Like him or not, Michael Moore’s documentaries have a way of totally infuriating an audience while at the same time eliciting passionate reflection on the status of our society. His methods range from courageous to entirely manipulative, and he runs the gambit quite frequently in his latest film “Bowling for Columbine,” a journey into the horrific but occasionally humorous land of gun violence in America.

      As a documentarian, Moore certainly deviates from the strictest sense of the word. His films are neither objective nor unbiased, as Moore attempts to play both documentarian and protagonist, many times simultaneously. But what his films lack in objectivity, they certainly make up for in impact. “Bowling for Columbine” is the perfect example, a documentary that explores our gun-crazed American society, and reasons for its appalling violence.

      The journey begins with Moore entering a bank somewhere in the Midwest, where an ad states they’re giving away rifles to customers who open a new bank account. His goofy demeanor reflects exactly what he wants the audience to feel, making us wonder, “how stupid is it for a bank full of money to be giving away firearms inside its own premises?” Not for a second do we question the rationale behind the marketing ploy, the kinds of people who frequent banks in this area, the amount of gun violence in the town. Once again, Moore uses a medium that prides itself on objectivity to make his own very opinionated statements. And that’s just the beginning.

      We travel from Littleton, Colorado to Flint, Michigan, to Windsor, Ontario and onward, in search for the real reasons behind the tragic gun violence that has paralyzed our society. In Littleton, Colorado, home of Columbine high school, Moore talks with South Park creator Matt Stone (a Littleton native and Columbine alumnus), as well as students and parents of students affected by the school shootings. We even see the haunting footage taken from surveillance cameras inside the building during the incident, one of the most horrifying and devastating pieces of footage you will ever witness. It’s a wakeup call, one that every American needs to understand.

      Thankfully, Moore balances these extremely serious moments with occasionally funny asides, interviewing a group of hookie-playing Canadian teens about their views on America, and also including Chris Rock’s hilarious stand-up routine on gun control -- a $5000 tax on individual bullets. Says Rock, “I'm gonna blow your muthaf*&kin' head off...when I can afford it!' There's also a side-splitting animated sequence on America and the white man that's worth the price of admission.

      Moore, a lifetime member of the NRA, is on an unmapped journey. It feels more like a crusade, as he examines our nation’s obsession with firearms and some possible solutions. In a scene reminiscent of his 1989 film “Roger and Me,” Moore travels to K-Mart headquarters with two students shot in the Columbine massacre (they were shot with bullets Harris and Klebold purchased at K-Mart), in an attempt at getting the retailer to rethink its sale of bullets in stores. His courage and sincerity, not to mention those of the three young men who accompany him, are a source of inspiration in the film. But as the conclusion of these meetings serves as a high point, there are certainly some low points.

      In Flint, Michigan, where a little girl was shot and killed by her six-year-old classmate, Moore shows us the cold-hearted duality of our nation’s media. Focusing on a local reporter in the area, we see countless takes of the man delivering a sad account of the events taking place, only to see his true face turn on when the camera goes off (yelling at his technicians, joking about his hair). Moore’s contempt for the media is obvious. His contempt for NRA president Charlton Heston is even more so. Arranging for a meeting in Heston’s palatial home, Moore introduces himself to Heston as card-carrying member of the NRA (National Rifle Association). Unbeknownst to Heston is that he’s been set up for the kill. As spontaneous as Moore would like us to believe this meeting is, he’s there for one reason only, and that is to embarrass beyond belief the man many Americans truly believe delivered us the Ten Commandments. As a liberal, I’m the first one to admit my deep contempt for the NRA and its deity-like president Heston. But what ensues is one of the most uncomfortable and saddening scenes in the entire film. After a brief conversation, Moore lulls Heston to the point where he can ask for an official apology from the NRA president for rallies they held in Colorado and Michigan a mere days after the two school shootings. Realizing the trap, the decrepit Heston hobbles away, turning his back on a picture of the Michigan girl Moore is holding in his hands. In that one haunting moment, I felt both a deep hatred and deep sorrow for Heston; a man who could so coldly turn his shoulder from the reality of the situation, yet was set up by Moore from the very beginning to fall on his face.

      Moore eventually leads us to the Canadian border, to a country where there are nearly as many guns as people, and where gun violence is almost as foreign as Canada is in American history books. It is the most thought-provoking expedition on Moore’s journey, and will leave you truly questioning what it is about our northern sisters and brothers that make them so different from us.

      The film ultimately challenges us to think about the bigger picture, and I assure you, conversations based on watching “Bowling for Columbine” will last for days afterwards. Moore’s deep compassion on the issues of gun violence ultimately hold the film together (which tends to wander on numerous occasions), but one can’t help but wonder whether it will all be for not. Conservatives will surely sniff out Moore’s questionable tactics as a conspiracy against the right-wing, leaving liberals to discuss the film’s issues as they so often have in the past, amongst themselves. The cycle continues, but at least it’s a start.

Stephen Wong, 2002