Profit Motive Vs. Prophet Motive: Michael Moore Talks Capitalism

In the climactic scene of his new comic documentary Capitalism: A Love Story, Moore descends upon Wall Street ready to mete out some classic Michael Moore mischief. He unrolls crime scene tape around the New York Stock Exchange. He shows up at AIG headquarters with his camera crew and tries to barge past the security guards, saying he wants to make a citizen’s arrest of the CEO. Rebuffed, he stands outside the building with a bullhorn saying Americans want their money back. All of which raises a pressing question: isn’t Michael Moore getting too old for this shit?

If you said yes, Moore himself would probably agree with you. He even calls a stop to the shenanigans in his voiceover narration to say enough is enough: he’s sick of doing this stuff alone, and he’s not going to do it anymore unless you — yeah, you, sitting there in the movie theatre — start backing him up.

“It’s the voice of a man who’s entered his 50s and would like to see change in his lifetime,” says Moore over an unreliable cellphone connection as he rides a train toward his next exhausting battery of interviews. “So maybe there’s more a sense of urgency to this particular film.”

What’s the pressing cause Moore is pursuing this time out? Nothing less than the discrediting of the entire capitalist system. Capitalism is literally evil, he says — and he interviews several religious leaders who back that statement up. What’s more, he says, it’s un-American too, creating social and political power imbalances that are inherently anti-democratic.

Capitalism is by turns inspiring, funny, frustrating, and aggravating in that special way only a Michael Moore movie can be. It’s at its strongest when it’s telling smaller stories (like the one about the workers at a Chicago window and door company who staged a successful sit-down strike when their plant shut down and their former bosses refused to pay them their back wages) and making smaller points (like the segment about the criminally low pay of commercial airline pilots). It’s less persuasive during Moore’s breezy history lessons or his faux-naïve inquiry into the subprime mortgage crisis.

What? A Michael Moore movie whose arguments don’t quite hold together? Shocking, I know, but it should also be said that Capitalism, like all of Moore’s work, is consistently entertaining and engaging, often brilliantly edited, cutting through self-serving political rhetoric with admirable bluntness. The opening montage of grainy security footage of bank robberies set to “Louie Louie” says it all: someone is stealing from us. Let’s bring them to justice.

Here’s the rest of my conversation with Michael Moore.

Q: Who do you see as the target audience for this film? Do you make these movies for “Michael Moore fans,” or do you make them for people who still need to be persuaded about something?

Michael Moore: It’s a number of audience, obviously. The people who’ve been my fans for 20 years will love this film, I think, every bit as much as they loved the first ones. But I’m one of the few people on the left who’s been fortunate enough to have crossed over to the mainstream audience. I’m always making films for people who don’t have access to media, who don’t get the smaller movies, the working class, the have-nots of society — I want them to see this film and know there’s someone who’s going to go to bat for them.

Q: In both Sicko and in this film, you make a point of talking to people who supported Bush — you’ll insert these shots of these Bush/Cheney bumper stickers or a George W. Bush commemorative plate — and who you could argue are, to some extent, voting against their best interests.

MM: I’ve done 300 interviews, and you are the first reporter to recognize that. I’m sorry I’m not there to hand you your brand-new car that you’ve won. It’s so dispiriting doing this media tour, because I don’t get asked questions like that, or talk to people who see the subtext of what I’m doing. But I think it’s there in the film, even though I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But yes, I’ve been invited into the homes of all sorts of people who voted for George W. Bush.

Q: Are they at all wary of you? Do they see you being demonized by the media on the right and worry they’re going to be mocked or misrepresented?

MM: No, none of that. These guys who go after me — the Rush Limbaughs, the Bill O’Reillys — are not your average citizens. They have an agenda to protect the status quo, the corporate interests. And they see I’m dangerous because I don’t just talk to “the church of the left.” I’m not making my movies for the church. I’m not making my movies for Noam Chomsky. I’m trying to reach people who grew up like I did, in middle America, with conservative values, and who’ve been manipulated and lied to. And the reason they let me in their home is because they’ve noticed over the years that here’s the guy who warned us about GM. Here’s the guy who warned us that Iraq was going to be a mistake. Even though they may disagree with me about guns or abortion, they put that aside. I’m here to stand up for anyone who’s getting hurt by the system.

Q: In movies like Sicko and Capitalism, there’s something so poignant about the way working people are so surprised when the people they work for turn out not to have their best interests at heart — that these companies don’t reciprocate the loyalty their employees show to them.

MM: Yeah. Well, the selling of the American dream has been one of the most successful pieces of propaganda of all time. We’re told from an early age that anyone in American can become wealthy. And enough examples of it happen every now and then — occasionally a Michael Moore does well, or a Barack Obama becomes president — to validate what is essentially a lie.

Q: I’m curious about the craft that goes into making your films. Between the planning, the shooting, and the editing, where would you say most of the creative work of your movies takes place?

MM: I have only a very general idea of the film when I start. I don’t have a script. We then go out and shoot for a period of months, during which the story takes shape. I try to keep a very open mind, because I know that people sitting in the theatre want to be surprised by a story that takes twists and turns; they don’t want something that’s just nice and pat.

Q: Did Capitalism wind up going in any directions that you weren’t expecting?

MM: Well, I started making this one about five months before the crash. I started with this concept that capitalism is un-American and anti-Jesus. And anti-Buddha and anti-Muhammad, for that matter. So then the crash happens, and suddenly there’s a third reason why capitalism is a bad idea: it doesn’t work! Even capitalists don’t actually believe in free enterprise or the free market; they want help as soon as they hit the skids. They want socialism for themselves. They don’t want competition; they want to merge, or buy it out.

Q: How do you see yourself? Are you primarily a comedian? An artist? A political activist? When you’re assembling your movies, are you more willing to sacrifice a political point or a good joke?

MM: I consider myself a writer. That’s probably the most important thing to me: telling a story. To say I’m a political activist is redundant, because I’m a citizen in a democracy, so automatically I’m an activist. But yes, humour is important. No good laugh gets left on the cutting room floor.

Q: What is Wallace Shawn doing in this movie? I mean, I realize he’s a very respected essayist and playwright, but it’s still a little jarring to see him — is the idea that audiences will listen to the Princess Bride guy critiquing capitalism in a way they wouldn’t put up with some stuffy-looking economist?

MM: Again, you’re the first person to ask me that question. Wallace Shawn is in the film because... Well, if you’ve followed my work from the beginning, you know that ever since Roger & Me, I was someone who didn’t like documentaries. I found them boring and unnecessary. So I set out to make anti-documentaries — to upend the form and create a new and different genre. So in the typical documentary about capitalism, you’d hear from this economist and that economist and maybe someone who writes for The Economist. But I wanted to bring you someone else, who’s equally smart as any of them, who’s a real thinker, but who has two distinct audiences: Wally has the Princess Bride audience, and the intellectual audience who admires him for his plays and My Dinner With André. So that’s why he’s in the movie. And it’s a surprise. I mean, don’t you love going to the movies and seeing things you don’t expect?

Q: One of the things that’s maybe prevented people from getting as angry about this crash as they should is that it’s so hard for the average person to understand. But I’m curious: would you say this is a complicated story or a very simple story?

MM: It’s very complicated, and that’s why I chose it. I wanted the challenge of taking on something that nobody in their right mind would try making an entertaining documentary about for a mass audience. You’re right: most people don’t understand what happened, but I believe people are also always thirsty for knowledge. At the same time, they don’t want to seem dumb by asking. I honestly believe, from the fan mail I’ve already received, that people leave this film feeling they have at least cursory knowledge about this issue, and they appreciate being told in a simple and pointed way. You’ll have these phony pointy heads saying, “That Michael Moore — he’s just being simplistic.” But I think what’s really bothering them is that I’ve taken the complex and made it understandable to the average person, which is something no one is supposed to be able to do.