Michael Moore’s latest film, Where to Invade Next, examines the best other countries have to offer and why we don’t match up.
Chances are you either hate or love Michael Moore; his antics really don’t allow for much gray area. The incendiary director first rose to prominence in 1989 with Roger and Me and Bowling for Columbine (2002).
He achieved international acclaim with the release of Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004), a scathing attack on the presidency of George W. Bush, the invasion of Iraq, and its handling by American corporate news media. Fahrenheit won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival (receiving a 20-minute standing ovation in the process, among the longest in festival history); it has since become the highest-grossing documentary of all time
Another controversial election year means Moore is back behind the camera for a political documentary, Where to Invade Next, opening today at FilmScene, 118 E. College St.
This film, as with his others, hones in on our great nation’s supremely overinflated ego. However, unlike the title might suggest, it doesn’t concern itself directly with America’s notoriously gung-ho attitude in the face of war or even with our military at all, really. Rather, the film indirectly shines a light on American inferiority by highlighting the achievements of other, smaller countries in areas on which we Americans so pride ourselves.
Where to Invade follows Moore as he travels across Europe and into the Middle East, paying visits to a variety of countries, each of which possess an advantage over the United States in one area or another. He visits Finland, a country whose education system far outranks that of the U.S., and highlights its holistic approach to schooling, one in which well-roundedness is emphasized over an ability to pass strictly regimented standardized tests.
Like many of America’s most pointed liberal political figureheads (Stephen Colbert, in particular, comes to mind), the absurdity of the recent election cycle, and the increasingly dire situation the country finds itself in has pushed Moore to adopt a voice so sarcastic it borders on lackadaisical. Marking a stark shift from the fervor with which Moore delivered his previous films, the director’s new voice allows for subtler and intermittently more effective commentary.
At times, however, the stinging potency of scenes such as “the boat party” or “My Pet Goat” from Fahrenheit is dearly missed. Certainly, the subject matter Moore is tackling with his most recent effort doesn’t provide nearly the visceral intensity that some of his previous films did, but nonetheless the impassioned and authoritative voice is — if not totally absent — greatly diminished.
The closest we get to the Moore of old is when he visits Germany and illuminates the country’s shame and subsequent self-awareness in the wake of the Holocaust. He finds the streets littered with monuments and installations memorializing those lost in the genocide, masterfully causing the audience to wonder what that degree of self-awareness would do for America — a country that still somehow lives in denial of its wartime (and, in the case of colonial America, even genocidal) mistakes.
During an election year in which large-scale educational and economic reform have become regular talking points, at least in the Democratic debates, Moore delivers a thoughtful exploration of what real benefits our status as a “world power” truly grants us.
In providing a glimpse through the looking glass at the achievements of our fellow nations, Moore holds up a mirror in which we are also able to perceive our own country’s flaws and where we might look to improve. And yes, it’s supposed to be uncomfortable.