Appearances can be deceptive. Michael Moore shambled onstage as if he had come to the Palladium to change a tyre on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang rather than predict the imminent demise of the Bush administration. But on a flying visit to promote his new book, Dude, Where's My Country?, the portly polemicist was as intellectually electrifying as he was sartorially scruffy.
Unlike last autumn's Roundhouse residency, which was packed with bells, whistles and set-pieces, this was Moore Downsized, reading intermittently from his bestseller and repeatedly railing against America's leader. He was also quick to upbraid Tony Blair for dragging us into Gulf War II. After all, Bush is stupid, what is Blair's excuse?
Underneath the utilitarian T-shirt beats the heart of a millionaire class warrior. Challenged about his own earnings, he admitted he had made more dough than a hyperactive baker, but says he ploughs it into raging against the corporate machine. He is currently working on a new film, Fahrenheit 911: The Temperature At Which Truth Burns.
He has a few serio-comic suggestions for domestic regime change. His ideal president is Oprah Winfrey: "She's got good politics, she's got a good heart and she'd have us all up at 6am exercising." Thank heavens he didn't suggest Vanessa Feltz as Blair's successor. Understandably, he wasn't quite up to speed on British politics. He is convinced the Tories are history, his audience was not so sure.
Some of Moore's opinions were repetitive and some answers during the closing Q&A session failed to address pertinent questions from numerous, vocal, well-bred Lefties. Islington must have been very quiet last night. But despite minimal stagecraft, Moore remains a compelling public speaker, furiously funny and charismatic. Next time he is looking for an alternative to George of Arabia, maybe he should look in the mirror.
