|
Bowling For Columbine Review by Adrian Hyland Some documentary films have the quality of a sustained revelation, and a cinematic experience such as that offered by Marcel Ophul's "The Sorrow and the Pity" or Steve James' "Hoop Dreams" can leave you feeling enlightened, as though the observation of the details of others' lives has uncovered small truths about human potential. Michael Moore's new film "Bowling for Columbine" doesn't have this revelatory quality, and it feels more like a filmed essay than a documentary. In its dogmatism and the brazenly commercial filmmaking instincts of its creator it reminded me most of Oliver Stone's 1987 film "Salvador", in which James Woods was the mouthpiece for Stone's exposition of US foreign policy. Like Stone, Moore paints in broad, broad strokes, eschewing subtlety and detail in favour of black and white advocacy, and there's really no room for a response to what he shows us; he provides that himself. During the course of this film you may, like me, find yourself admiring the affrontery with which Moore approaches filmmaking, and applauding what he has accomplished in bringing his story of America's seemingly uncontrollable gun culture to the big screen. The film has moments of illumination and power, notably in Marilyn Manson's analysis of the 'fear and consumption' aesthetic that dominates the American media, and in Matt 'South Park' Stone's portrayal of the high-stakes arena that is high-school life in the US. However there are also moments so transparently manipulative that they made me squirm internally, and if there is an intelligent argument in support of the free availability of firearms then Moore certainly failed in his search to find its proponent. (Perhaps Moore is not wholly to blame for this; one would expect NRA big cheese Charlton Heston to provide some kind of rationale, but he merely gives the impression of a man whose brain stopped working a long time ago.) The component that sets "Bowling for Columbine" apart from other similar films, both aesthetically and in terms of box office, is its humour. There's no question that Moore has his own comic style. It typically sees him in the role of the straight man, feeding lines to some unsuspecting okie (or alternatively Republican), up until the point at which the interviewee delivers some comment remarkable for its stupidity and Moore cuts away with comic timing Woody Allen would be proud of. The cumulative effect is that we are left wondering 'is this really all there is to these people?'. It feels as though during the editing process Moore has selected his material based on the potential for cheap laughs, and this means we are denied any real insight into the people who make up the firearm sub-culture. We see only what Moore wants us to see: a succession of gun-toting hicks united in their stupidity. The film's final half an hour is dedicated to the story of two Columbine victims and their trip to the headquarters of K-Mart, the supermarket that sold the bullets used that day. During this sequence Moore deviates from his comic formula, and the film sags under the weight of reality. The previous hour or so of low comedy hasn't prepared us for it, and Moore isn't much of a filmmaker when he attempts to 'tell it like it is'; he has the rhetorical instincts of a politician, and he needs something he can manipulate. (The Charlton Heston sequence provides him with it: as the camera follows Heston leaving there suddenly appears a shot of Moore's doleful reaction, clearly filmed after the fact.) You would think that watching a film like "Bowling for Columbine", with its cast of idiots and ultimately pessimistic outlook on gun control, would send a viewer into mild depression about the state of humanity. (Moore conspicuously fails to find answers to the questions he poses.) But the film is so stylised that it lacks impact. Why does Moore use melancholy mood music as accompaniment to the real-life tapes of the Columbine massacre? In case some of us in the audience hadn't noticed that this is pretty sombre stuff? Does he think we're all as stupid as the people in his film? It's no coincidence that "Bowling for Columbine" and Moore's previous film "Roger & Me" are two of the most successful 'documentaries' of all time; like Oliver Stone, Moore favours the 'lowest common denominator' approach that is box office gold. There are none of the spine-tinglingly personal moments that great documentaries provide, and while the subject matter may be dark, artistically the film is lightweight. It jangles along at a good pace and is certainly entertaining for the most part, but the most compelling thought to enter my mind afterwards wasn't about guns but about Moore himself. (This is hardly surprising since there is so much of Moore in the film.) It occurred to me that while his political beliefs are solidly left-wing, there is more than a whiff of fascism about his filmmaking technique (ie, it allows no opposition). Michael Moore's passion is admirable, and his humanitarian ideals may be unreproachably high, but as an artist he aims low. — Adrian Hyland studied post-production at South Seas Film & Television School. He now works as a news editor at TV3. |