Fahrenheit 9/11

Judging Fahrenheit 9/11 fairly is an impossible task. For many people, this film represents the thoughts of a liberal minded hypocrite with too much time on his hands.

A man that, having made his own fortune, shouldn't be questioning the rich people that helped make him a millionaire.

To these people, no matter how good the documentary is in terms of art, Fahrenheit 9/11 should be banned for good.

But that is largely the view of anyone who has come under the scrutiny of Michael Moore's camera. Those are likely to be the views of someone with little or no defence against the charges he brings to the people in his movies.

Buoyed by the success of Bowling For Columbine, Moore's latest is basically an adaptation of his own book, Dude, Where's My Country?

And, as in the book, Moore sets his sights squarely on the US President, George W. Bush.

This time, instead of giving us his theories and asking us to discuss them, Moore's task has been to inform us of information that the media doesn't give us, and then get us to ask the questions he too would like to have answered.

For example, how many times were we shown footage of the presidential limo being bombarded with eggs and rotten fruit on inauguration day by our media?

Or how come Bush welcomed al-Qaeda with open arms into the state of Texas, AFTER the first WTC attack in the early 90s?

And most worringly, why is it that, in the days after 9/11, the only planes allowed to fly were those chartered to transport the Bin Laden family out of the US?

As Moore points out: "It would be like flying the McVeigh family out of the country after the Oklahoma bombing."

Moore doesn't so much expect all of these questions to have scandalous answers, but rightly enquires as to why these questions have never been put to the people in power in the first place.

The film is a combination of laugh out loud hilarity (Bush and his cronies have never looked so stupid) and humbling honesty (the mother of a marine killed in Iraq will have your brow furrowed and your lips trembling).

And Moore expertly flits between the two as he covers the subjects of Bush's controversial election victory, the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the Iraq conflict, keeping us up to speed with the shameful way the US media treats the public.

One could easily be turned off by the political talk, but Moore makes it accessible without being patronising.

And just when you might begin to feel bogged down in political jargon, Moore reins you back in with another cracking joke at some rich guy's expense.

Fahrenheit 9/11 is unashamedly one-sided – and Moore has since made the point that that's the only way to redress the balance.

If you are a fan of Moore's work, or even if you are simply open-minded enough to be interested, this movie has the potential to change your views forever.

But as easy as it is to laugh away at the buffoonery of the US administration, the silence that befalls the cinema when the micky-taking briefly comes round to Tony Blair is deafening.

This is a film that won the Palm d’Or because it is a superior piece of art.

This is a film that may have a major effect, rightly or wrongly, on who rules one of the biggest nations on the planet after the elections. The only question you need to ask yourself is: can you really afford to say you haven't seen it?

Richard Phippen