SUBURBAN FURY (NYFF 2024) – Review by Margaret Barton-Fumo

Seattle based filmmaker Robinson Devor’s latest documentary, Suburban Fury offers unprecedented access to Sara Jane Moore, the former accountant and FBI informant who unsuccessfully attempted to assassinate Gerald Ford in 1975. Relying almost entirely on Moore’s personal narrative (with the addition of archival footage), Devor’s film is both historical and subjective, leaving much up to interpretation. It’s quite the task for the viewer, given that the facts of Moore’s life are often stranger than fiction.

An upper-class divorced woman with a young son, Moore became radicalized while working for the FBI as an informant, inspired in a bizarre way by the Patty Hearst kidnapping. Coming from the same social scene, she volunteered for Randolph Hearst’s charitable organization, all while hobnobbing with radical leftists and conservatives alike. Sentenced to life in prison for the assassination attempt, Moore was released after serving 32 years, which included a brief escape in 1979. Now in her 90s, she is a surprisingly lively interview subject, pushing back against the director’s questions when she feels he is straying off topic.

Devor’s filming technique is very stylized, with nods to the paranoid cinema of the 1970s. He often films Moore seated in the back of a station wagon, referencing her frequent meeting place with her FBI handler, the mysterious Bert Worthington. Fictional voiceovers by Worthington are sprinkled throughout the film, cobbled together from Moore’s memory. Devor himself voices these segments, temporarily aligning himself with the inquisitive but commanding agent. Thankfully he stops short of including dramatic reenactments, instead supplementing Moore’s interviews with archival footage. These images are copious and impressively compiled, drawn from a wide variety of sources. The montages add a lot of depth to the film, establishing a historical backdrop while informing some of Moore’s actions.

Moore’s true motivation, however, will always be vague, because she is a profoundly unusual woman. There are simply too many facets of her identity clashing within one persona. Mother, radical, informant, socialite—these are roles that do not mesh well together. Devor does his best to illuminate Moore by asking her probing questions, but he is frequently hindered by his own limitations. His decision to allow Moore’s voice to dominate the film provides some interesting narrative twists and turns while also working to obscure the ever-elusive truth. Fortunately, Devor is not overly concerned with unveiling the “truth” but rather exploring Sara Jane Moore’s various influences, along with the social and historical landscape of the time. Viewing the film through this lens is quite rewarding, and even suggests some parallels with our contemporary political climate. We may never know exactly what motivated her to raise a gun at Gerald Ford, but Devor’s film does provide some insight into her particular “suburban fury.”