Garrison Hilliard
June 27th 04, 02:23 AM
'Moore is shameless in feeding his own ego'
Observer film writer Mark Kermode on the controversial filmmaker behind
Fahrenheit 9/11
Sunday June 27, 2004
The Observer
The most annoying sound at this year's Cannes Film Festival was the
incessant drone of Michael Moore telling everyone in town that he had been
silenced. If only.
For almost two weeks you couldn't turn on a TV without hearing Moore
spouting off about how Disney was censoring him by refusing to distribute
Fahrenheit 9/11. Of course, it was all nonsense. Despite the fact that
Moore had apparently long known about the 'Disney issue', he chose to wait
until the eve of Cannes before screaming to the press, thereby generating
the kind of frenzied festival publicity money can't buy.
Moore played the victim; the world's press acted outraged; and the Cannes
Jury duly handed over the coveted Palme d'Or, insisting its decision had
nothing to do with politics. 'It was the best movie we saw,' jury
president Quentin Tarantino blubbed unconvincingly. Fast forward a month
and, hey presto, Moore's documentary finds itself enjoying the kind of
high-profile US opening usually reserved for star-studded blockbuster
action movies. With censorship like that, who needs publicity?
According to legend, Fahrenheit 9/11 was made to topple George W Bush and
thereby save America from the grip of an evil tyrant. It was also made to
prove that Moore was right for attacking 'Dubya' from the Oscar stage last
year, labelling him a 'fictitious president' who was leading his country
into a 'fictitious war'.
'When I gave that speech,' Moore said later, 'it wasn't embraced by
majority opinion. I needed to clarify myself.' In fact, what Moore needed
to do was to convince everyone that he wasn't a loud-mouthed winner
(anyone clutching an Oscar sounds smug) but the loveable underdog of yore.
It's a role he has played to the hilt, with winning results; the
glittering likes of Leonardo DiCaprio, Demi Moore and Sharon Stone have
recently been snapped at screenings of Fahrenheit 9/11, while Madonna has
urged her fans to see the film, insisting: 'I don't think I ever cried so
hard at a movie in my life!' (Clearly, she never saw her own stinker,
Swept Away.)
Amid this hectic round of celebrity back-slapping and public
congratulation, Moore has still found time to remind us just how silenced
and censored he is, most recently complaining about the 'R' rating awarded
to Fahrenheit 9/11, which he insists will prevent teenagers from hearing
his message - and presumably prevent him from pocketing their lucrative
demographic dollars. 'Come see my movie by any means necessary,' Moore
told young punters, adding, 'If you need me to sneak you in, let me know.'
Gee, thanks Mike.
All of which would be far more amusing if Fahrenheit 9/11 was genuinely
something to get excited about. I'll be reviewing the film in full when it
opens here in a couple of weeks, but suffice to say that it was neither
the sharpest, the funniest nor the most politically potent documentary
screened at Cannes this year. That award goes to Morgan Spurlock's Super
Size Me, a stomach-churning attack on the fast-food industry which has all
of the bite of Moore's work with none of the self-righteous sanctimony.
Yet in the area of shameless self-publicity, Moore remains unsurpassed,
finding a way to turn every situation to his egotistical advantage. If
Bush loses the next election, Moore will doubtless claim credit for his
downfall, thus making him an international superhero. If Bush stays, Moore
can just go on blaming all those people who 'censored' his movie, from
Disney, to the Ratings Board, to the dopes of the 'Move America Forward'
organisation who tried to get theatres to boycott Fahrenheit 9/11. Haven't
they heard that there's no such thing as bad publicity, particularly where
our Mike is concerned?
Whoever wins the election, you can be sure that Michael Moore won't be a
loser. Nice campaign, Mike. Shame about the film.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uselections2004/story/0,13918,1248243,00.html
Observer film writer Mark Kermode on the controversial filmmaker behind
Fahrenheit 9/11
Sunday June 27, 2004
The Observer
The most annoying sound at this year's Cannes Film Festival was the
incessant drone of Michael Moore telling everyone in town that he had been
silenced. If only.
For almost two weeks you couldn't turn on a TV without hearing Moore
spouting off about how Disney was censoring him by refusing to distribute
Fahrenheit 9/11. Of course, it was all nonsense. Despite the fact that
Moore had apparently long known about the 'Disney issue', he chose to wait
until the eve of Cannes before screaming to the press, thereby generating
the kind of frenzied festival publicity money can't buy.
Moore played the victim; the world's press acted outraged; and the Cannes
Jury duly handed over the coveted Palme d'Or, insisting its decision had
nothing to do with politics. 'It was the best movie we saw,' jury
president Quentin Tarantino blubbed unconvincingly. Fast forward a month
and, hey presto, Moore's documentary finds itself enjoying the kind of
high-profile US opening usually reserved for star-studded blockbuster
action movies. With censorship like that, who needs publicity?
According to legend, Fahrenheit 9/11 was made to topple George W Bush and
thereby save America from the grip of an evil tyrant. It was also made to
prove that Moore was right for attacking 'Dubya' from the Oscar stage last
year, labelling him a 'fictitious president' who was leading his country
into a 'fictitious war'.
'When I gave that speech,' Moore said later, 'it wasn't embraced by
majority opinion. I needed to clarify myself.' In fact, what Moore needed
to do was to convince everyone that he wasn't a loud-mouthed winner
(anyone clutching an Oscar sounds smug) but the loveable underdog of yore.
It's a role he has played to the hilt, with winning results; the
glittering likes of Leonardo DiCaprio, Demi Moore and Sharon Stone have
recently been snapped at screenings of Fahrenheit 9/11, while Madonna has
urged her fans to see the film, insisting: 'I don't think I ever cried so
hard at a movie in my life!' (Clearly, she never saw her own stinker,
Swept Away.)
Amid this hectic round of celebrity back-slapping and public
congratulation, Moore has still found time to remind us just how silenced
and censored he is, most recently complaining about the 'R' rating awarded
to Fahrenheit 9/11, which he insists will prevent teenagers from hearing
his message - and presumably prevent him from pocketing their lucrative
demographic dollars. 'Come see my movie by any means necessary,' Moore
told young punters, adding, 'If you need me to sneak you in, let me know.'
Gee, thanks Mike.
All of which would be far more amusing if Fahrenheit 9/11 was genuinely
something to get excited about. I'll be reviewing the film in full when it
opens here in a couple of weeks, but suffice to say that it was neither
the sharpest, the funniest nor the most politically potent documentary
screened at Cannes this year. That award goes to Morgan Spurlock's Super
Size Me, a stomach-churning attack on the fast-food industry which has all
of the bite of Moore's work with none of the self-righteous sanctimony.
Yet in the area of shameless self-publicity, Moore remains unsurpassed,
finding a way to turn every situation to his egotistical advantage. If
Bush loses the next election, Moore will doubtless claim credit for his
downfall, thus making him an international superhero. If Bush stays, Moore
can just go on blaming all those people who 'censored' his movie, from
Disney, to the Ratings Board, to the dopes of the 'Move America Forward'
organisation who tried to get theatres to boycott Fahrenheit 9/11. Haven't
they heard that there's no such thing as bad publicity, particularly where
our Mike is concerned?
Whoever wins the election, you can be sure that Michael Moore won't be a
loser. Nice campaign, Mike. Shame about the film.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uselections2004/story/0,13918,1248243,00.html