I wrote Michael Moore off.

Fahrenheit 9/11 is what did it. I kept seeing references to scenes in the film about members of bin Laden’s family being allowed to leave the country, and connections between Bush and the Taliban, and hints at other wacko conspiracy theory stuff that really did not appeal to me. I am all about showing the human cost of a given course of action, and revealing hypocrisies, and doing all those other things that amount to one of the noblest aims of art, which is “speaking truth to power.” Moore, however, with his penultimate film, seemed to be doing anything but. Instead of cutting through the powerful smokescreen of propaganda, it seemed as though he was more than willing to create his own pack of lies, half-truths, and misdirection. Only his was “okay” because it was created to work against the bad guys. Or something.

I never saw Fahrenheit 9/11. I never wanted to see it. But when Sicko came out, I heard from various places that the film showed a new Moore, a different Moore. A Moore who felt the tragedy in the film could speak for itself without being edited into incoherence and misrepresentation. A Moore who recognized that there is enough drama in the world, and in his subject, already; he did not have to try and create any of his own. (No, I’m not talking about that moore.)

When I went to the movies, I saw that the word on the street was right on, with the exception of one stunt (involving Guantanamo Bay, I’m sure you’ve heard of it) which thankfully amounted to little in the way of confrontation and much in the way of context. By luck or by design, the most odious of Moore’s techniques were almost entirely absent from the film, and what was present tended to speak for itself.

There are still plenty of quibbles to be had. He focuses only on the problems of the health system in the US, for example, and only on the positive aspects of the universal coverage provided by most other industrialized countries. Even the most unobservant observer would have to admit that the film does not provide a rounded view of any healthcare system. But that’s okay. The film is a bucket of cold water thrown on the face, and that’s better than fair and balanced, given the state of things.

Other nations take care of their citizens. All of them, for less money than is spent by the US and with better results.

In the face of a truth so powerful, there is little else worth saying.

When pathos is mixed with pragmatism, powerful feelings are to be expected. It may not be the whole story, but Moore does speak to power here, and he gives it what amounts to the finger. He gives it the truth.

Go see Sicko if you can, or rent it later on if it’s not in a theater. While Moore’s perspective may be slanted, enough of the true state of America’s healthcare shortcomings come through clearly enough that anyone with a heart–and any other body parts that may someday require care–can’t help but respond.