Fahrenheit 9/11

Fahrenheit 9/11
by Ed Owens

More agit-prop than documentary, Fahrenheit 9/11 is Michael Moore's best and worst film, managing to entertain even as it infuriates, intrigue even as it repulses, gratify even as it annoys. Though the film is sure to provoke a great deal of discussion (and no small amount of partisan bickering), it's unlikely to provoke a response that wasn't already determined long before even buying a ticket. Part sprawling conspiracy theory, part finely honed inquiry, Fahrenhei , at its core, is all raging polemic, an openly vicious and viciously funny full frontal assault on George W. Bush. Sure to be lauded by liberals and criticized by conservatives, Moore's film makes no pretense of objectivity, a blessing and a curse for a film which Moore has stated is intended to influence swing voters away from re-electing the sitting President.

Moore starts, naturally enough, with the 2000 election, laying out the well-worn theory regarding Bush's theft of the presidency (Moore's criticism is broader here, including not only Bush and Co., but also the Democrats who failed to respond appropriately), followed by a lengthy section laying out the financial ties between Bush and the Saudi royal family, including members of the Bin Laden clan. Though Moore is less physically present here than in the previous Bowling For Columbine, his voice-over is nearly continuous, drawing together the rapid-fire factoids Moore throws at the screen fast and furiously (many of which are derived from Craig Unger's book House of Bush, House of Saud). The technique actually works against Moore for a time, things coming and going so quickly that the viewer is left with only the sense of an argument rather than a fully fleshed-out position. Moore cannot help but attribute motive where one cannot be directly supported, and infer causality where one cannot be directly shown, but supporters will surely see natural progression while detractors will see misrepresentation, an inevitability given the extremely polarized political climate.

Once the film's focus shifts to Iraq , Moore finds more of a balanced stride, painting a more coherent picture without losing any of the fire. While Moore spends too much time belaboring the obvious (few if any would disagree with the point that war is bad), it is here that he finds his greatest success in the form of Lila Lipscombe, a “moderate conservative” from Moore's hometown of Flint who has recently lost a son in Iraq. Lipscombe's emotional turmoil is genuine, even when Moore 's exploitation of it is not, and she manages to more effectively embody some of the more pressing questions surrounding the war than Moore can, even when we disagree with her answers. Unfortunately, Moore can't be trusted to simply let Lipscombe be, and ends the movie on another tired stunt that, while amusing, is empty and shallow next to her powerful grief and emotional sincerity.

The debate over the film's accuracy and Moore's larger issues of credibility has been raging since long before the film premiered at Cannes (which, as Moore and Co. are quick to remind us, greeted it with a rather lengthy standing ovation, though the exact length is also hotly debated), and will no doubt continue in earnest now that the film has opened to sold out theaters and long lines at the box office. I will leave the point by point analysis to others. Like Bowling for Columbine, Fahrenheit 9/11 is a poorly made documentary, but a particularly effective piece of agit-prop, managing to inspire the left and incense the right in nearly equal measure.