Where to Invade Next

“You know it's bad when the French feel sorry for you.” Where to Invade Next is basically several episodes of a casual travel show like No Reservations slapped together, except that the (self-)ironic host doesn’t discuss the cuisine or historical sights of the individual countries, but rather examines the benefits of their respective social systems. At the same time, the way he manipulates facts and emotions is much “edgier” (interviewing the father of one of Breivik’s victims, cutting to the beating of black American prisoners). Of course, this is an extremely simplistic view of some constituent benefits, taken out of the larger political-historical-social context, which Moore occasionally realises, though he more frequently gets carried away with what he hears and doesn’t ask (himself) follow-up questions that would undermine his thesis. Furthermore, he does not consistently adhere to his chosen concept, as he also visits Tunisia in addition to the European countries inhabited by white people that he mentions in the introduction and, despite his resolution to pick only “flowers” and not “weeds”, he cannot resist the temptation to bring up Germany’s Nazi past during his visit to that country (if only to support the idea of the necessity of accepting both defeats and victories). In comparison with Moore’s previous films, this one is relatively laid-back, with playfulness outweighing cynicism, and tries (mainly) to encourage Americans to open their eyes, look beyond their borders and admit that the ideals on which the US is based (freedom, equality) have been put into practice much more effectively in other countries. From this perspective, the chosen argumentative strategy can be accepted as adequate for the target audience and the film can be enjoyed as a demagogic comedic road movie conveying the American view of the world. For Europeans, Where to Invade Next unfortunately does not offer much food for thought about what they could do differently and better. 70% (06.06.2016)

Just because I share a great deal of common ground with someone doesn't mean I can't think the person in question is an ass. The whole concept of Moore's trip to Europe, which is portrayed as a Garden of Eden where the rivers are made of jelly, the mountains are made of chocolate, and the clouds are made of whipped cream into which a fat man with an American flag has escaped from some Mordor in the West, can still bear out. And yet his initial hand-washing by intentionally showing only the good can only work if you already want to like the film, because TV Guide can work with that argument. What's harder to take is the process itself, with a semi-mobile mastodon in a boorish cap going from person to person, leading them where they need to go with vague, superficial questions. Once he gets the sentence he wants, he doesn't hesitate to repeat it two or three times (which extends the film by at least 15 minutes), and if the person in question doesn't have the direct words to say, he jumps in until he basically says it for him. Moreover, this is the director's most formally sloppy documentary. The famous Moore-esque montages are almost absent and the whole thing feels more like a vacation video, which I'm afraid is kind of what the whole thing kind of was. (27.04.2016)

Michael Moore once again successfully got me with how brilliantly he marvels at some facts that seem absolutely normal to us. Or at least they are quite normal in other countries. We can also look at what they have as standard somewhere else. It's nice how Moore doesn't criticize directly, but still, his criticism is more than evident. (17.10.2016)