At What Temperature Does Celluliod Burn?
Jun. 28th, 2004 03:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omorkaSaw Fahrenheit 911 last night (finally). It encapsulates everything that is wealful and harmful about Michael Moore.
On the side of weal, it articulates a very thorough overview of the case against Bush in particular and the intersection of the upper-class with the right-wing in general. It's also interestingly ambivalent (unusual for Moore) about the working-class sons and daughters who go into the military and the parents and recruiters who send them, although his depiction of the servicefolk evolves over the course of the movie - callous and flippant about the death they carry at the beginning of their section, troubled and frightened in the middle, and wounded or dead at the end. Moore is field-dependent in the extreme, and so are his films - they lack nuance, but carry quite a punch.
There, also, is his flaw. The two "TV Nation"-style stunts fall fairly flat (the first is better than the second). More importantly, while Moore has learned to keep himself and his assholitude mostly out of the eye of the camera for this one, there are still numerous points where I had to lean over the Spouse and whisper "asshole." He exploits grief shamelessly, both for the 911 victims or their survivors and for the families of the servicepeople killed in action. Moreover, he fails to fully make the connection between those two griefs - or, more to the point, show that the grief of the second in no way pays for or soothes the grief of the first. He just flatly splays private grief on the screen, lingering minutes after the grievers clearly wish he'd turn away.
Having said that, grief is more powerful than anger. Perhaps this was the only way Moore could think of to temper his own sarcastic rage.
A few tacky comments:
I simultaneously started laughing and burst into tears when the bereaved mom at the end accidentally quoted King Theoden. I suppose it's a universal sentiment, but ay . . .
Lingering on Wolfowitz licking his comb was assholitude of a major degree. That has nothing to to with legitimate criticism of the man. In fact, that entire sequence was just this side of an ad hominem attack - don't hate these guys because they're greedy and corrupt, hate them because they're gross.
Oh, my gods, Ashcroft can actually sing. Paradoxically, this makes him more dangerous to me, not more sympathetic - one more gift he perverts for ill ends. Of course, this is someone about whom one of the Fametrackers commented "I voted for a hole in the ground to keep him out of office."
Did anyone else notice Dubya was a lot more together and articulate in his quotes from the late '80s and early '90s than he was in the later quotes? Maybe he shouldn't have quit drinking, after all . . . Post-1997, he seems to have extreme trouble thinking, much less speaking, in complete sentences.
There was probably some asshattery in showing the entire seven minutes Dubya sat in front of the (multiracial, incidentally) Florida kindergarten, but damn, how blank can a face be? Anyone ever seen the Clerks animated TV show? Remember how the cartoon version of Jay has these tiny black dots for eyes? I swear, seven minutes of eyes just like that.
In conclusion, Moore is certainly necessary. I find it interesting that people like Moore and Franken not only have appeared, but have gained such audiences in recent years. Why is it that the right's pundits use the outward forms of the pulpit - preaching, ranting, pontificating - while the left's use the outward forms of the stand-up comedian - sarcasm, irony, stupid stunts? I still can't stand his assholitude, but if it takes an asshole to make this movie - not so much a documentary as a well-documented visual editorial, but a powerful one nonetheless - then so be it.
On the side of weal, it articulates a very thorough overview of the case against Bush in particular and the intersection of the upper-class with the right-wing in general. It's also interestingly ambivalent (unusual for Moore) about the working-class sons and daughters who go into the military and the parents and recruiters who send them, although his depiction of the servicefolk evolves over the course of the movie - callous and flippant about the death they carry at the beginning of their section, troubled and frightened in the middle, and wounded or dead at the end. Moore is field-dependent in the extreme, and so are his films - they lack nuance, but carry quite a punch.
There, also, is his flaw. The two "TV Nation"-style stunts fall fairly flat (the first is better than the second). More importantly, while Moore has learned to keep himself and his assholitude mostly out of the eye of the camera for this one, there are still numerous points where I had to lean over the Spouse and whisper "asshole." He exploits grief shamelessly, both for the 911 victims or their survivors and for the families of the servicepeople killed in action. Moreover, he fails to fully make the connection between those two griefs - or, more to the point, show that the grief of the second in no way pays for or soothes the grief of the first. He just flatly splays private grief on the screen, lingering minutes after the grievers clearly wish he'd turn away.
Having said that, grief is more powerful than anger. Perhaps this was the only way Moore could think of to temper his own sarcastic rage.
A few tacky comments:
I simultaneously started laughing and burst into tears when the bereaved mom at the end accidentally quoted King Theoden. I suppose it's a universal sentiment, but ay . . .
Lingering on Wolfowitz licking his comb was assholitude of a major degree. That has nothing to to with legitimate criticism of the man. In fact, that entire sequence was just this side of an ad hominem attack - don't hate these guys because they're greedy and corrupt, hate them because they're gross.
Oh, my gods, Ashcroft can actually sing. Paradoxically, this makes him more dangerous to me, not more sympathetic - one more gift he perverts for ill ends. Of course, this is someone about whom one of the Fametrackers commented "I voted for a hole in the ground to keep him out of office."
Did anyone else notice Dubya was a lot more together and articulate in his quotes from the late '80s and early '90s than he was in the later quotes? Maybe he shouldn't have quit drinking, after all . . . Post-1997, he seems to have extreme trouble thinking, much less speaking, in complete sentences.
There was probably some asshattery in showing the entire seven minutes Dubya sat in front of the (multiracial, incidentally) Florida kindergarten, but damn, how blank can a face be? Anyone ever seen the Clerks animated TV show? Remember how the cartoon version of Jay has these tiny black dots for eyes? I swear, seven minutes of eyes just like that.
In conclusion, Moore is certainly necessary. I find it interesting that people like Moore and Franken not only have appeared, but have gained such audiences in recent years. Why is it that the right's pundits use the outward forms of the pulpit - preaching, ranting, pontificating - while the left's use the outward forms of the stand-up comedian - sarcasm, irony, stupid stunts? I still can't stand his assholitude, but if it takes an asshole to make this movie - not so much a documentary as a well-documented visual editorial, but a powerful one nonetheless - then so be it.
