finnegan’s film blog

The title is inflammatory, the editing and cinematography are amateurish, and the star of the show is as much of a subjective commentator as the figurehead he’s targeting. In spite of all this, filmmaker Michael Wilson has created a critique of Michael Moore’s documentary films that is well worth watching. Michael Moore Hates America attempts to confront the king of contemporary left wing propaganda with a few of his questionable filmmaking practices. Wilson wants to debunk (his perception of) Moore’s notion that the United States is an irredeemable wasteland of dreams destroyed by greedy corporate fat cats.

There is a certain air of honesty throughout the film–even at the risk of looking powerfully uncool–that distinguishes Wilson from Moore. If you disagree with everything Wilson says, you should at least be able to appreciate the honesty and vulnerability with which he approaches the subject. He’s not above misleading interviewees, but he is big enough to apologize afterward and admit where he went wrong. Perhaps the most cogent point in the movie is Wilson’s discovery that the temptation to mislead and misrepresent is enormous, and the line between objectivity and spin is very thin indeed.

By including icons like documentary pioneer Albert Maysles in the movie, the film gives the impression that Moore isn’t necessarily “in solidarity” with his fellow documentary filmmakers (as a comment he made during his acceptance speech at the Oscars in 2003 might lead one to believe). If Wilson is a right-wing wacko, he hides it quite well. At one point, he even distances himself from the acerbic statements of conservative interviewee David Horowitz.

Unlike FahrenHYPE 9/11 or Celsius 41.11, Michael Moore Hates America is not a right-wing counterpoint to Moore’s films. Rather, it is a critique of the methods used by documentary filmmakers. If you’re among those “left of the American mainstream,” but are increasingly uncomfortable with Michael Moore as your spokesperson, this is the film you’ve been wanting to see ever since Moore laid that picture on Charlton Heston’s driveway in Bowling for Columbine.

I saw this documentary at Cornerstone Festival ’05 and I must say I was impressed. After meeting the filmmakers before the screening and finding out that they had no idea what they were doing when they made this movie—neither of them had ever used a camera or run audio before, nor had the editor edited video in his life—I was pleasantly surprised to find myself interested 60 minutes into the film.

Anyone who has ever been to a concert with their youth group, or questioned the line between “Christian rock” and “secular music” will appreciate the subject of this documentary. From emotional God-worshiping frontmen to the most jaded and cynical critics of the scene, the subjects of this film run the gamut. The filmmakers did a fairly good job of keeping even-sided arguments: I could never quite pin down whether they were for or against the Christian rock movement.

Much of the film was shot on location at Cornerstone Music Festival and many of the interviews are scattered between bands in their trailers and fans in the crowd. As the camera lens wanders throughout the festival like a mosquito, each person it lands on pitches in their two cents on topics such as burning your secular music collection, egotistical Christian rockers, and the decades-old “Christian band versus Christians in a band” debate. Between Steve Taylor, MXPX, Pedro the Lion, and Pansy Division, you’re practically guaranteed to see a familiar face at some point, even if you were fortunate enough never to have been to a youth group concert.

The critic in me wants to scowl at the poor lighting and frame compositions, or to roll my eyes at the muddled audio, but in the end, none of those foibles hurt the film. The only actual flaw I see is a structural one. Due to the long-standing nature of the arguments and the sheer number of opinions represented on screen, the talking points become repetitive toward the end of the movie. The last 10 – 15 minutes of the film feel like a stretch to reach feature length qualification… But for these three first-time filmmakers with no background in film, this is an astonishing accomplishment. One can only hope we will see more from them in the future.

Since this is an indie doc, it might be hard to find (it’s not listed at Rotten Tomatoes). It’s currently screening at small film festivals around the country and recently became available on DVD—though you may have to email the filmmakers to get a copy at this point. You can check out the website at rightrightrightfilms.com

It’s 4:30 in the morning. I just got home from seeing Star Wars Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith.

I met up with my brothers, Nicole, Dan, and some other friends at the Regal 14 in Harrisonburg tonight around 10:00 and stood in line for two hours for the midnight premiere. The atmosphere in the parking lot was not unlike the revelry before a rock concert. When the opening crawl burst onto the screen–accompanied by John Williams familiar first movement–everyone in the audience cheered.

The film opens with a fireworks show of a space dogfight–a scene that could fit easily into episodes I or II. In many respects, the first part of the film is similar to the first two prequels: several stiff beats and plenty of comic relief. But much to my amazement, the story actually picks up and pulls you along at a much more natural pace than Star Wars fans have come to expect over the past several years.

One of the most surprising aspects of the film to me was the acting. Hayden Christiansen (as Anakin Skywalker) actually outshines Ewan MacGregor’s Obi-Wan Kenobi! No doubt Ian McDiarmid (Palpatine) deserves a portion of the credit for that reversal from episode II. The scenes between Anakin and Palpatine are so enthralling, you might forget for a moment that you are watching a Star Wars prequel.

One would think that a prequel doesn’t have much to offer in terms of information–we all know exactly how it ends. But Lucas and his creative team do an excellent job of putting poetic twists on the story in such a way that you will never look at the original trilogy the same way again. But more importantly, this film achieves the goal of all great dramas–the audience actually feels the emotions that the actors are portraying–something the other prequels failed to do. We both hate and empathize with Anakin.

Another aspect worth noting is the political innuendos vaguely linking the neo-conservative movement to Emporer Palpatine. No doubt many Rebublican fans will deny any such an implication is even suggested in the film, but it’s as plain as day to the blue state rebels. Anyone who is familiar with George Lucas’ political leanings will know that this is at least within the realm of possibility. True, there is a large difference between the Patriot Act or a filibuster ban and Palpatine’s exponential usurpation of democratic power, but the moral of the story is still there. Throughout history, the works of art that are remembered are generally going to be the ones that have something to say about the culture in which we currently live. MASH wasn’t really about the Korean War any more than Citizen Kane was about Charles Kane. And who really believes all those sci-fi alien invasion B-flicks of the 1950s were actually about extra-terrestrials? I seriously doubt that A New Hope would have been nearly as popular as it was if it had premiered in the sedated social/political climate of America in 1989.

In the interest of full disclosure, non-fans should know that I’m writing this review as a a Star Wars fan, not under the pretense of “objective criticism” (as if there really is such a thing). The original trilogy was a big part of my childhood. Trying to imagine pop culture in early 80s without Star Wars brings to my mind Bedford Falls without George Bailey. I might not even have gone to film school if I hadn’t seen that behind-the-scenes-special on TV about the making of Return of the Jedi.

What it boils down to is this: if you didn’t like any of the other five movies, you would be foolish to waste your time or money on this one. However, if you’re a faithful fan of the Star Wars universe, if you grew up with it and couldn’t wait to see episode I back in ‘99 like I did, the chances are pretty good that you’re going to like (or possibly even love) this film. It’s a space opera, a political fable and a Shakespearian tragedy all rolled up into a satisfying grand finale worthy of the name Star Wars.

As with Devil’s Playground, Hell House is a fly-on-the-wall documentary look at a fringe group of Christians in America. This time, it’s an Assemblies of God church in east Texas that puts on a haunted house every Halloween depicting the sins that lead to Hell.

Using amateur actors (primarilly Christian high school students) the organizers of Hell House orchestrate a series of despicable, highly emotional scenes that tour groups stop to watch. A girl takes drugs at a rave and is raped. Later she decides to commit suicide. A gay man curses God as he dies of AIDS on a hospital bed while the girl in the bed next to him (bleeding profusely from her uterus due to a botched abortion) asks God for forgiveness. An angel protects the girl as a demon drags the gay man to Hell. At the end of each tour, the sometimes traumatized tour group is given an choice: either walk through door #1 and pray with a prayer councilor who will help you dedicate your life to Christ, or walk out door #2 and hope that your relationship with God is good enough to save you from the horrors of eternal damnation.

The film briefly focuses on several members of Trinity Church involved in the Hell House–some of whom have personal histories similar to the characters they are portraying. Although the filmmakers do show angry teens who strongly object to the message of the production, director George Ratliff doesn’t attempt to show any real concise counter-opinion to that of the church organizers. One question left unanswered is: where does the money go? Hundreds of people line up and pay $7 to view these nightmarish scenes. If many of those people are already Christians, how is this not “Christsploitation” in the vein of The Omega Code?

Whether you agree or disagree with the tactics used by church organizers (and I’m betting that most of you will disagree) Hell House is one of those films that will undoubtedly spark opinionated conversation afterward.

Like Traffic or Magnolia, Crash is not a straight story. It’s a dozen or so characters’ lives woven together to create the bigger picture–a picture that most Americans from multi-ethnic towns are familiar with. Using a grab-bag variety cast (everyone from Brendan Frazier and Sandra Bullock to a handful of unknowns show up in this film), writer/director Paul Haggis shows us that American racism is alive and well in the city of angels.

The official synopsis says “funny, powerful and always unpredictable.” While the film is definitely powerful, to call this film funny is a bit misleading. When you look at the way Haggis captures human frustration and misery on celluloid, you realize why his script for Million Dollar Baby helped Clint Eastwood secure his third best picture trophy. Haggis knows how to put you on the edge of your seat and break your heart.

There’s nothing particularly astonishing about Crash–the actors’ great emotional performances tend to get lost in the sheer number of scenes and characters–but the film as a whole serves as a strong reminder to all of us to live by the golden rule. Just as every action has an equal and opposite reaction, racism begets racism.

Outfoxed is an attempt to expose the Fox News Network’s right-wing, pro-administration agenda. It explains what some Americans already know: that FN has very little journalistic integrity. It was designed to be (and has become) the mouthpiece of conservative politicians and those who wish to maintain the status quo.

Although this film is full of interesting information, I’m not a fan of director Robert Greenwald’s cheezy clip art graphics and sloppy editing. Compared to Super Size Me or The Corportation (both political documentaries with prominent CG interludes), the cartoon graphics in Outfoxed detract from the impact of the story and make it look well, dumb. For a much more tasteful and well-written story on the same topic, watch Bill Moyer’s final report on “Now with Bill Moyers”.

There is no real counterpoint in this film. It doesn’t appear as though Greenwald was striving for objectivity. This is an exposé in the same sense that Fox News produces exposés. Perhaps the thinking is that all you have to do to find a pro-Fox opinion is to turn the TV on to Fox News, so why bother giving equal time? For better or worse, Outfoxed plays by Fox’s own “unfair and unbalanced” rules, giving us only one side of the story. Despite all this (and in spite of Greenwald’s slapdash style), Outfoxed is still worth a gander. If nothing else, it gives the public a glimpse of the man behind the curtain, and a better understanding of how the news media spins the stories.