Michael Moore has taken his tired routine to the Broadway stage. His new show “The Terms of My Surrender” is little more than an hour and a half of Moore rallying the liberal troops by bashing Trump. A boring, self congratulatory monologue to make the left feel better about itself.
But don’t take our word for it. Here’s the New York Times review:
Review: Michael Moore, Bragging on Broadway, in ‘The Terms of My Surrender’
Early in “The Terms of My Surrender,” Mr. Moore’s shaggy and self-aggrandizing Broadway showcase, a photograph blown up as large as the stage of the Belasco Theater depicts the embryonic provocateur taking his place on that board. The older members look deeply vexed to find the gawky, longhaired firebrand in their midst.
I understand their chagrin.
Don’t get me wrong: Mr. Moore has led an exemplary life of progressive activism, both in the trenches and as a filmmaker. His early movies, like “Roger & Me,” represent an impish moral intelligence at its most incisive. It helps that he chose good targets and had an ear for irony. Even before his stint on the school board, he helped torpedo the Elks’ “Caucasians only” policy by delivering a jeremiad against it in an oratory contest sponsored by … the Elks. There’s little he’s against that most theatergoers are for.
Still, you don’t have to disagree with Mr. Moore’s politics to find that his shtick has become disagreeable with age. “The Terms of My Surrender,” which opened on Thursday at the Belasco, is a bit like being stuck at Thanksgiving dinner with a garrulous, self-regarding, time-sucking uncle. Gotta love him — but maybe let’s turn on the television.
That’s a brutal review. It’s especially harsh when you consider the fact that the New York Times really wanted to love the show. This is Moore being panned by his own team.