Fahrenheit 9/11
. . . an explosive and heart wrenching piece of cinema . . .
By Mark Salisbury
After all the furor surrounding the Disney company’s decision not to release Michael Moore’s incendiary new documentary, Fahrenheit 9/11 the world’s press finally got to see what the fuss was all about and what exactly had gotten Disney in such a lather when the film was shown on Monday in competition at the Cannes Film Festival. Less a documentary than a one man crusade against the current incumbent of the White House, Moore’s blistering film makes a persuasive case as it takes aim at the Bush administration and goes for jugular. Moore takes as his starting point George W’s controversial victory of the 2000 presidential election, following through to the September 11th attacks in New York and Washington. He picks apart the Bush’s family ties with the Saudis, and in particular asks how 24 members of the Bin Laden family were allowed to leave the U.S. with White House approval in the days following 9/11, as well as delving into a subsequent fictional war on terror—the Bush-led witch hunt for Sadaam—rather than going after Al-Qaeda—and right up to the current conflict up to Iraq and the realization that maybe America had gotten itself involved in another Vietnam.
Often accused of being a sensationalist, going for the heart rather than the head, Moore actually exhibits a remarkable degree of restraint here in regards to 9/11. Rather than show the horror of the attacks on the Twin Towers, the screen simply goes black as he relies on the sounds rather than the visuals to convey the horror of that day. While Moore’s voice (both literally and metaphorically) is all over the film, Moore himself is seen less than in previous documentaries. As with his Oscar-winning Bowling for Columbine, his scattershot approach is occasionally frustrating (for instance, Prime Minister Tony Blair, Bush’s most vigorous ally is barely mentioned), but mostly successful. We witness a Christmas Eve of sorts in Iraq as troops burst into somone's home to arrest him, and follow a pair of US Marines check out lower class neighborhoods in search of willing recruits. Moore also interviews Lila Lipscomb, a resident in his hometown of Flynt, Michigan, who lost a son in Iraq, and whose last letter home she reads out on camera. The scenes involving Lila are the most poignant and moving. In terms of the film’s humor, the majority of the jokes are inevitably at Bush’s expense. He’s an easy target, but Moore simply offers him up to be laughed at.
Moore also includes some very disturbing footage of dead Iraqi children in Baghdad—footage never shown on US TV. Plus there are interviews with fresh-faced US troops who play loud rock music through their headphones and take pot-shots at the enemy like they were playing videogames. Back home, he travels to Capitol Hill to try and convince several Congressmen to enlist their children in the Army. He fails.
Even though there’s not much new ground covered here (a lot of the same material was picked over in Moore’s recent best-seller), and despite the fact the film is arguably around 15-20 minutes too long, this is, nevertheless, an explosive and heart wrenching piece of cinema that should provide ample ammunition for those who are fast becoming disillusioned by the increasing body count of American soldiers in Iraq. If Moore finds a brave US distributor ready to step up to the plate, he’s likely to have an even greater than Bowling for Columbine. As for the future for the president? That’s up to you folks . . .
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