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In Need of a Cure
(July 13,
2007)
By now the world’s familiar with the pot stirring
shenanigans of Michael Moore. In “Roger & Me” it was the documentary
filmmaker’s impossible quest to land an interview with General Motors head,
Roger Smith, in “Bowling for Columbine,” Moore chased after former NRA
president and iconic actor, Charlton Heston, and
in “Fahrenheit 9/11,” he escorted the mother of a slain GI to Washington,
DC to confront President Bush. With “Sicko,”’
Moore continues the trend by loading up a boat full of 9/11 rescue
volunteers afflicted with various respiratory illnesses and sails them into
Guantanamo Bay, propelled by the premise that the
terror suspects held at the notorious US detention camp are receiving
better health care than the 9/11 volunteers.
The stunts make for
amusing cinema, especially with Moore situating his bulk before the camera, part
impromptu referee, part enlightening commentator and ever ready court
jester, but such gimmicks also carry the tang of exploitation. As Moore pursued Smith in “Roger & Me,” the only one
with their neck at risk was the intrepid filmmaker. Impassioned and earnest
his unorthodox in his topsy-turvy stone turning was applauded as a
refreshing change up. “Bowling for Columbine” too was blessed with a
stellar touching moment as Moore led two boys, both wounded in the
Columbine shootings, into a Wal-Mart to confront the store’s management
about their policy to sell ammunition across the counter with few
restrictions or safeguards. Later, the trio notches victory when the store
pulls ammo stocks from their shelves, but what if it had gone another way?
What if during their time on the road with Moore, the boys missed too much
school, their grades slipped and later, their families slapped with a
suffocating lawsuit by the corporate superstore? That might make for better
onscreen drama for Moore
to rattle his saber at, but at what price to those spurred into the
polemic’s crusade?
For point of reference,
let’s cut into the fast food horror story, “Super Size Me.” The fact that filmmaker Morgan Spurlock
plugged himself into the role of human guinea pig and quaffed down copious
amounts of transfat leaden burgers and fries gave
the film instant credibility and a profound sense of intimacy. Now imagine
for a moment that Spurlock had tapped a homeless person in need of a meal
as the one who consumed nothing but McDonald’s super meals for months on
end? At first it might be warming to see a starving individual eat, but
then as malnutrition and life critical measures like blood pressure and
cholesterol veered off the charts and into the realm of death invoking, how
then would Spurlock’s experiment be received?
Cruel? Exploitative?
Disingenuous?
Somewhere in the making
of “Bowling for Columbine,” Moore began to cross that line. It’s there that wafts
of the self-aggrandizing, so stifling in “Fahrenheit 9/11,” and jury-rigged
confrontations, began to show their unsavory roots. As human and defining a
moment it was to see Moore
champion the cause of the two shooting victims and give them a leg up in
the healing process, his dogged pursuit of Charlton Heston
lacked integrity and compassion. Sure the former NRA head with a famous mug
would ordinarily be fair game, but at the time confronted, he had been
recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Even applying a gentle hand, Moore’s takedown of the addled Heston
echoed more schoolyard bully than the righteous vanquisher he embodied in
“Roger & Me.” And who could forget Lila Lipscomb, the grieving mother
of a soldier killed in Iraq, who after reading her son’s last letter in
“Fahrenheit 9/11” is led across the country to the Washington Mall to exact
some form of vindication from the Bush administration. For all the build
up, the payoff never comes. There’s no cathartic moment. All there is is an emotion-charged Lipscomb pacing to and fro with
the White House looming ominously in distance. Her wounds are ripped open.
Her pain and frustration are palpable, but the horror that rises to the top
is the realization that she’s ostensibly a carefully positioned pawn in Moore’s at-all-costs campaign to condemn Bush and the
wars in the Middle East.
“Sicko”
however features the most grandiloquent gem in Moore’s portfolio of incendiary artifices. As I
watched the boat load up and set sail to Cuba, I was left with questions that had little to
do with what was on the screen. I totally forgot that Moore had earlier made me stop and wonder if my
health care provider could screw me in some devious way as depicted in his
catalog of American health care horror stories. I forgot about the
machinist forced to choose which of his severed digits he wanted to get
sewn back on his hand because he could not afford them all and the nurse
denied last hope treatment for her otherwise terminally ill husband because
it was “experimental.” I also forgot about all the nagging “how does it
work?” concerns I had as Moore hopped from Canada to London and France
showing us just how rosy social medicine was at that no one ever had to pay
a dime for it. It was all gone the second that boat drifted across the
screen. Instead of questioning the ills of the American health care system,
I was more concerned with what Moore had said to these people to get them to buy
into his pied piper harbor cruise. Did these people sign waivers
indemnifying Moore from any down stream repercussions, legal suits
and so on? Or did they just blindly trust in Michael? It was then that I
realized the documentary I wanted to see was some sort of alumni reunion of
Moore’s films where the subjects could speak candidly
about their experiences and the process enroute
to the final firestorm on screen. Just think of it, Moore on Moore, it has kind of an “Adaptation”-esque surrealism to it.
Still Moore’s an imposing force. Whether you think he’s a
circus showman or reform minded pundit, his ability to spark debate is
incontrovertible. Wherever he shines his camera talk ensues, even if it’s
talk about Moore being pushy. It’s what he wants. He’s turned
documentary film into a political swaying power. And it’s a medium that
growing. Just look at the amplitude that “Super Size Me” and “An
Inconvenient Truth” have had on such issues as the
ills of fast food and the dire need to preserve the planet’s fragile
ecosystem. Moore may gotten to big to
be the kind of documentary filmmaker who can slide in under radar, but in
his last few go rounds Moore
and his stunts have been more press worthy than the issues he has chosen to
champion. A little less Moore
and a little more Flint, Michigan (Moore’s home town depicted in “Roger & Me”) fire.
- TBM
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