And that’s not hyperbole. I know I wasn’t hallucinating when I saw a number of reviewers rave about the humor in this movie. One of them even called it “Moore’s funniest movie yet!”
I’d love to put a hundred people in a room and force them to watch this ragged film and actually count how many laughs it generates. Unless you tend to roll in the aisles when George Bush is shown stumbling a bit during a speech (a tired old Moore “technique”), the only noise you’ll hear from the audience is proverbial cricket chirping.
Picture, if you will, this scene: Michael Moore sitting in a French restaurant with a bunch of snotty yuppie Americans who love living in Paris. They love France because of its universal health care. This small group brags of being treated often at doctor’s offices and hospitals for free. Moore is amazed. His eyes bulge as he scratches his head in wonderment at how Parisians get free health care by loving French medical professionals. He’s simply thrilled at the revelation that the French government evidently provides workers to do the laundry for families with children. He’s so smitten with the concept of government-provided laundresses that he uses that as the big dramatic “punch line” of the movie, carrying his laundry over his shoulder and trekking up Capital Hill hoping to convince the U.S. government to do the same for him.
Hardy-har-har. Really riveting stuff, eh?
I’m now officially convinced that most American movie critics are the biggest bunch of spineless wonders in practically any occupation. I can picture them walking out of their screening rooms fully realizing what a stinker of a movie “Sicko” is, but terrified at being labeled un-hip or non-cool by not salivating over a Michael Moore debacle.
I’ve only scratched the surface of how truly rotten this movie is. I’ll spare you the agony of hearing how Moore fawns over Cuba and the heroic techniques Cuban doctors used to help the sick (exploited) 9/11 victims; I’ll resist describing in detail how Moore crams his massive frame into a tiny French car with a doctor who makes house calls; and I’ll avoid detailing all the America-hating, French/Cuba/England-loving tripe that Moore constantly spews in this movie that moves at a glacier’s pace.
If you’re considering shelling out any money to watch a movie this weekend, by all means, avoid “Sicko.” It doesn’t even manage to do what his other movies have done and leave you sick to your stomach.
Meanwhile, I’ve gotta try and figure out how to get those two hours of my life back that were utterly wasted this afternoon…