It goes without saying that we all owe Michael Moore a big hand for going out and doing our liberal work for us.

From big oil to shady chemical companies to big pharmaceutical companies, Moore has been the full throated advance guard. Having said that, I must say he’s never been my cup of cola. I find him, except for “Bowling for Columbine,” a bit boring for my taste. I prefer the more professional HBO “Vice” with more depth, better visuals and serious reporting.

In his new, well-meaning, rose-colored-glassed travelogue, Moore, as always the patriot, takes his flag seriously and literally. He throws the Grand Old Flag over his shoulder like a Frank Sinatra jacket and, with a pole attached to it, plants it symbolically on the soil of several very white socialistic countries, hoping to bring home some backup for Bernie Sanders’ campaign.

In “Where to Invade,” Moore informs us that in Slovenia you can get a college education free. I think they said something about generous health care. But Cuba offers that, and it’s closer to a Miami Starbucks and cable.

We meet a sexy young Italian couple. He’s a cop. She orders books for a department store. They are both gorgeous, fit, trim and well off. We learn from them that Italy offers a legally mandated seven weeks of paid vacation. Say what? If you had seven weeks off from work in Tuscany, would you leave? Would you take Cleveland instead of Florence?

Next we journey to Portugal, where we’re surprised to learn that there is no penalty for carrying or using drugs. You can carry your stash around, shoot up or take a drag in front of a cop, and go home for a beer.

Moore takes us to France, where he visits a grade school cafeteria, and we’re shown what young French kids get to eat for lunch. OMG, you’ll be tempted to take the family and move to France, hoping the kids bring some lunch for dinner. The camera hovers over delectable fish and chicken entrees, yummy creme brulee and a daily selection of three or four cheeses. All that’s missing is a nice pinot noir and an afternoon snack break of caviar.

This was the best spot of the tour. The kids were charming and horrified at what we feed our kids here in central Maine. When shown pictures of American school lunch offerings, they all wince and back off. But for one brave girl, seven boys and girls at Moore’s table declined to accept a sip of Coke. When Moore asks how she liked it, she shrugs an OK. “Let’s see how you feel in 15 minutes,” Moore snickers.

Le Grand Tour takes us to Tunisia, where our Christian friends would be horrified to learn that the Tunisian government offers free abortions and is surprisingly open about gay rights, as long as nobody does anything to scare the horses.

A bit of comedy lightens the often droning interviews now and then, as when in the interview with the president of Slovenia, Moore discovers that the Slovenian alphabet doesn’t have a W. “Was that before or after our President George W. Bush?” The joke falls flat. You know how Slovenians are. Have you ever met a Slovenian stand-up comic?

In the whole tour, I was not surprised to see a great sea of white faces, particularly in Germany and Sweden. Even Tunisia was barely tan. I suggest that Moore go back to his earlier efforts when he talked to unhappy folks in the street and did fewer office chair chats with important people. There must be a few Italians unhappy with the country’s notorious corruption.

Next time out, I’d like to have him spend some time deep in the troubled bowels of the Vatican.

By the way, Michael, your native city, Flint, called. Can you send back some of that pristine water the French kids were gulping at lunch?

J.P. Devine is a former stage and screen actor.

Copy the Story Link