Kinda like the plot to Dingo now that I think about it.