Assisted greatly by free publicity generated when Disney buckled to fears of political reprisal, Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11 set an all time record for box office receipts of 23.9 million in its opening weekend, finishing atop the box office despite screening on nearly 2,000 fewer theaters than the latest teen comedy release. Many theaters were turning away patrons from sold out screenings, prompting news outlets to declare the film a true phenomenon. Never before had a documentary taken in as much money during its entire run, and Moore's controversial film accomplished this over three days (prompting some to compare it to Mel Gibson's The Passion).

As the liberal counter puncher to hundreds of conservative talk show hosts and Fox News, Michael Moore makes no pretensions about making an "objective" treatise here. Convinced that George W. Bush is leading the U.S. down the wrong path, his stated mission is domestic regime change and even conducted test screenings with “swing voters” to determine the final cut. Essentially incorporating the ideas from Dude, Where's My Country, Moore designs his most tightly constructed film to date to paint Bush as an incompetent doofus, who lies to the American people to obscure the real motivations underlying the war on terrorism. Bush's rhetorical gaffes and inarticulateness have frequently provided easy marks for humor, and Moore uses a select few to great comic effect, as well as deftly juxtaposing news footage, home video, and outtake candid footage to create a devastatingly satirical portrait.

Even Bush supporters who happen to wander into the theater will have to admit that the film is often hilarious. The opening credits alone prepare us for the coming caricatures, as Bush and administration members get primped before publicly going on camera—from the uncomfortable-appearing chief executive practicing facial expressions (including a shifty-eyed pose) to the outrageous comb licking routine of deputy secretary of defense, Paul Wolfowitz. Certainly they never expected this footage to be preserved, but there's no denying the comical effects of the candid camera.

What will outrage Bush supporters the most will be the overall message that Bush is hardly the courageous, decisive leader that his campaign purports him to be. After an especially effective and chilling sequence that blackens the screen as we hear the all too familiar sounds of the passenger planes plowing into the Twin Towers before seeing reaction shots of eyewitnesses, Moore shifts the scene to the Florida elementary school classroom where President Bush is simultaneously going through a photo op. Notified of the second attack on the World Trade Center, Bush continues reading My Pet Goat for seven minutes before leaving, but not before looking like a lost puppy during this respite away from national cameras. Yet the teacher had preserved the historic moment on video, and now everyone can witness the president's initial befuddled looks firsthand.

Further clouding Bush's credibility is his close friend James R. Bath, whose name is mysteriously blacked out on the military records that Bush released to explain his absence from the Texas Air National Guard. As the camera zooms in close to the document, Bath's name is conspicuously blacked out—and Moore asks why? It turns out that Bath manages the $1.4 billion dollar Saudi money that has gushed into the Bush family enterprises over the years, explaining why the White House has been so deferential to the Saudis. Not well covered by the media (though available through persistent digging) is the fact that the highest levels of the administration quickly ushered 22 members of the bin Laden family back to Saudi Arabia without even being questioned by the FBI! With 14 of the 9/11 hijackers coming from Saudi Arabia, Moore legitimately asks why the focus on terrorists has remained steadfastly aimed at Afghanistan and Iraq.

Even less covered by the media were details of the day that Bush's election became official; at least I was completely unaware of the fact that Congress can debate the election as long as just one representative and one senator dispute it. Ironically, Vice President Gore presides over the session, and we see a number of black representatives challenge the results but without a single senator's signature, the debate over the controversial election is silenced most emphatically by Gore. The system remains in motion, yet this sequence reminds once again about how many felt disenfranchised by Florida election officials and the U.S. Supreme Court, and sets the tone for Bush's alleged illegitimate and incompetent administration.

Unlike previous documentaries (Roger and Me, The Big One, Bowling for Columbine), Moore's hefty frame stays out of the camera view most of the time although he narrates throughout. However, two archetypal Moore moments are especially memorable. With only one of 451 Congressmen sending their own children to Iraq, Moore (accompanied by a disillusioned Marine) approaches Congressmen to sign up their sons and daughters for Iraq with predictably laughable results. The other is an eerie spontaneous encounter that takes place across the street from the Saudi Arabia Embassy, where secret service agents encircle Moore to inquire what he's up to. That only confirms Moore's suspicions that the Saudis have FAR more influence on the White House than we'd expect, even if they do control 7% of the U.S. economy.

While previous Moore documentaries meander through a twisted maze that occasionally gets sidetracked, he keeps his view firmly fixed on presenting a coherent challenge to the Bush administration this time. It's hardly a documentary in the classic sense, and Moore himself calls it an “op-ed piece” relentlessly making the case against Bush, following sequentially the election fiasco, Bush's early days that consisted of 42% vacation days, the 9/11 attacks and aftermath, the Patriot Act, and the so called War on Terror. Despite the serious nature of the charges, Moore spices them up with enough humor to make the issues entertaining—take the security marketing guy drinking his Chardonnay in the "comfort" of his indestructible cubicle, the juxtaposition of the Animal's song "We Gotta Get Outta This Place" with the escaping bin Laden family members on White House approved private jets, a Bonanza lampoon of the Bush administration for its "smoking out" operation in Afghanistan, or the Dragnet clip to illustrate traditional police questioning, and many other clever montages.

As far as the Iraq War, it's hardly surprising to contrast idyllic Baghdad life with its bombing and destruction, but is still a gruesome reminder that war is far worse when viewed close and personal instead of relying on cold newspaper reports and black and white casualty figures. The U.S. propaganda machine knows this well from Viet Nam; consequently they censor pictures of American casualties since they are real "downers." Of course Moore dares to show a few scenes to put a real life face on the situation and he meets his representative swing voter in Lila Lipscomb, a government worker from his hometown of Flint. Initially gung-ho for the U.S. and its military objectives, she changes radically after receiving letters from her enlisted son and getting the dreaded "regret to inform" call from the Marines.

With both Bush and Kerry forced to appeal to the great American mainstream to vie for the swing voters, we can't expect them to go out on a limb and question core issues the way an outsider can. That is the value of a filmmaker like Michael Moore, a virtual one man left wing prankster who provides a welcome relief to the relentless right wing banter of Rush Limbaugh and his minions. Anyone watching Fahrenheit 9/11 knows exactly what he's in for beforehand, so it's certain to energize progressives who want "ABB" (Anybody But Bush) in the White House and it's certainly not going to convert hard core Bush supporters. Whether the film succeeds with its mission by influencing enough swing voters to influence the 2004 election remains to be seen, but the entertaining film does successfully poke fun of the current administration and ask provocative questions about the underlying agenda behind the current events of the day—strikingly brought home with one of Moore's most eloquent closing statements that echo his steadfast support for the "little guy."