Acclaimed filmmaker Michael Moore is not known for being subtle, so the fact that his new film, Fahrenheit 11/9, was shocking came as no surprise. The film is comprised of footage shot by Moore and collected from various outside sources, including news sources and social media. It tracks not only the aftermath of Donald Trump’s election (on November 9th of 2016, hence the name), but also explores the political trends that paved the path to his presidency. The film covers a wide variety of topics, from the water crisis in Moore’s hometown of Flint, Michigan, to the corruption of the Democratic National Convention. It also covers more recent events, including the shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland and the subsequent wave of youth-led activism, and some of the new faces in the Democratic party, such as Democratic candidate for Congress in New York’s 14th district, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
The film is brave in its criticism of various individuals and institutions, including ones sympathetic to Moore’s cause. He ferociously takes on the Democratic National Committee, which nominated Hillary Clinton as the Democratic candidate using the votes of superdelegates, despite the fact that her primary challenger, Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT), won more counties than she did in many states. Regardless of one’s views about either candidate, the system is undeniably flawed and unrepresentative of voters’ wishes. In West Virginia, for example, Sanders won all 55 counties in the primaries, yet the state awarded a majority of its votes to Clinton.
Moore also takes on the press, especially the New York Times, which ran a series of columns and opinions designed to discourage more radically progressive Democrats from running. Moore takes responsibility for his own complacency as a member of the independent media, reflecting on previous interactions with Trump’s campaign adviser, Kellyanne Conway, former advisor Steve Bannon, and with Trump himself on Roseanne Barr’s former talk show. In recounting these interactions, he expresses regret for not asking them tougher questions or holding them accountable, and for giving them a platform to espouse their views.
The film’s dark satire is characteristic of Moore. He sprays Flint water on the lawn of the Michigan governor’s mansion, occupied by Republican Rick Snyder, who perpetuated, attempted to cover up, and denied the Flint water crisis. He describes the feeling many get when looking at injustice in America as “throwing up a little in [your] mouth.” He addresses the hopelessness that many voters feel, which leads to low turnout rates in critical elections.
Interspersed among this grim portrait of modern America are glimmers of hope. He features candidates for Congress such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Richard Ojeda, a Democratic State Senator running in southern West Virginia who describes the poverty of his district and dismisses the idea that it is possible to be civil in modern politics, saying, “I don’t care who you are; I’ll fight you right outside.”
The most uplifting part of the whole film (if one can call the circumstances uplifting) is the focus on the teenage activists that have risen from the tragic school shooting in Parkland, Florida. Moore brings the viewer intimate footage from inside the house of Cameron Kasky, who volunteered his living room to be the headquarters of the movement when activists launched the campaign that would go on to become the nationally known March for Our Lives. He includes most of activist Emma Gonzalez’s speech at the March for Our Lives in Washington, DC, including some of when she stood silently on the stage, holding the attention of the camera and the nation, for six minutes and twenty seconds—the length of the Parkland shooting.
Both grim and funny, bleak and inspiring, the film offers lots of material about which to be angry. It is a critical analysis not just of the corruption, racism, sexism, and xenophobia that has poisoned the politics of much of the right, but also of the complacency of the traditional left. The film stops short of offering a real message of hope, and indeed, for high school students who are not of voting age, it leaves the viewer feeling rather hopeless. Much of the film is focused on either voting or on changing the structure of one of the two major political parties, options that are not open to most teenagers. The courage of the Parkland students, however, is proof that teenagers can make a difference without being able to cast a ballot. The film is not one to watch if you want to feel optimistic, but rather one to watch to motivate you to speak up, use your voice, and make a change in the world.