With his movie Bowling for Columbine, his book Stupid White Men, and his stage performance, Moore has achieved a celebrity hat trick in London: He is attracting massive attention from the press and considerable adulation from his fans. The show, simply titled ‘Michael Moore: Live! At the Roundhouse,’ has been playing six nights a week since early November to sold-out audiences. There is some speculation that it may be extended past the scheduled closing date of Dec. 8.

When you see Moore amble onto the stage you cannot help but be struck by the fact that he looks like some frumpy guy off the street, a disheveled teddy bear. But there is that devilish gleam in his eye. In his two and one-half hour performance, which changes nightly to fit any new developments from the front pages, Moore delivers hilarious satire, brutally scathing one-liners, and rants that range from quite funny to very serious. They can also, at times, be quite discomforting.

The show soon moved into more political territory. Backed by large photos of younger versions of George W. Bush, Tony Blair, Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden, Moore delivered a free-wheeling commentary on current affairs and 9/11, and he mocked the notion that either Saddam or bin Laden could be serious threats in the world, depicting bin Laden as a sickly man running from cave to cave with a dialysis machine. 

One clever skit was set up like a game show. Moore asked for one ‘very smart” American volunteer, insisting that intelligence required a graduate from an Ivy League School (George W. not withstanding). He then asked for a volunteer from an average British university. Moore asked them to respond to a series of questions based on political and geographical trivia — the point being to show that the average Brit is considerably brighter than an above-average American. The questioning, mixed with considerable adlibbing, made this an entertaining bit. And, yes, the average Brit from Middlesex University bested the Magna Cum Laude from Yale.

More serious moments came during a monologue on the Israeli-Palestinian crisis. Moore’s comments about anti-Semitism were just as insightful as his comments regarding the devastation of Palestine. But when the crowd applauded his criticism of Israel, after it had sat silent during his discussion of the Holocaust and his call for a guarantee that it won’t happen again, Moore called them on it: He stopped in mid-sentence, noting the way the crowd reacted to the deaths of Palestinians compared to the deaths of Jews. There was more than a little tension in the room.

Moore’s long and highly emotional exploration of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks was equally tense. At one point he argued that white middle-class Americans are conditioned to expect others to come to their aid, and they are unaccustomed to dealing with issues that make them uneasy — this perspective was also weaved into his discussion on the shooting deaths at Columbine High School. It was a rambling performance, always uncomfortable and sometimes harsh. It was not relieved by humor; Moore spoke in a serious tone, following his heart and head wherever it took him. On one level it was masterful, but it was also riddled with amazing leaps of logic and agonizing moments of drama.

The message, coming from Moore, is a familiar one — be true to yourself, do the right thing every now and then and don’t believe what the politicians tell you. Still, you needn’t be as optimistic or as persistent as Moore to believe that this advice might improve a world that could use considerable doses of improvement.

Richard C. Crepeau is a professor of history at the University of Central Florida in Orlando and a contributing editor to PopPolitics. He is the author of Baseball: America’s Diamond Mind (click here to purchase). His previous articles can be found here.