
Variety
May 27, 2002 - June 7, 2002
Bowling For Columbine
LISA NESSELSON
Lifelong National Rifle Assn. member and award-winning (teen) marksman
Michael Moore goes gunning for guns in "Bowling for Columbine,"
a rollicking, incendiary documentary that looks down the barrel of America's
love affair with firearms. Keeping the insolvable mystery of trigger-happiness
in his sights, from Flint, Mich., to Littleton, Colo., and from Manhattan
to Toronto, Moore targets and indulges in specious reasoning about just
what makes so many Yanks so violent. Is Moore objective? Absolutely
not. But he has pertinent axes to grind and the sparks fly, thanks to
his patented blend of curveball research, expedient juxtaposition, genuine
satire and bottomless chutzpah. In its mission to inform, entertain
and rile, the first doc to compete at the Cannes Film Festival in 46
years lives up to the prestige of the slot. Venture should fan out to
lively theatrical biz and a hearty ancillary afterlife.
Pre-credits seg shows Moore --- whose strength may reside in his ever-present
baseball cap as Samson's did in his hair --- opening an account at a
Michigan bank that rewards new customers with a free gun. "The
bank is a licensed firearms dealer," a clerk explains with matter-of-fact
pride, asserting they have 500 firearms in their vault at all times.
"Do you think it's a little dangerous handing out guns in a bank?"
Moore asks. Authentic deadpan example of how guns and money intersect
is a perfect intro to the barrage of interviews and creative speculation
to follow.
Other countries have the same alleged contributing factors of broken
homes, multicultural populations, unemployment, youth exposure to violent
films and obnoxious rock lyrics, but there's no comparing 68 gun deaths
a year in the U.K. or 165 in Canada with the annual U.S. figure of 11,127.
Moore plays fast and somewhat loose with the history of U.S. military
and intelligence intervention over the past 50 years, illustrating with
keenly chosen archival and newsreel footage many of the arguments outlined
in his latest book, "Stupid White Men." The U.S. has had a
hand in coups and assassinations, installing and removing dictators
with impunity. Info zips past faster than the targets in a fairgrounds
rifle range, but Moore means to suggest that a nation whose citizens
tend to settle their domestic differences with bullets is that much
more likely to employ undemocratic strong-arm tactics beyond its borders.
Trying doorknobs at random to verify whether Canadians lock their doors,
Moore entertainingly questions why Canada --- with 7 million guns for
its total of 10 million households --- doesn't suffer from the horrific
gun violence of its large neighbor to the south.
Worth the price of admission is a freestanding animated seg in which
a talking bullet traces the American knack for shooting first and asking
questions later, from the pilgrims to the present day.
Twelve students and one teacher died in the massacre at Columbine High
School in Littleton, Colo., on April 20, 1999 --- coincidentally the
heaviest day of U.S. bombing in Kosovo. Moore visits Lockheed --- 5,000
of whose employees live in the region of Littleton --- suggesting that
if dad goes off to build nuclear missiles every day, his offspring may
conclude it's OK to kill people. Harrowing surveillance-camera footage
from the deadly assault at Columbine, accompanied by recordings of frantic
phone calls to police and radio stations, packs a wallop.
Moore takes on the availability of ammunition, the imminent onslaught
of Africanized killer bees and even the urban legend of razorblades
in apples that soured Halloween while building his thesis that the media
--- particularly television --- conspire to stoke a year-round climate
of fear , convincing ordinary folks that their death or maiming is probably
around the corner unless they arm themselves to the gills. This already
omnipresent commerce in heebie-jeebies has been exacerbated in the wake
of Sept. 11.
When Moore takes his questions to the top, retailer Kmart is a gratifying
model of corporate responsiveness. American entertainment icons Dick
Clark and Charlton Heston fare less well when subjected to Moore's guerrilla
tactics. That said, Heston --- who Moore believes lacked sensitivity
in addressing rousing NRA gatherings in Colorado and Michigan shortly
after gun-related tragedies --- is as good at conveying his p.o.v. as
Moore is.
Scapegoated shock rocker Marilyn Manson expresses himself with lucid
candor, as do the majority of Moore's interviewees. Notable exception
is President George W. Bush, who sounds like a refugee from a bad-grammar
class.
"South Park" co-creator Matt Stone, who was raised in Littleton,
explains that while Columbine was "painfully normal" when
he was there, the teachers were destructive in their overbearing message
that any kid who wasn't overachieving in sixth grade "would die
poor and lonely." He maintains that many a troubled teen can't
see past the crucible of high school to the future that nearly always
vindicates the social misfits and punishes the popular kids. Getting
that message out might be more effective than gun control.
Use of source music as ironic punctuation is sharp.
Doc's title refers to the fact that the two Columbine shooters attended
a bowling class the morning of their fatal rampage.
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