Fahrenheit 11/9

If you look back on Michael Moore's career, starting with Roger & Me, you see several well-crafted documentaries working within the most civilly disobedient of traditions, each of them championing social justice and attempting to inspire political change, as American as Pepsi apple pie, overflowing with effervescent goodwill.

He clearly abhors corporate greed and would like wealth to be distributed more fairly within the U.S, and has gone to great lengths to pursue his altruistic goals even as the situation has become remarkably worse since he began filming in 1989.

It's difficult to get an accurate picture of what's happening in the U.S, apart from the fact that Trump is likely crazy, because so many different journalists are writing about so many different aspects of a labyrinthine abstract construction, physically existing within specific boundaries no doubt, yet truly so vast, so incredibly complex, that I doubt anyone has ever understood the big picture.

Although the ending to Sean Baker's The Florida Project makes a lasting impression.

Just because something is incredible, seems beyond comprehension, even if you read all the latest books about it, doesn't mean you don't try to comprehend it, I only mention the abstract colossus because so many people are currently working in the United States and that is indeed a good thing.

I don't like Trump, he's turned a relatively stable world into a contentious polemic, and I don't know if his policies are directly responsible for the thousands of jobs that have been created down South, and I don't know how many of those jobs are steady 9-5 positions complete with decent wages, breaks, and benefits, but I do consistently read that thousands of people are back to work, and I can't dismiss that categorically even if I support different approaches to politics.

I love that people are working again even if I rather strongly dislike Mr. Trump.

Fahrenheit 11/9 breaks contemporary American politics down with unabashed Moorian vigour, uplifting progressive statistics tragically juxtaposed with downtrodden initiatives, myriad stunning examples as breathtaking as they are horrifying.

The picture painted is bleak to say the least, and I'm not here to contradict his assessment.

His examples aren't numerous enough to definitively frame the Democratic Party within the portrait he depicts, but they are revealing enough to start making reasonable accusations about the ways in which it goes about choosing its candidates.

If you can't allow your members to freely choose who represents you, even if a candidate doesn't fit a specific mold, it's distressing, and prone to manifest disillusion.

Trump rode unpredictability straight to the White House, and hasn't let up since for an instant.

Moore castigates the Democratic Party, Barack Obama, The New York Times, Union Leadership in West Virginia, and his rational enough presentation, which should be accompanied by a recommended reading list (it may have been in the end credits), seems generally hopeless, apart from its praise for Bernie Sanders and rising young Democratic candidates.

I started following Sanders on Instagram and he is incredible, the real deal, the genuine article, Jack Laytonesque.

He's as active as Trump but I rarely read about him in The New York Times.

It's like The New York Times is suicidally linked with Trump, like they're so dependent upon the revenue his antics generate, antics which constantly deride and attempt to ruin them, that they're afraid to take a financial hit and start backing a politician whom they would theoretically adore.

The people clearly love him.

His actions should be making headlines every day.

Scripted, Moore makes everything seem scripted, like people who don't subscribe to The New York Times don't matter, like they've stopped trying to find alternative means to generate revenue, and the Democratic Party is sticking too closely to a worn out formula.

But Sanders, the young alternative Democratic politicians, the teachers, and the workers Moore interviews are first rate, and I admire the ways in which they boldly stand up for hardworking Americans.

At the same time, should the situation become even more bleak, people can always look beyond politics.

You can form community groups which take communal action, work with each other to exemplify dreams elites have cynically classified unattainable, focus on taking non-violent actions that can lead to progressive change, the key perhaps being to simply listen to each other without sarcastically dismissing points of view or making others look ridiculous, and recognizing that within a democracy everyone's voice matters, regardless of income, education, race, gender, or sexual orientation.

If people create what they're hoping the government will create themselves, when a government finally comes along which supports their objectives there could be an extended period of widespread bliss casually sashaying through Congress for an extended period.

It's happened before, even if when people say the system's broken they're technically right.

Always.

To paraphrase Plato, and, I, Claudius, the system has always been broken, there never was a golden age where harmony prospered everywhere and everyone got along harmoniously.

Political systems aren't trucks.

You can take a truck in to be fixed.

One, two, maybe three mechanics work on it, not thousands of people from different regions with different backgrounds.

It's much less complicated to fix a truck.

A truck is real.

It exists physically.

That doesn't mean you don't stop trying to fix political systems.

If you stop trying to fix them, true darkness descends, and, to quote Pink Floyd, [you have to] get out of the road if you want to grow old (Sheep, Animals).

I believe in governments who want to help their citizens prosper and are committed to creating societies where it is possible for everyone to have the opportunity to do so.

But with a situation as grim as that presented in Fahrenheit 11/9, it looks like a lot of American people need to start creating paradise on Earth themselves, one self-sacrificing step soberly taken at a time.

*Idea for grassroots politicians hoping to make a difference: stop campaigning traditionally. Stop going door to door. Find a super rough demanding job and start working hard labour. Not for an afternoon, not for a coffee break in the morning, but for months at a time, tweeting and posting videos all the way. Then you'll really learn what it's like to live that kind of life and be so much more ready to defend those who do in Congress. Plus, you'll get to know so many wonderful people whom you may have never met otherwise. And learn what they really want and why they really want it. Remember. You're not the boss. You need the job. Your family's struggling. And you can't quit. That's my suggestion for new campaigning methods. According to Michael Moore's oeuvre, nothing else is working.

Where to Invade Next

Not as hard-hitting as some of Michael Moore's other documentaries, Where to Invade Next still reverberates with conscientious humble social democratic charm, as he invades Europe and Tunisia in search of reforms to bring back home.

He makes it clear early on that he's looking for flowers, not weeds, so the film generally overlooks postmodern day European civil unrest, to its advantage, its progressive assemblage of socioeconomic, sociopolitical, and sociocultural innovations blossoming within the cheeky comedic collage, modest comparisons with corresponding realities in the U.S understated in their unsettling disparities.

Some of the bewildering institutional civilities he shares include the lunch breaks and vacation times enjoyed by many Italian workers, the healthy options available daily at an average school cafeteria in France, conversations with the thrivingly productive German middle-class, interviews with facilitators of learning in Finland who have managed to create the world's no.1 educational system by eliminating homework, the accessibility of Slovenian higher education, differing attitudes regarding the treatment of convicts in Norway, the decriminalization of marijuana in Portugal, and the ways in which women are making significant and progressive impacts in Iceland and Tunisia.

He points out how Iceland prosecuted members of its financial sector after the 2008 crisis.

How the elimination of private schools brings people together throughout life by encouraging the growth of friendships between persons from different economic backgrounds by having them attend school with one another where they playfully learn that they're really not that different from an early age.

How the only financial institution in Iceland to survive the economic crisis was run by women.

How Italian managers and owners don't mind paying their workers more because they care about the health and quality of their lives.

How German workers often make up significant portions of German boards of directors because their culture recognizes the impacts workers make and genuinely respects them as a humanistic economic competence.

How Norway took the punishment out of its rehabilitation centres (prisons) to teach its inmates how to live a respectable life rather than resolutely humiliating them for living a problematic one.

After viewing a film about rehabilitative techniques years ago, and trying to understand why a culture wouldn't punish violent criminals severely, it occurred to me that if you live a desperate life, surrounded by desperate people who can't find good jobs and have been scraping by living meagre paycheque to paycheque for years, pissed-off because they never get anywhere, filled with anger, while watching images of how wonderful it is to be wealthy on television and in films regularly, that violence becomes normal, that if you've never known calm or respect of friendship and you have to push back all the time to avoid being abused, then a criminal justice system that serves to punish you severely if your actions become criminal only serves to replicate the miserable situation you were pushing back against to begin with, replaying the role of the oppressor, and one which suddenly treats you with respect, teaches you to be calm, respectful, and to make friends, does a better job at preparing you to be civil, a break from the ubiquitous bedlam, especially if society doesn't dismissively exclude you after your release.

And takes steps to reduce the poverty that creates such desperation by sincerely caring for its fellow citizens as part of its civil responsibilities.

One of my favourite features from Where to Invade Next is Moore's interview style, his questions, where he warmly asks various people from different countries where their cultures came up with the ideas for their reforms and they continuously answer, the United States of America.

The United States is therefore making Europe and Tunisia much nicer places to live, where people aren't excluded for having a conscience and can enjoy a productive work/life balance.

Perhaps it's time, as Moore consistently suggests, to bring some of these ideas back home?

Donald Trump will not bring these ideas home; it's superhighly doubtful anyways.

His public persona has been crafted by firing people, he's openly racist, has no political experience, and reacts abrasively to criticism.

Is this the person you want controlling the world's largest military?

No, no it is not.

Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders will also fight ISIL and make terrorists pay.

They'll also likely take steps to truly make the United States the greatest country in the world again, the country Michael Moore hopes it can be, a great country for someone from any cultural background, a great country, for everyone.

You shouldn't have to be excessively wealthy to have a voice, to take a vacation, to speak freely, if you live in a democratic country that values human rights.

Thinking as in individual is important. It's important to develop your own specific way of living to gain inner-strength and learn to confidently express yourself.

But thinking as a member of a group is important as well. If you truly want reform, if you want to bring the things Michael Moore presents in Where to Invade Next back home to the United States, you need to think collectively and take collective action.

A collective composed of strong individuals can achieve great things with someone like Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders at the helm.

High-paying jobs and 40 hour work weeks are not bad things. Having more time to spend with your family is not a bad thing. Vacation time to relax during the Summer is wonderful. Atmospheres of mutual respect promote well-being.

In the greatest country in the world, these things should be omnipresent, these things, should be everywhere, not simply reserved for an exclusive elite, some of whom oddly don't care about the plight of their fellow citizens, but readily available for each and every American.

Why not seek to enjoy your life outside of work, even at work, when a working day isn't that serious?

Why be at each other's throats constantly?

That's no way to individually live.

That's no way to collectively progress.

You do have to work hard at work, your company has to turn a profit.

But when 95% of that profit is shared with 4% of the workforce, that's odd.

Especially as the cost of living increases.

Love Michael Moore's films; hope we don't have to wait 6 years for the next one.

He really does care you know.

As do Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders.

Capitalism: A Love Story

Michael Moore, filmmaker, social activist, practical idealist, prominent voice. For twenty years he's been crafting socially conscious films which subvert the wealthy American elite in a playful, satirical fashion, and Capitalism: A Love Story once again displays his characteristic dynamic wit. Within, he uses conservative tropes to convey his liberal message to a wider audience. He interviews progressive Catholic thinkers to reestablish the left wing religious dimension (not to say that said dimension is exclusively Catholic, Moore just happens to have been raised Catholic so he interviews Catholic priests primarily). He focuses on his home town of Flint Michigan and includes a scene shot with his dad. He seeks unionized social justice with the degree of confident bravado you'd expect from a small town Western sheriff (masked by a subdued delivery). And he clearly indicates who the American villains are, to the best of his abilities, thereby utilizing the Republican political form and revitalizing it with ethical Democratic content (while simultaneously highlighting Democratic disappointments). He uncovers Citigroup documents which indicate that 1% of the population has more wealth than 95% of the American people combined; he points out that the majority of Americans have no hope of becoming one of the lucky few and could benefit from forming labour unions; he presents codetermination worker cooperatives (California's Alvarado Street Bakery and Wisconsin's Isthmus Engineering) which actually use democratic ideals to structure their business "hierarchies" as well as Vermont's socially democratic Senator Bernie Sanders; he includes footage of how Franklin D. Roosevelt supported the Flint Sit-Down Strike (1936) by sending in the military to protect striking workers; and he suggests that some German businesses have adopted social democratic practices which allow workers to elect members of their company's board of directors. He points out a lot of things and it's a film so the level of analysis is often terse and sentimental, quickly jumping from one scene to the next, presenting a wide variety of possibilities without offering a sincere degree of reflection. And it's also a film inasmuch as it's symphonically built with crescendoes and diminuendos, good guys and bad guys, ambiguity, and a compelling climax. Moore mentions that the one thing which frightens the plutocrats the most is that every American citizen has a vote and can theoretically elect individuals who threaten their capitalistic monopoly with progressive universal legislation. In presenting Barak Obama, Moore cleverly suggests that perhaps he is the person America's been waiting for while carefully enumerating his corporate sponsors.

Sicko

Michael Moore's new film Sicko presents a critical examination of American Health Care. The style Moore employs is similar to that found in his other films, simultaneously tragic and comedic. If you haven't seen the film the following contains spoilers regarding its ending.

I for one am in complete agreement with Moore's message. While I haven't researched the subject vigorously, and know that universal health care systems are expensive, these expenses maximize a population’s health without supplying it with any significantly increased financial burdens. The picture Moore paints of the state of the American Health Care system is grim to say the least; grim isn't really the right word to be using here, but it seems as if American HMO's are much more concerned with maximizing profits than taking care of the sick. Since I've grown up with universal health care, trying to imagine what it’s like living in a country where access to medical care is a burden upon those responsible for its delivery is difficult, and witnessing the stories Moore showcases within is frankly revolting, especially since America is such a diverse, wealthy country.

But points regarding health care aside, the rest of this piece is about Michael Moore the filmmaker. In the end of Sicko, Moore makes a monumental move that instantly reminded me of Werner Herzog's commitment within Fitzcarraldo, Moore's move resonating with inspired political audacity, Herzog's with ideal artistic integrity. We don't know how they arrive there, but during his research Moore discovers that the prisoners at Guantanamo Bay are receiving first rate health care free of charge, and decides to travel there with several sick Americans, some of them rescue workers from ground zero, 9/11, who have no health insurance. After they are denied access to Guantanamo, Moore decides to seek assistance within Cuba where he is greeted warmly (apparently prescription drugs that cost 120 dollars in the States can be purchased in Cuba for 3.2 pesos). Moore's examination of the Cuban Health Care System and the ways in which he gallantly includes them within his film (at great risk to his own personal freedom back home I'm sure) is an act worthy of sincere applause. What balls!