Moore's critics take aim

The authors shed light on the controversial writer-director's shortcomings, but commit similar offences themselves

 

Adam Daifallah

Montreal Gazette

 

Saturday, July 31, 2004

 

Michael Moore Is a Big Fat Stupid White Man
By David T. Hardy and Jason Clarke
ReganBooks, 256 pages, $32.50

Michael Moore is in the news a lot these days. The radical filmmaker has made a remarkable metamorphosis from oddball leftist rabble-rouser to pop-culture icon. His political films - documentaries is too charitable a term - make more money than most star-studded
Hollywood releases. His books sit high atop the New York Times best-seller lists. And he has replaced Bill Clinton as the American Right's Enemy No. 1.

Moore's influence has never been stronger: his latest film, the blockbuster Fahrenheit 9/11, recently eclipsed the $100-million-U.S. mark at the box office. Like his past writings and productions, Fahrenheit 9/11 is loaded with shock-inducing, powerful polemics. Its tone is harsh and its message unambiguous: President George W. Bush is evil, and the war in Iraq was a sham.

It should come as no surprise, then, that a book has been written dedicated solely to the purpose of discrediting the left-wing firebrand. In Michael Moore Is a Big Fat Stupid White Man, David T. Hardy and Jason Clarke attempt to paint Moore as, well, a big fat stupid white man. The authors, who run separate anti-Moore Web sites, fall far short. (Indeed, considering the amount of money Moore is making, he is anything but stupid.)

Moore's work has been scrutinized before and many critics have exposed his excess. Moore twists facts to suit his predetermined thesis, and this book casts light on a significant number of them. He cuts and pastes from interviews to alter or misrepresent his subjects' intent. He demonizes his opponents and looks only at one side of the story.

Problem is, this book falls into the same trap as Moore. It is not elegant or well-reasoned. It is not high-quality prose. Rather, it is page after page of shrillness, histrionics and over-the-top invective.

This book's extreme and polarized rhetoric is emblematic of the current tenor of U.S. politics. The level of public discourse is in decline because of pundits like Moore on the left and Ann Coulter on the right. Debates now come down to who can launch the wittiest salvo, not who can put forward the best ideas. This book, like so many other new releases on current affairs, reads more like talking points for a high school debate than serious journalism.

This type of writing doesn't win converts. A colleague of mine recently remarked that Fahrenheit 9/11 won't change the pre-existing inclinations of anyone who watches it.

If you hate Bush and oppose the war in Iraq, you'll come out feeling the same way, perhaps even more passionately. If you support Bush and agree with the war, you'll find every single factual inaccuracy and gross exaggeration and finish feeling better than ever about the liberation of Baghdad.

As pioneer of the new politics and punditry of insults, Moore is one of the worst offenders. His films (of which I have seen two, Fahrenheit 9/11 and Bowling for Columbine, his anti-gun jeremiad) are intellectually dishonest and, in some cases, unethical.

The authors do a decent job shedding light on some of Moore's worst offences. They present evidence to refute some of Bowling for Columbine's fallacious claims. The authors call the film "as manipulative as totalitarian propaganda." They rebut Moore's written works, particularly the recent Dude, Where's My Country? And they poke holes in Moore's phoney everyman image, painting him instead as a narcissistic scapegrace. (For example, despite Moore's attempts to sympathize with the plight of the Average Joe, he actually owns a $1.9-million condo in New York City and a $1.2-million summer home in Michigan.)

Michael Moore Is a Big Fat Stupid White Man is amateurish. It appears to be a slapdash congeries of mini-essays pasted together with little attention paid to flow or sequence. Chapters move back and forth from first to third person and it is riddled with repetition and cliches.

Given Moore's now significant influence in the political debate, a serious and thoughtful criticism of his shoddy work would be valuable. Unfortunately, Hardy and Clarke miss the mark.

Adam Daifallah is a member of the National Post editorial board.