|
Moore
& Co.: The most controversial documentaries |
|
|
By STEVEN
SNYDER - TimeOut Film Critic
|
October 9,
2009 |
|
There
are those documentaries that record the commonplace, and then
those docs that rip the lid off life as we know it – that
dare us to look at reality in a whole new way.
Michael Moore has always been a filmmaker geared towards the
latter.
His latest film, "Capitalism: A Love Story," is a
rousing, populist call to arms against a financial industry
that’s been protected by the government even as the average
Joe has suffered.
It’s a controversial expose, released at a most
controversial time; we take a look back at five of the other
most explosive documentaries ever released.
"An Inconvenient Truth"
Not just one of the most controversial documentaries of all
time, but also one of the most influential, "An
Inconvenient Truth" turned the tide of public opinion on
the issue of global warming – and also became an unexpected
box office smash at multiplexes across the country. Jumping
between Al Gore’s science and his personal life, director
Davis Guggenheim gave America a lecturer they could believe, a
man with a heart of gold who could also manage to extrapolate
how a bar graph pointing to rising carbon dioxide in the
atmosphere would affect our weather and water supplies.
"Trouble the Water"
Fury is made palpable in "Trouble the Water," the
Oscar-nominated reconstruction of the terrors that ravaged a
post-Katrina New Orleans, told not through interviews or
archival news clips but from the first-hand footage shot by a
stranded resident who scrambled as the water rose. Offering us
an insider’s view of a submerged Ninth Ward, the film
introduces us to the defiant and inspiring Kimberly Rivers
Roberts, an aspiring rapper who refuses to let the situation
defeat her.
Turning away from the political rhetoric that filled the
airwaves in the weeks and months that followed the storm,
"Trouble the Water" takes us back into the
uncertainty of the moment, as neighbors rallied together to
find a way to safety. The result is an apocalyptic travelogue
focused on resilience and determination, featuring at the
center of it all as irrepressible a personality as we’ve
ever seen on the silver screen.
"Roger & Me"
In the grand scheme of things, "Roger & Me" didn’t
change all that much. It didn’t alter this country’s
sprint into an era of corporate outsourcing; it didn’t
reverse the blight that by then had encased director Michael
Moore’s hometown of Flint, Mich. But this passionate story
of the town that General Motors abandoned when it shut down
the auto factory did alter the audience’s perception of
David and Goliath.
As Moore took his cameras to GM’s headquarters, as he called
out CEO Roger Smith by name for approving the business
decisions that led to the destruction of Flint, the almighty
corporation was held to account and given a discernable
personality. "Roger & Me" altered the way
filmmakers started thinking about tackling such massive issues
as international trade – proving that there were emotional
and provocative ways in which these topics could be discussed,
deconstructed and challenged.
With "Roger & Me," Moore launched not just his
own career as a feature film rabble-rouser but a whole new
subgenre of documentary filmmaking, peeling away the glossy
facades of the Fortune 500 and revealing the humanitarian
hardships being perpetrated under the guise of quarterly
profits.
"Super Size Me"
In the five years since "Super Size Me," the number
of films taking on fast food chains and the commercialized
farming industry has skyrocketed. But when Morgan Spurlock
first made a name for himself with this fast-food-only-diet
documentary, it was a shocking sight, to see a man’s health
fall apart on the big screen.
Claiming that a month’s world of McDonald’s food affected
everything from his energy levels to his sex drive – at one
point, Spurlock even vomits as his body seemingly rejects the
processed grub – there were those who claimed that the
filmmaker was exaggerating the experience for theatrical
effect. Which may well be true. But it nevertheless galvanized
a whole generation to rethink that nightly burger run – and
just about everything else they were putting into their
bodies.
"The Fog of War"
The revelations were stunning, candid and plentiful in Errol
Morris’ Oscar-winning documentary "Fog of War" –
and also completely unexpected. Robert McNamara, the Secretary
of Defense under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson and a prime
architect of the Vietnam War, agreed to talk with Morris for
an hour or so, under the guise of a TV special.
But as he worked with the director, looking into Morris’
"Interrotron," which allowed the two to look each
other in the eye, McNamara continued talking. For 20 hours,
the 85-year-old reflected on both the war he helped to
escalate and his earlier experiences in World War II, serving
as a key aide to the vicious General LeMay – recalling in
one sobering moment how LeMay admitted that if America had
lost the war, surely some of our top strategists would have
been tried as war criminals, called to account for
firebombings and civilian deaths.
Something happened in these interviews that went beyond a
simple reconstruction of history. The elderly McNamara was
candid, comprehensive and, at times, contrite.
The film, as a result, was an unguarded and complex journey
into the mind of a man who presided over some of humanity’s
darkest hours.
|
|
|
|
|
|