Actor Patrick Warburton describes Sara Jane Moore, the would-be assassin of former President Gerald Ford, as “seemingly not remorseful,” a sentiment that lingers throughout the recently unveiled documentary “Suburban Fury.” It compels viewers to grapple with the complexities of a woman who once stood at the precipice of a historic crime.
This documentary made its debut at the New York Film Festival, offering an unflinching look at the life of Moore, who has journeyed from incarceration to relative obscurity. It chronicles the harrowing facts that led to her thwarted assassination attempt on Ford in 1975.
On a fateful day, September 22, 1975, Moore fired two shots at President Ford just outside the Saint Francis Hotel in San Francisco. This incident marked her as the second assassin to target the Republican leader within a single month.
Earlier that month, Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme, a devoted follower of Charles Manson, had made her own attempt on Ford’s life with a semi-automatic .45-caliber pistol. Fromme was sentenced to life in prison but was released on parole in August 2009, a curious twist in a tale where motives intertwine with madness.
Robinson Devor, noted for films like “Zoo” and “The Woman Chaser,” has worked alongside Warburton to transform Moore’s story into a visual narrative. Warburton highlights that the documentary took more than fifteen years to create, reflecting the enduring fascination with extreme political actions.
Warburton notes the documentary’s release, occurring less than a month after a recent assassination attempt against former President Donald Trump, raises significant questions about the climate of political unrest in America. “The timing may seem interesting,” he observes, “but the lingering implications of thrillers like this extend beyond the present day.”
“Whether assassination attempts are in the spotlight or not, moments like these are deeply woven into the fabric of our nation,” Warburton reflects. The weight of history reveals itself, as every attempt brings forth echoes of the past, stretching back to the assassination of Abraham Lincoln on April 14, 1865, the first to shake the nation to its core.
Warburton emphasizes that it is ultimately up to the viewers of “Suburban Fury” to interpret Moore’s psychological landscape—her rationale or potential narcissism—through a lens of empathy or scrutiny.
“I think people who are truly troubled can be remarkably deceptive,” Warburton explains. The portrayal of sanity in the documentary challenges the audience’s understanding of normalcy.
Moore’s life took an unexpected turn in 1979 when she, alongside another inmate, climbed a twelve-foot prison fence shortly after beginning her sentence. Although recaptured shortly after her escape, her defiance adds another layer to her complex character. Later, in 2019, she faced legal issues once again, this time for breaching parole requirements.
“On the surface, she appeared perfectly fine,” he muses, as if encapsulating the duality of human nature—capable of both remarkable achievements and profound failures. Warburton paints Moore as a puzzling figure who, after once working as an FBI informant, drifted into radicalism without apparent regret for her actions.
As “Suburban Fury” unfolds over its hour and fifty-five minutes, it combines archival footage with contemporary storytelling that compels viewers to reflect on Moore’s choices and state of mind. Warburton asserts, “This film is worthy of every moment of your attention.” By the end, viewers may sense a deep sadness, a profound loss, in the life of a woman who stood against societal norms.
Viewers are left pondering the truth amidst Moore’s retelling. Warburton challenges audiences to decipher the multitude of perspectives presented—what resonates as genuine and what feels like elaborate fabrication. “There’s so much to piece together,” he explains, evoking the sense of a jigsaw puzzle left incomplete.
As a newcomer to Moore’s history, Warburton was drawn to the film’s artistic vision and the dynamic storytelling approach of Robinson Devor. “Rob doesn’t request much for a budget,” he remarks, recognizing the power of creativity even in constraints. With a mere budget of $500,000, Devor crafts a narrative that lingers and evokes contemplation long after the credits roll.
