The film gets a little heavy handed, but it's an important message.

The shopaholic wages of sin are...the Shopocalypse!

Reverend Billy is a charismatic presence, even if his shtick is too silly and the documentary too unfocused to motivate any serious change in the nation’s holiday spending habits.

Seeing WWJB? in a theater is not necessary, although seeing him and the choir hijacking a mall in person would be better than Beowulf in IMAX.

These bits of information could have been shocking in about 1940, 1980 and 1990. But by now, Americans who don't know couldn't care less.

The good reverend and his crew do their best to get busted at assorted corporate shrines (Disneyland, the Mall of America), but their media-driven antics serve only to underline Spurlock's add-water-and-stir approach to political documentary.

Having illuminated the many dimensions in that vast universe between the flat affect of creative depression and the modish affectation of emo posing, Corbijn manages Control with elegant, understated veneration.

While the movie may be a good vehicle for Rev. Billy's points, it's too tied to his point of view.

Genuine and meaningful provocateurs like Talen are vital, and his message is a glad one to anymore who abhors the WalMart-ification of America.

And as far as sermons go, it’s a good one. You just wish the director had found someone else to deliver it.