Michael Moore still believes. It is true that his last film, Fahrenheit 9/11, did not achieve its primary mission -- to keep President George W. Bush from being re-elected -- when it was released in 2004, even though it became the highest-grossing documentary of all time, earning $222 million around the world.

But the way Moore spins it, Fahrenheit 9/11 succeeded anyway.

''It did make a difference, because now 70 percent of the country is against the war and doesn't support Bush,'' Moore says. 'The miscalculation was that people would turn around in four months and change their votes, and that was never to be. When it comes to politics, you could say we live in a nation of slow learners. But if someone had told you in November of '04, `Two years from now, 33 Republicans are going to lose their seats and Democrats will take control of not just the House but also the Senate,' you would have thought they were crazy.''

Regardless of whether Fahrenheit 9/11 had anything to do with recent political swayings, the point is that Moore believes his film played a part in it. And no matter what one might make of his newest movie, Sicko, which opens Friday, it's hard to argue the film is a work of passionate optimism -- a heartfelt, infuriating and often very funny piece of skillful agitprop from one of contemporary cinema's most prevalent provocateurs.

With a less confrontational approach than Moore has used in the past -- no on-camera ambushes, no scenes in which overpaid CEOs squirm uncomfortably as they try to dodge impossible questions and (almost) no political demagoguery -- Sicko makes an eloquent argument against the state of health care in America, recounts the history of HMOs in the United States and uses other countries -- including Canada, Great Britain, France and, most problematically, Cuba -- to argue that there is a viable alternative within our reach.

A NEW DIRECTION

Moore admits that the kinder, gentler tone of Sicko was intentional -- a way to get past the knee-jerk reaction the mere mention of his name provokes in many people. Despite his commercial success and respect within the industry, Moore is perfectly aware of what a polarizing figure he cuts even within the liberal-friendly domain of Hollywood (he was practically booed off the stage during the 2003 Academy Awards telecast when he launched into an anti-Bush tirade while accepting his Best Documentary Oscar for Bowling for Columbine).

Those strong love-hate opinions -- combined with the size of the audiences that see his films -- are a testament Moore is doing something right. But although Moore has proven to be exceptionally savvy at manipulating the media-hype machinery at just the right moments, he says he didn't want Sicko to become fodder for another cultural us-vs.-them debate.

``I gave a lot of thought after Fahrenheit 9/11 about making a movie that would not only inspire the liberal base, but also reach out across the great divide to those on the other side of the political fence and say -- at least to some of them -- `Can't we find some common ground?'

'I could have made a movie about education or day care -- any number of things. But I chose health care because everyone gets sick and needs to see the doctor. And I want to ask my fellow Americans `Why do we want to punish those who have it the hardest?' Perhaps in some way Sicko is my most subversive and dangerous film, because it suggests that I and my fellow Americans who are more conservative than I am can actually come together on something.''