Provocative filmmaker Michael Moore certainly has fun with his activist styled documentaries. Those who have seen Moore's breakthrough take on his hometown Flint autoworkers in Roger and Me and/or his scathing attack against downsizing corporations in The Big One are familiar with his personal meandering style, off the wall humorous juxtapositions, and relentless pursuit of corporate wrongdoers despite the media roadblocks. Bowling for Columbine stylistically fits into this same unmistakable mold and is Moore's strongest documentary to date.

The 2002 Cannes Anniversary Prize winner journalistically explores the nature of gun violence in America in much greater depth than you'd expect, asking far more questions about the complex problem without offering a cure-all. This should be required viewing for all lawmakers, who think they have the definitive solution.

Those who think that Moore must be biased against traditional conservative values may be surprised to find that Moore is a lifetime member of the NRA and, like many Michigan citizens, has been around hunting and guns for years. He also never brings up the issue of gun control. That doesn't prevent him from seeing the humorous irony of a Michigan bank that offers a free rifle to clients who open up a prescribed account; that should have Bonnie and Clyde bullet ridden bones convulsing in their coffins. And Moore's exuberant emergence from the bank with rifle triumphantly raised isn't even the funniest moment. I won't even try to describe those absurdly hilarious scenes that had me laughing more than any other film I've seen this year, for fear of spoiling a moment. (And I wasn't alone—a theater full was joining in the giggle fest)

Humor aside, Moore tackles a very serious subject. The film takes its title from the revelation that the infamous Columbine killers, Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, attended their early morning bowling class before bloodying their high school with their assault rifles. With all the theories proposed by politicians, preachers, and media pundits about the cause for the bloody carnage, Moore asks why not blame bowling since this is the last activity the pair did before laying waste to twelve of their classmates. Don't think that the glibness of the title trivializes the issue; it not so subtly pokes fun of the many who think they have the answer for gun control issues.

Whether you agree with Moore is irrelevant this time. The general thrust of his emphasis cannot be denied and is certainly worth examining in greater detail. Take an objective look other countries regarded as having a violent historical bent like Germany and Japan, and the U.S. surpasses their murder rates twenty times over, so why is the U.S. so susceptible to gun violence? Moore offers a complex combination of theories: a culture of fear inflamed by racial paranoia and media hype; historical emphasis on war mongering; widespread availability of firearms.

Moore does take on an activist stance after meeting two Columbine shooting victims who are crippled for life and still host some of the K-Mart purchased bullets. He flies the students to K-Mart corporate headquarters in Troy, Michigan to demand that they take their handgun and assault rifle ammunition off their shelves, bringing the national media into play. Realizing their tenuous position, K-Mart graciously caves, and a small victory is obtained. (Moore doesn't discuss the subsequent Chapter 11 filing that the corporate giant underwent, but K-Mart didn't go under for lack of selling ammunition.)

The greatest strengths of Bowling for Columbine come from Moore's exploration for answers. Coming from a long time hunting tradition, Canadians have more guns per capita than Americans, yet their murder rate with firearms is miniscule—and Canadians don't even lock their doors! Floored by this revelation, Moore tests the theory out with camera in tow, and sure enough...Canadians think it's crazy to lock the door, like you don't trust your neighbors and want to trap yourself inside your house. Why the different mentality from our northern neighbors? Besides a number of interviews with Canadians, Moore includes television news clips from both American and Canadian shows that give clues.

Remember when Marilyn Manson was cited for being the cause of the Columbine tragedy? Since Klebold and Harris were weirdoes that listened to the shock rocker, pundits were convinced that his music inspired violence—he cancelled performances immediately after the tragedy out of respect. Two years later, Manson prepares for a Denver appearance while predictable protests from right wing Christian groups demand banning the musician. Moore decides to interview him, and Manson gives the most eloquent observations of the entire film with surprising (to his non-fans) sensitivity. Noting that President Clinton began the most brutal bombings of Korsovo on the same April morning of the Columbine tragedy, Manson questions whether he has more influence over young people than the President.

Contrasting with Manson's intelligent discussion of the issue is the sad sequence with NRA president Charton Heston. Moore's ubiquitous camera includes the first encounter at the famous actor's home—with Moore bending over the small box and listening to the voice like it is coming from the Burning Bush. An interview is granted the following morning, and the camera follows Moore through the opening gate (reminiscent of the Red Sea parting) as he greets Heston and settles into a chair with a Ben Hur painting within the frame. Unfortunately, Heston is lost without a script to follow and can only utter banalities when asked why the U.S. has such violent gun culture. When pressed, the legendary actor can only clinch his jaw and silently amble out of frame and out of earshot.

Conservatives will likely be ticked off that Moore doesn't seek a more powerful debater than Heston, which makes the documentary come across as one sided. However, the NRA has chosen him as their official spokesperson for some inexplicable reason (his presidency may soon end after this film). Other instances will infuriate right wingers, like Moore's archive footage inclusion of ill-advised C.I.A. involvement with Iran contras, Saddam Hussein, and Osama Bin-Laden, but Moore implicates both Bush and Clinton. That brief montage stands as one of the weakest moments in the film, revealing nothing that moderates and leftists have long been aware of. Moore is at his best when disarming the unsuspecting with spontaneous humor during his investigative reporting rather than mounting the pulpit to preach to the choir.

Bowling for Columbine isn't technically perfect—a washed out cinematic moment before entering the K-Mart serves only to show that the camera is following the subjects in cinema verite style, and Moore does tend to wander off on various tangents. But whether you love Michael Moore or hate him, this film is well worth watching for both its entertainment and educational value. Especially fascinating is the exploration of the American psyche of fear. Something is clearly wrong with a system that produces the overwhelmingly high gun violence that the U.S. does, and Moore's documentary asks the right questions to jump-start serious dialogue.