As director, Siskel (nephew of the late film critic Gene Siskel) is so single-mindedly intent on getting Powell to express a level of contrition or regret—one that he either doesn’t feel or won’t admit—that the back half of his film becomes a misguided scolding. Siskel’s unspoken “Say you’re sorry!” lingers over the majority of the final act, weighing the proceedings down so much that Powell is eventually forced to call it out himself, accusing the director of trying to coerce him into saying something he’s not saying. Powell’s right, and the last section of the movie recalls the scene in Bowling For Columbine (which Siskel produced) where Michael Moore shames an aged and ailing Charlton Heston, only with even less motive, as Powell has already given the director most of what he wants. (He’s given the world that, too: The author published an op-ed in The Guardian in 2013 denouncing The Anarchist Cookbook.)
A.V. Club, ” American Anarchist cooks up an unsavory recipe for scolding an interview subject”
