Two documentaries that debuted Friday in the Twin Cities, "Fahrenheit 11/9" and "Time for Ilhan," say a lot about the state of our democracy.
The 11/9 in Michael Moore's new film refers to Nov. 9, the day (or dawn, for bleary-eyed election watchers) in 2016 when it was confirmed that Donald Trump had been elected president. The numbers may have flipped from 'Fahrenheit 9/11," Moore's scorched-earth take on former President George W. Bush, but the film feels familiar, right down to Moore interspersing himself in the story.
That bit works when Moore criticizes his own role in Trump's trajectory, like in chummy joint TV appearances with the future president. But it doesn't work when he reverts to his signature stunts, like watering the lawn at the Michigan governor's mansion with toxic water from Flint.
The tragedy of Flint is too grave for such polemics, and anyway the story is better told by those who lived it — and saw loved ones die from a political and moral scandal that should shock the national conscience. These Flintites are the real stars of "Fahrenheit 11/9," along with other intrepid individuals fighting back against a broken system — such as striking teachers in West Virginia and Parkland, Fla., students calling out NRA-funded political complicity in school shootings. When these everyday heroes are on screen, "Fahrenheit 11/9" sears, and even occasionally soars.
Moore's cinema verité also speaks truth to power by calling out the political-media complex for its failures and by criticizing not just Republicans but the Democratic establishment. Both Bill and Hillary Clinton are castigated for cozying up to corporate interests. And Moore is particularly tough on former President Barack Obama, who deeply disappoints Flint residents by drinking a glass of its tap water in a cheap stunt that suggests the crisis is over when in fact the generations-long impact of its toxic water has just begun.
The ending of Moore's film turns back toward Trump but is marred by his use of Nazi imagery. Beyond being factually inaccurate, it's morally wrong to equate anyone or any movement with the Third Reich, which was singular in its evil. Moore should have skipped the histrionics and given more time to the historians who give context on how democracies can slide into despotism.
Moviegoers may leave "Fahrenheit 11/9" understandably anxious about America's democracy. If so, they should take in a double feature and catch "Time for Ilhan," a new documentary about Minnesota Rep. Ilhan Omar, the refugee-turned-politician whose workplace will likely move from St. Paul to Washington if, as expected, she's elected to Congress on Nov. 6.
"Time for Ilhan," which is having a five-screening run at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, has received raves at film festivals nationwide. But most Minnesotans now know the back story. Born in Somalia, Omar fled her war-torn homeland when she was 8 years old for a Kenyan refugee camp, where she lived for four years. Eventually settling in Minneapolis, she became a student, a mother of three, a senior policy aide for a City Council member, a community organizer and, as the documentary compellingly chronicles, an upstart politician who beat another trailblazer, former Rep. Phyllis Kahn, for a seat in the state Legislature.