Fahrenheit 11/9 (2018)

15 Tuesday Jan 2019

Tags

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, America, Democracy, Documentary, Donald Trump, Flint Michigan, Michael Moore, Politics, Review, Stoneman Douglas High School, West Virginia

D: Michael Moore / 128m

With: Michael Moore, Ruth Ben-Ghiat, Katie Endicott, Ben Ferencz, Mona Hanna-Attisha, David Hogg, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Richard Ojeda, Robert Pickell, John Podesta, Bernie Sanders, Nayyirah Shariff, Timothy Snyder, Rashida Tlaib

Where to start…? As well as being the beginning for this review, you can imagine that was also the quandary faced by Michael Moore when it came time to decide what to include in his latest documentary, a state of the nation address that shows the movie maker at his angriest and unhappiest. Moore has been chronicling the on-going downfall of America for over thirty years, and here his passion and talent for exposing the hypocrisy at the heart of American politics is firmly at the forefront of Fahrenheit 11/9‘s clarion call to the American people. The movie begins with the election of Donald Trump as President, and Moore asking the question, “How the fuck did this happen?” But if you think that’s something of a slap in the face, there’s more to come, as Moore examines the uncomfortable relationship between Trump and his daughter, Ivanka; explores the correlation between Trump’s racist comments and the increase in systemic racism; abjures the political system that encouages the complacency that allows Trump’s recidivism to go unchecked; and asserts that democracy – true democracy – is something that America has never experienced.

Away from Trump, Moore returns to his home town of Flint, Michigan, a once thriving town that is now a shadow of its former self. With the town struggling to keep itself going, in 2011 State Governor Rick Snyder backed a plan to replace the mains water pipeline that supplied clear water to Flint from Lake Huron. While the new pipeline was being built, Snyder also backed the decision to use the Flint River as the primary source of clean water for the town. But the river was toxic, and though officials repeatedly told residents it was safe to drink, soon people were getting sick. Lead levels in the water were found to be so high that the people of Flint, including between six and twelve thousand children, had been effectively poisoned. There was an outbreak of Legionnaires Disease that claimed the lives of ten people. And nothing was done about it until recently. Even a visit from Barack Obama failed to alleviate the issue – and all because he asked for a glass of water. And that’s without the military coming in and using abandoned buildings and deprived areas in Flint as a place to carry out their war games. How much worse can it get for Flint? Even Moore doesn’t know.

Moore also turns his attention to the West Virginia teachers’ strike in early 2018, and the aftermath of the Stoneman Douglas High School shooting that took place around the same time. With both these events, Moore shows how a new generation of Americans such as Richard Ojeda are beginning to challenge the political status quo with shows of solidarity and national marches. Moore shows there is still hope for the future, and makes the point that perhaps the nation needs this period of social and political upheaval before it can move on more profitably as a democracy. But it all comes back to Trump, the master liar and manipulator who took advantage of a bankrupt political system and used it to his own ends. To get an idea of how much Moore detests the man, see how uncomfortable he looks when he and Trump appear together on The Roseanne Show (and he has to be nice to the future President), and then watch in astonishment as he presents us with footage of Adolf Hitler speaking with Trump’s voice. Heavy-handed? Most definitely. And what follows isn’t the most rigorous of historical analogies, either, but as a warning of what might be around the corner, it’s chilling. And who’s to say Moore is wrong? After all, he was one of the few people who predicted Trump would win the presidency…

Rating: 9/10 – fiercely argued, and presenting facts and figures that often get left out of the argument – 75% of Americans believe immigration is good for the US; Barack Obama took more money from Goldman Sachs than any other contributor – Fahrenheit 11/9 sees Michael Moore back to doing what he does best: holding up a mirror to the myriad failings of American politics; necessarily hard to watch if you have any empathy for a country that has no idea how to make itself great again (or even averagely successful), it’s a movie that takes no prisoners on either side, but which also manages to find grains of hope in amongst all the fiascos and disasters.

President Evil (2018)

31 Wednesday Oct 2018

Posted by dullwood68 in Movies

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Comedy, Donald Trump, Horror, Jose Rosete, Libertybelle, Politics, Review, Richard Lowry, Sitara Attaie, Spoof

D: Richard Lowry / 81m

Cast: Jose Rosete, Sitara Attaie, Korbin Miles, Lys Perez, Amber Moone, Jacob Jorgensen, Kyle Sing, Ryan Quinn Adams, Vinn Sander, Christian Hutcherson, Kevin Alain, Johanna Rae

Well, it is Halloween, after all…

On the night of the 1980 US presidential election, young David Barron dons a Ronald Reagan mask and brutally murders his ex-porn star mother, Scorchy McDaniels (Rae). Thirty-eight years later, and on the eve of the mid-term elections, David (Adams) escapes from the Lar-A-Mago sanitarium where he’s spent the intervening years. Returning to his home town of Libertybelle, David takes to wearing a Donald Trump mask and hanging out at his childhood home. Meanwhile, Dr Lutin (Sing), his doctor, heads there in the hope of finding David – though he has an ulterior motive for doing so. In the same neighbourhood, best friends Lana (Attaie), Blanca (Perez), and Medjine (Boone) are preparing to have a pre-election party ahead of their participation in an anti-Republican rally on the day. Along with Blanca’s younger brother, Pepe (Jorgensen), and their transgender friend, Gabriel (Sander), the party gets off to a good start, but it isn’t long before David is picking them off one by one, while the town sheriff (Rosete) does his best to come to their aid before it’s entirely too late…

The pitch must have been a fairly simple one: hey, why don’t we make a spoof of the original Halloween where instead of a Captain Kirk mask, the killer wears a Donald Trump mask instead? And the response must have been equally simple: great idea, go make it. But in the tradition of simple ideas made on a restricted budget, President Evil is an uneven, occasionally inspired, occasionally woeful movie with a ton of good intentions that don’t always pay off. It begins with an opening credits sequence that replicates the style of Halloween’s own opening credits, but replaces the jack o’ lantern with a Trump mask. Then there’s an updated recreation of the young Michael Myers’ murder of his sister that is shot entirely from David’s point of view and ends with him being unmasked outside his home. So far, so reassuringly competent homage, though with the kind of comedic elements that reveal the makers’ broader intentions for their story. Nods and winks in the direction of John Carpenter’s seminal movie follow, as well as Easter eggs that reference some of his other movies, while the script also adds further homages from the likes of Psycho (1960) and Young Frankenstein (1974).

The comedy is a mixed bag all by itself, and ranges from deft visual flourishes (David’s Trump mask hides someone who looks like Trump), to irritating bouts of frat humour (best summed up by Miles’ popping up at odd moments as characters as varied as a perverted priest and a Jared Kushner look-a-like), and further Mel Brooks’ appropriations (“Be a Smarty and Join the Republican Party”). Like Halloween, there’s a minimum of blood and gore, but there’s a singular lack of tension throughout, and the killings are often poorly staged and framed. The performances are broadly acceptable for this sort of thing, though Attaie does make for an appealing heroine, and Lowry seems more confident when bending the knee to Carpenter’s original than he does with the newer material; it’s as if the obvious difference between them was a given he had no control over. But if there’s one aspect that the script – by Lowry and Gregory P. Wolk – does get right, it’s in depicting the anger and distrust of ethnic minorities in current day America towards the xenophobic attitudes of the predominantly white, privileged political system. The movie is strident in its approach, but is also unapologetic about being so, and on that level – and like the best of horror movies – proves to be a telling reflection of a section of US society’s real fears.

Rating: 5/10 – though there’s much that doesn’t work, and much else that should have been jettisoned at the earliest opportunity, there’s still much to enjoy in President Evil, not the least of which is the way it lampoons Donald Trump and his ill-advised ramblings; to call this a post-millennial horror comedy for post-millennials who believe they might be the last generation able to appreciate something like this, may be stretching things, but when it’s en point, there’s nothing “Fake” about it.

The Oscars 2017 – A Review

01 Wednesday Mar 2017

Posted by dullwood68 in Movies

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2017, Acceptance speeches, Controversy, Donald Trump, In Memoriam, Jimmy Kimmel, Oscars, Presenters, Racism, Review, Sara Bareilles

This year’s Oscars ceremony – that terrible, embarrassing mix-up aside – was a show that stayed true to its usual format, and by doing so, played it distressingly safe. There was a big opening production number courtesy of Justin Timberlake (performing a medley of songs that did at least manage to include his Oscar-nominated song “Can’t Stop This Feeling” from Trolls), and the sight of dozens of unrehearsed movie stars, industry bigwigs, and their plus ones trying to look cool while making it seem as if the only dance manual they’d ever read was called The Dad’s Guide to Hip Displacements on the Dance Floor. You almost expected to hear Timberlake say “Tough crowd!” when he was finished.

Next up we had new host Jimmy Kimmel. His opening monologue took in some expected topics – last years’ #OscarsSoWhite controversy, amusing shout outs to some of the nominees, politics and the Donald, his feud with Matt Damon, and an extended pop at Meryl Streep for being over-rated – and on the whole was a pretty good routine, but it was also a little underwhelming. Even the jokes at Mel Gibson’s expense sounded like they’d been toned down by committee (Scientology? Really? Imagine if the Academy had hired Ricky Gervais this year). And while Kimmel was parlaying his talk show host routine into an Oscars gig, the phrase “safe pair of hands” must have been ricocheting through viewers’ minds across the world.

After so much controversy in 2016, 2017’s approach must have been prudence at all costs. And what could have been the most political and politicised Oscar ceremony ever, didn’t even come close. If tweeting Donald Trump was the best that Kimmel and his writers could come up with, then let’s announce it here: political satire is dead. It took a precise and stinging rebuke by Asghar Farhadi (who wasn’t even there in person) to fully remind people just how insidious Trump’s immigration ban is, and will be if it’s allowed to continue. Even Meryl Streep, who you would have thought would have relished her opportunity as a presenter to say a few choice words about her new President, was unexpectedly muted on the night; it was a far cry from her fiery speech at the Golden Globes.

So with the diversity issue addressed and put to bed, and politics never allowed to stay up past its bedtime anyway, what were we left with? Not a lot as it turned out. Certainly nothing that might have leavened the stale, predictable procession of largely dull presenters – Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson, anyone? – or staved off the overwhelming feeling of déja vu from all the regular platitudes trotted out each year. You know the ones, where each and every category is a unique and vital part of what makes the movies so special. There were the usual musical numbers, used to break up the monotony of award presentation/shots of loser(s) sucking it up for the cameras/semi-humorous quip by Kimmel/award presentation/shots of loser(s) sucking it up for the cameras, and though each was an oasis of merciful relief, they’re still entirely predictable both in their placement and their production (hands up anyone who didn’t think Sting would perform his song solo and picked out by a single spotlight?).

The show lasted three hours and forty-nine minutes, and though that’s a lot shorter than some years (hello, 2002!), it still felt longer. And there’s a curious time dilation that occurs at the Oscars: the last hour flies by in comparison to the rest of the show. It’s almost as if there’s a sudden rush to get things wrapped up for another year. (Though it’s a sure bet they would have liked more time this year: “What do you mean you’ve given Warren Beatty the wrong envelope?”) And as time goes on, the host’s role gets smaller and smaller, until almost every award or presenter is set up by a woman we never get to see, a voice from the Gods who clearly wants to get the job done and move on (like the rest of us).

So. What can the Academy do to pep things up a bit? Well, one way is to make the host more integral to the proceedings and not just a witty mouthpiece to open the show with. (Though it has to be acknowledged that Kimmel’s “hijacking” of a group of tourists was a terrific idea, even if he couldn’t stop himself from patronising some of them.) Whoever takes on the job next year – and it’s unlikely to be Kimmel; the Academy seem to be auditioning for long-term hosts each year, but not finding anyone they like enough – they should introduce every category and presenter, add a joke here or there at everyone’s expense, and generally take every opportunity they can to poke fun at the absurdity of a room full of rich celebrities slapping each other on the back for being so wonderful (unless you’re Denzel Washington, of course).

And for Pete’s sake, someone, somewhere, put a stop to the melancholy musical accompaniment to the In Memoriam section. This year we had Sara Bareilles singing Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides, Now. It’s a great song, and Bareilles has an amazing voice, but as Heath Ledger’s Joker might put it, “Why so serious?” Let’s really celebrate the people we’ve lost. Let’s remind ourselves why we’ll miss them, and do so by showing a montage of them at their best, not by picking out screen moments that aim for poignancy instead. If you look back at all the In Memoriams over the years, count how many comedians have been recognised through a clip or still that would have raised a laugh (good luck with that). (Oh, and they should make sure they get the right picture of someone, as well.)

And if you’re going to get two stars to present an award, then vet them first. Take a leaf out of John Cho and Leslie Mann’s book and make your material shine before you take the stage. Half the time, presenters make you wonder if English is their first language, or if they learn their lines phonetically. On a movie set they can remember pages and pages of dialogue; put them in front of a teleprompter and it’s like they’re all trying to audition for the biopic version of Life, Animated (2016). And whatever else happens, don’t wheel/aid/carry out someone who’s so old/infirm/frail that it looks like elder abuse (was it really necessary to have Katherine Johnson there?).

Lastly, if the Academy wants to do something really bold and different (and keep the running time down), then they should rethink the whole notion of acceptance speeches. While it’s nice to see the elation on the winners’ faces, no one really wants to hear them stutter out the names of people we’ve never heard of, or make the same old pleas for peace, love and understanding (it’s just reinforcing the point made in the previous paragraph). Let them grab their Oscars, wave them about for a few seconds, and then have them ushered them into the wings for their photoshoot.

And there you have it. In fairness, 2017’s show was better than some of the new century’s other outings, but it was still only fitfully entertaining, tied down as it was by its adherence to a production schedule that’s proving to be tired and less and less exciting to sit through each year. To paraphrase Jimmy Kimmel, “Remember that year when it seemed like the Oscars were really entertaining?”

Michael Moore in TrumpLand (2016)

24 Monday Oct 2016

Posted by dullwood68 in Movies

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American politics, Documentary, Donald Trump, Election, Hillary Clinton, Michael Moore, Review, Wilmington Ohio

D: Michael Moore, Dana Calderwood / 71m

With: Michael Moore

Filmed in front of a live audience at the Murphy Theatre in Wilmington, Ohio, where the majority of people there have already indicated they will vote for Donald Trump in the upcoming US Presidential election on 8 November, Michael Moore in Trumpland is aptly named. (In an ironic twist on the value afforded free speech in America, Moore originally planned to perform his show at the Midland Theatre in Newark, Ohio, but the management nixed the idea.) Moore addresses the the relative virtues of both candidates, and asks the audience why it is that of the two, Hillary Clinton has been so stigmatised and attacked by her peers since her husband became President back in 1993.

In practice, Moore is reliably left-wing, but prefers to be thought of as a political activist, so this is an unsurprising move (and movie) from Moore. Releasing such a documentary with only weeks to go before the election, there’s little chance he’ll have any discernible effect on the way people vote come 8 November, but ever the optimist, Moore gives it his best shot. His audience, supposedly made up of confirmed Trump voters, seem more than willing to give Moore’s less than impassioned rhetoric a chance, and he regularly picks up laughs at both candidate’s expense (there’s even a moment where some audience members stand and applaud him). With the audience increasingly agreeing with him (especially the women), Moore basks in the rosy glow of the political commentator who appears deliberately partisan – at first – but who then reveals his own preference for President.

What Moore does that is clever is not to vilify Donald Trump outright. Instead he highlights some of Trump’s more extreme views by having his Mexican and Muslim audience members segregated at the back of the theatre. The Mexicans, and one Guatemalan woman, are kept behind a representation of the wall Trump wants to build along the US-Mexico border. The Muslims are kept watch over by a drone, which at least isn’t armed. It’s broad, uncomfortable humour that is maintained throughout the show, and by picking on these particular ethnic communities, Moore ends up being just as objectionable in his approach as Trump is with his. The wall and the drone remain in place (apparently) throughout; did Moore need to be this heavyhanded?

With the Mexicans and the Muslims sidelined because of Trump’s dislike for them, Moore sidesteps around Trump entirely and focuses on the decline of the white American male. He reveals his theory that men are becoming increasingly unnecessary in a world where there are more women than men and the birth rate amongst males is declining. Anxiety about the male role – “there are more women in law schools than men” – is at the heart of the typical Trump voter, posits Moore, and he makes a convincing argument, even if it does require a bit of a leap of understanding. It’s an extended sequence that has many women in the audience nodding their heads in acknowledgment, and several of the men looking stony-faced and unhappy at their perceived masculinity being lampooned in such a way.

He moves on to further highlight the demographic that is likely to vote for Trump based on promises he’s made: the poor, disadvantaged person who doesn’t have a job, maybe not even a home or a family, but who does have a vote, that one precious right that will mean they’ll vote for Trump because he’s promised to make things right for them, and he’s promised to go after the institutions that have contributed to so many people becoming dispossessed. As Moore puts it, “Trump’s election is going to be the biggest ‘Fuck you’ ever recorded in human history”. It’s a powerful moment, and the audience is deathly quiet, hanging on Moore’s every word, because he makes the one salient point that everyone seems to be overlooking: voting for Trump will be voting for the wrong reason, because Trump has no intention on following through on his promises.

Moore follows this up with a mock TV news report that shows what the US will be like once Trump is elected and moves into the White House. It’s a clumsy, awkward device, and it sits uneasily against the convincing, well thought out oratory of the previous minutes. It’s often the way with Moore: he makes a passionate plea for change or understanding or the use of common sense, and then he bludgeons everyone with the same point, almost as if he thinks he’s dealing with people who couldn’t possibly work it out for themselves (which is ironic, as that’s what he’s hoping for).

And then it’s Hillary’s turn, in the movie’s final section, and the one where Moore wears his heart, almost literally, on his sleeve. He likes Hillary, once called her a “hot, shit-kicking feminist babe”, and he bemoans the treatment she’s received over the years. This leads to Moore bringing in Pope Francis because he thinks they have a lot in common (and yes, this is a bit of a stretch), and he asks the audience to say nice things about her (even the Republicans and Trump voters). It’s a heartfelt but naïve approach, as Moore makes the most of Hillary’s virtues, and he explains why everyone has a chance to atone for the way she was treated in the past, and is still treated now.

By the end, Moore has made his position clear: vote for Hillary because it’s the right thing to do for the country, for America. The audience seems to agree with him because he gets a standing ovation. But throughout there have been shots of those audience members who clearly don’t agree with him, and who remain unmoved, even when he appears to be remarking on Trump’s good points. As a result it all smacks of too little, too late, and Moore himself lacks the anger and the disgust seen in previous documentaries. He’s impassioned at times, but this is less a rallying call than a plea to be nice to Hillary.

It’s hard to believe that Moore, despite his research and friendly approach, thinks that this will have any impact on the hearts and minds of American voters in a few weeks’ time. Liberals and democrats will vote for Hillary, right-wingers and Republicans (mostly) will vote for Trump. And there’ll be a sizeable portion of the electorate that won’t decide until the day itself. All this is normal, and all this is entirely predictable. It’s easy to see why Moore has released this movie, but as an intelligent, well-reasoned, though one-sided “debate” there are too many longeuers and references to issues away from the Presidential race to make Moore’s latest documentary as effective as he may have hoped. It’s good that he’s tried to “clear the air”, but in taking a less aggressive tone than usual, Moore has let both candidates off the hook for their past misdeeds, and in doing so, has made his show too much about him, and not enough about them.

Rating: 7/10 – with Moore displaying less outrage than on previous outings – only his disgust at the lack of healthcare reforms leading to 50,000 deaths a year really gets him angry – Michael Moore in TrumpLand ends up looking and sounding more tepid than vital; as a vehicle for raising political awareness it also falls short, and as an examination of the candidates’ campaigns it doesn’t even get started, but this is very much a love letter to Hillary above all else, a decision that both overwhelms and undermines the movie at the very same time.

NOTE: There’s no trailer available for Michael Moore in TrumpLand.