J. Mark Price
Staff Writer
Michael Moore looks out of place.
Amid the luxurious surroundings of the Houstonian, where the rich hardwood and flowing elegance are designed to pacify society's elite, Moore's decidedly blue-collar presentation provides a not-unpleasant contrast.
Moore is a sharp fellow and is, of course, aware of the irony that accompanies his holding court poolside at the Houstonian.
After making two films and writing a book on the evils and domination of the "little guy" by corporate America, the humor in this situation is not lost on Moore.
When pressed on the subject, he admits to having "made a pact with the devil," but he goes on to explain the necessity of such an arrangement. It is impossible to widely market a book or a film, like his latest release, The Big One, without substantial sponsorship. How else could he spread his message concerning the diabolical acts of corporate America without corporate America's help in distribution? He is pleased with Miramax, however, who is handling his new release.
They have agreed to donate half of the film's profits to the betterment of Flint, Mich., Moore's original hometown and the subject of his scathing first film, Roger and Me.
General Motors' lay-offs in Flint were the starting point of Moore's battle with corporate America. In 1989, he filmed the critically acclaimed documentary in which he tried desperately to locate GM's CEO, Roger Smith, and bring him to Flint in search of accountability. After all, GM had posted record profits that year. Its gift to long-time workers in Flint was mass lay-offs in favor of cheap Mexican labor.
Moore's follow-up effort was a book entitled Down-Size This. On the promotional tour that followed, Moore took a camera crew and went after major corporations in many stops along the tour, going after the companies (and their CEOs) where atrocities had been committed against the working man.
The resulting film effort, The Big One, is a powerful blend of truly disheartening situations and business practices, peppered with Moore's off-beat style of humor to liven things up.
I asked Moore what he felt was the strongest positive result to have emerged so far from the films and the book.
"Well ... it's shown a lot in classrooms," Moore said. "A lot of young people growing up have seen it. If it gets people to think about these issues or take an alternative look at how our economy is run, then I feel good about that."
Moore says that he gets a lot of mail each day and that there has been a substantial impact resulting from his book and films. But he says that rather than feeling as though he is on a crusade, he is more concerned with being a citizen.
"If everyone did their bit, if everyone participated, then things would get better. And if more filmmakers made films about things that were going on, I think mine wouldn't stand out like this. It's rare these days that you'll have films dealing with social issues," he said.
Moore sits back comfortably, toying with a cup of peanut M&Ms he has requested from the hotel staff. He is unsure whether or not to eat them. After rolling them about in his cup for a few seconds, he looks across the table, smiles and asks, "Where do you suppose they got these?"
Shortly before commenting on the limitations of what he is doing, Moore takes a comic jab at George W. Bush for having had it all handed to him and jokingly cites the University of Houston, for my benefit, as a positive example of a capable American corporation.
He summed up his thoughts on his projects.
"In the end it's just a movie," he said. "It can't really change the world."
And in case you are wondering how Flint has fared since Moore's Roger and Me was filmed, there have been another 10,000 lay-offs from GM plants, and 68 percent of school children live below the poverty level.
Moore shakes his head sadly. "It's not good," he says, "Not good at all."
But you get the feeling that Moore is the real deal and will keep doing what he can to make things better.