Attack of the 50-Foot Idea!
Where to Invade Next / directed by Michael Moore
It’s awfully amusing that the right in this country views Michael Moore as some sort of bomb-throwing radical. I think this comes from a combination of his avowedly liberal politics and the fact that he’s figured out an arguably effective way to get his views into the public sphere, whatever the flaws of his films might be; he is made out to be a buffoon because in actuality he’s a real threat. I’m not saying Michael Moore is the future of left politics, but you can’t deny he’s on to something, especially after watching his latest.
Where to Invade Next in fact feels like the ne plus ultra of Michael Moore movies: superficially, its premise seems designed to enrage conservatives, and Moore’s own mock jingoism throughout means he’s basically playing a conservative buffoon to make his points. The film’s premise is straightforward: claiming a (possibly fictional) mandate from the Pentagon to spend our tax dollars more wisely, Michael Moore sets out to “invade” various European and one African country in order to seize the best ideas about the public good that each has to offer. What follows is a tour de force of consciously cherry-picking ideas that impress on various levels: for their simplicity, for their practicality, but above all else, for their basic humanity. Imagine if you will these wonders: nutritional, delicious school lunches enjoyed by all social classes of French students. Six weeks of paid vacation enjoyed by Italian workers, plus loads of time off for new mothers; a nation educating its young about the darkest elements of its past in Germany; students with 10 minutes of homework a day in Finland, yet who still greatly outperform their U.S. counterparts; Tunisian women taking to the streets to ensure that female equality is written into their new constitution, and who force an Islamic government to resign in the process; prisoners treated with dignity in Norway, their approach putting the American recidivism rate to deep, tragic shame.
What makes these ideas feel so powerful and their presentation so effective is Moore’s interviews with the people who implement and benefit from them. From the little French kids who politely decline his offers to jazz up their gourmet lunch with the je ne sais quois of Coca Cola, to the convicted Norwegian murderer assuring Moore he has nothing to fear from the fact that there are kitchen knives at hand, to Italian and German factory managers laughing about how workers are more productive when they have more vacation time as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, this cast of real-life characters ground everything we learn. Moore performs an effective rhetorical trick here; he dresses up his crusade in the film as the sheerest, most self-evident propaganda, then lets the reality sink in that we’re just talking common sense here. This is a film chock-full of basic human decency, in such doses that you may be moved to tears at times. For me, the most touching were his conversations with Finnish teachers, who explained the less-is-more benefits of their near-zero homework policy; in the same [self-evident, common sense basic human decency] found throughout the film, they explain how kids need time to be kids, to cultivate friendships and non-academic interests, and avow their faith in how children allowed to explore the world will also cultivate their own curiosity about it; their universal condemnation of standardized testing, American schooling’s great, undead horror is a chilling yet cheering sight to behold.
Moore makes it clear that he’s taking the best of what he can find, and acknowledges that all these countries have their share of problems (though without his delving into what those are). He’s also clear about the fact that nothing that we see is some sort of random goodness that has befallen these countries. These are conscious choices reflecting philosophical and practical notions of the public good, and none of them came about without a fight. His humor and theatrics entertain, but also serve as a metaphor for U.S. bumbling abroad; the sight of Moore carrying an American flag around with him, and planting it in the various locales where he wishes to appropriate an idea, seems cloying and over the top at first, but ends up feeling endearing - militaristic nationalism transmogrified into national humility.
As much as it’s a critique of American failure in so many areas, Where to Invade Next also points out that many of the ideas it explores actually originated in the U.S. But I think the film’s power comes from its main thrust - going beyond this country, and showing us how other people are living their lives. Maybe I’m going soft, but I loved this movie; not something I say often, and in full awareness that fact-checking may find some holes in the examples of better governance that Moore lays out before us like a four-course meal at one of those French public schools. I have to admit to spending an inordinate amount of time reading about politics and economics, and a lot of these ideas weren’t new to me. But the combination of high-falutin’ concepts and down-to-earth examples from other nations feels like a metaphorical window being opened to let in a rush of fresh air. Again, the basic decency on display here is eye-opening; the common refrain that human dignity is paramount is a deeply refreshing reminder that while the U.S. may feel stuck in neutral, other countries have forged ahead to advance values of life, liberty, and happiness. Perhaps it’s this election season, with Trump moving the right-wing goalposts even further right, and the Clinton camp trying to convince everyone that Sanders’ European-lite social policies are too pie in the sky, but I know I’ve felt a sort of grimness at our prospects despite many hopeful signs of change. It’s no surprise that I also loved Moore’s valedictory reminder of the fall of the Berlin wall - a barrier to human freedom and dignity that was torn down by people who began by literally chiseling away at it, one hammer blow at a time. Things seem permanent until enough people decide they aren’t.