by Saoirse Logan

itting in a darkened theater on a Saturday, waiting for “Capitalism: A Love Story” to begin, I was more than a little skeptical about the film I was about to see. In fact, as previews for upcoming movies played, I found myself wondering if the trailer for the latest Disney flick was going to be the most worthwhile thing I saw that afternoon.

Within three minutes of “Capitalism” starting, I saw what would be a pattern for the next two hours – the film is mostly uninformative, misleading, and it misses the real evils that appear plainly throughout.

Moore’s line is that capitalism and big business are bad, and control of the economy needs to be taken out of the hands of banks and corporations, and more heavily regulated by a government “of the people.” His solution, which he has happily spouted off about on various television shows, although he does not explicitly outline it in the film, is increased taxation, and therefore more force and violence. So it should come as no surprise that the film is pure, often infuriating, propaganda.

What has been billed as an attack on capitalism is actually a film chock full of arguments against corporate fascism – and against the state, although Moore shies almost completely away from criticism of the government.

Frame after frame, he alternates between scenes of people being evicted from their homes and testimonials against big banks and corporations that have lied to and wronged their employees. The real “villain” in Moore’s film is corporatism, not capitalism. But how would he sell tickets if he called it that?

Either Moore is exceptionally naïve, or he is as corrupt a person as they come. Considering remarks he made when pressed on the issue by a student at George Washington University, it seems that the latter is the case. The student asks why Moore titled the movie as he did, and if an economy built on private ownership and exchange is really a bad thing, when the real problem appears to be the big banks and the government being in bed together. Moore acknowledges the point, even telling the student that “we don’t really have a free market” but that “he doesn’t want to get hung up on the labels.”

How convenient.

There are three especially frustrating elements of this film:

1. The sheer dishonesty of making it about “capitalism,” when it isn’t about capitalism at all.
2. Moore’s utter refusal to turn his camera on the state, to criticize the government for its role in the economy or the housing crisis, and the pass he gives the criminals responsible for the theft of billions of dollars that have taken place in the last year alone.
3. The numerous opportunities Moore had to make real points about evil and brutality that went completely missed in his hot pursuit of a point he knows isn’t true.

The first of these points has already been addressed – the movie serves as an incomplete attack on corporate fascism under the guise of being an exposé on the evils of capitalism

The second is simply staggering. Moore puts the blame for the financial bailout squarely on the shoulders of financiers, then buddies up to Members of Congress. It’s just so completely and mind-blowingly outrageous that it is difficult to maintain composure as the scenes unfold. Moore interviews one Congresswoman in particular, and she agrees with his description of the bailout passage as a “financial coup d’état.” And that’s pretty much where he stops pressing. Moore does not ask the obvious question – if this is such an outrage, why did you and your colleagues let it happen? It is a pattern he repeats throughout the film.

Perhaps that is what makes it so frustrating – they were there in front of him, and he didn’t even try to hold them accountable. He would still have gotten a lot of spin and political double talk, but he passed up the chance to at least show these people for what they actually are.

For being such a champion of the common man, Moore certainly lets him down when he features a worker’s strike in Chicago. After being fired from their factory positions without receiving their last paychecks, the workers stage a sit-in. Their company had been backed by Bank of America, which, even after receiving bailout funds, refused to give them their wages. The sit-in, of course, garnered media attention and then – surprise! – politicians including Sen. Dick Durbin and Rep. Jan Schakowsky decided to pay these folks a visit.

The irony of these two in particular attempting to show solidarity with the workers is that they voted for the bailout, making them responsible for the theft of the workers’ money in the first place. Who cares if they’re angry that Bank of America hasn’t distributed the paychecks? These two steal from people every day and made this particularly monumental heist possible with their votes. But of course, Moore never points out that they supported the bailout.

The closest Moore comes to criticizing politicians comes with his half-ass portion on the housing crisis. He interviews Robert Feinberg, who brokered sweetheart loan deals for “friends of Angelo,” a select group of VIP clients given special attention because of their affiliation with Countrywide CEO Angelo Mozilo. Moore gives a list of Washington elites who benefited from this designation, including the head of Housing and Urban Development; Sen. Kent Conrad, chairman of the Budget Committee and, perhaps most egregiously, Sen. Chris Dodd, chairman of the Banking, Housing & Urban Affairs Committee.

Perhaps you should take a minute and let that sink in. Three of the highest ranking officials with regard to housing and the country’s finances were taking special deals from a company that was simultaneously doing them favors and contributing to the collapse of the housing industry.

Feinberg is unapologetic about his work, saying it was widely known that he was giving special deals to these “VIPS,” while colleagues in the next office were giving toxic loans to less notorious (and less nefarious) clients. The housing market was on the verge of collapse – a fact of which Dodd and his other Washington cronies were undoubtedly well-aware- and they were getting kickbacks from their brothers in corruption. None of this is surprising, of course. What is hard to stomach is the clip Moore then uses of Dodd testifying to Congress about the need for higher standards and stricter regulation in the banking industry.

The audacity is amazing, even for a corrupt politician. What is really shameful on Moore’s part is his sudden silence. He’s full of snarky comments throughout the rest of the film, especially when mocking the ideas of free enterprise and the profit motive. But when it comes to one of his friends in Washington talking out of both sides of his mouth at the expense of millions of defenseless people? Suddenly he doesn’t have so much to say.

Moore also interviews Elizabeth Warren, who chairs the Congressional Oversight Committee, which is supposed to track how the $700 billion in bailout funds are being used. As is to be expected from someone in Washington, Warren gives a lot of non-answers – and Moore lets her get away with it.

In a stunning act of omission, Moore never once mentions the Community Reinvestment Act of 1977, which forced banks to give loans to uncredit-worthy borrowers. This government act of force and stupidity was a direct cause of the housing crisis. Moore must not have read that chapter of the history book. His failure to include that vital piece of information delegitimizes, in my opinion, his authority as a filmmaker. Whatever reasonable points he makes about corporatism, and there are a few, are completely overshadowed by his negligence and renders the film not worth seeing.

Perhaps what got me most is that there are so many teachable moments (gods, I hate that phrase) in the film that are wasted on an empty and illogical point. The image of sheriff’s officers literally forcing their way into one family’s home to foreclose on it, or the nine police cars sent to a destitute Florida community to stop a family from returning to the house from which they were evicted are among two of the most difficult to watch. But does Moore point out that the use of violence and force against unarmed, helpless people is wrong under any circumstances? No. He just chalks the events up as the inevitable ends of capitalism, without acknowledging the system that allows them to use clubs and guns against people in the first place.

Another chilling scene involves four teenagers from Wilkes-Barre, Pa., who were arrested for the most minor crimes imaginable – one was arrested for throwing a cooked steak at a parent during an argument at the dinner table, another made critical remarks about the assistant principal at her high school.

Each was locked up at the falsely named “PA Child Care” juvenile detention facility for months on end. It was difficult to hear these teens speak about their experiences: after their arrests, they were hauled before a judge who, in some cases, did not even make eye contact with them, then sentenced each and every child who appeared before him to at least several months in the center. Many saw their sentences extended without any warning or chance at a second trial.

Moore’s point is that the government – which apparently profited greatly off this scheme – had turned over control of the facility to a private contractor, who made shady deals in order to make more money. Shady deals made between corrupt businessmen and politicians? Doesn’t sound all that uncommon to me. In fact, it seems like exactly what he talked about during the entire movie. Was what happened to those children absolutely criminal? Of course. But was it a case of the evils of capitalism? Clearly not.

Perhaps the most irritating stunt in the film is the one that has been most publicized – his staging of a “citizen’s arrest” of the head honchos at major Wall Street banks. Could he possibly have come up with a more meaningless gesture? Marking the sidewalk around AIG or CitiBank as a crime scene and waving cloth sacks with which to reclaim the taxpayers’ billions is even more annoying than it is laughable. If you’re going to take such a futile and fruitless course of action, why not go to Washington, D.C., and wrap that caution tape around the Capitol a few hundred times? I’m all for pointing out evil, but let’s give the proper villains their credit.

If Moore really wanted to start a revolution, he might have spent a few minutes on the fact that the bailout came out of Washington – it was developed by then-Treasury Secretary and former Goldman Sachs CEO Hank Paulson, and agreed to by Congress. He might have pointed out the myriad ways in which government involvement has created devastation and conflict everywhere it is felt.

He might have given his film another title and acknowledged that capitalism is a system through which people actually do have a say in the economy, through voluntary exchange and free enterprise. And he wouldn’t be using this movie as a sorry excuse for why more government, rather than less – or better, none at all, is the only way his “common man” will ever have a chance at real freedom and prosperity.

I suppose the question to be answered at the end of any review is whether or not the reviewer would recommend it to other people. In the case of “Capitalism: A Love Story,” my answer would be no. Unless you want to induce indigestion, high blood pressure and alternate feelings of frustration and exhaustion as you listen to the rest of the audience chuckle in agreement with his half-baked point of view, spend the two hours and $10 bucks on something worthwhile.