One may quibble with Mr. Moore's anecdotal oversimplifications and his xenophilic fantasies, but he has struck a socio-psychic nerve in the body politic, generating a feeling of outrage that seems to be reverberating in every theater.
This is a movie to see in a theater. It'a group experience. All through the show you'll hear people laughing, crying, muttering, cheering, sighing, swearing, and gasping. And at the end, chances are they'll be on their feet applauding.
Moore has finally made a moving, whimsical, infuriating film that won't just infuriate the right-wingers who've made a cottage industry out of hating him nor sing to the liberal choir who supports even his shadiest arguments.
Sicko, an investigation and indictment of a system choking on paperwork, greed, bad policy and countervailing goals, turns out to be a fuzzy, toothless collection of anecdotes, a few stunts and a bromide-rich conclusion.
Sicko is Moore's best film: a documentary that mixes outrage, hope, and gonzo stunts in the right proportions; and that throws an unforgiving spotlight on what is, in both senses, the elephant in the room.