This vérité documentary by D. A. Pennebaker collaborators captures comedian/political gadfly Al Franken as he makes the transition from "what I used to do to what I do now... and I can't exactly define what they are." Exactly. Franken was a comedy writer who lucked into being a comedy performer on TV. Excellent. Then he wrote two books that nailed a lot of right-wing douchebags to the wall. Double excellent. Then he went on some book tours and learned that the kind of lefties who buy books like Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them were and are starved for charismatic leadership. Still pretty excellent. Then, he reasoned, in the absence of such leadership, a TV writer/performer who writes books might just do the trick. Umm... maybe not so excellent?

God Spoke sees the birth of self-importance in Franken, mingled with the rise of genuine concern and conviction. His joke about being called by God to shame the right wing might not have been such a joke after all. You see him begin to believe not only that the people he's gunning for deserve to be taken down—which they obviously do—but that he's the man for the job. That isn't a sin, and Franken's recent campaign announcement for the Minnesota senate bodes well for his sincerity and brains—but goddamn if it doesn't make for a cloying, obnoxious documentary subject.

He founds Air America, a refreshing idea for an all-liberal radio network to counter the overwhelming right-wingness of the radio dial that was nonetheless born moribund. You see the coltish first steps of Franken as broadcaster, the nervous boardroom conversations about "monetizing" the network, and the gradual queasiness that overtakes the entire enterprise when it becomes clear that people aren't listening.

Early on, he's surrounded by a liberal gaggle so eager to believe in anyone that they laugh at every stupid thing he says. He plays to this easy crowd and before long he's the only one laughing. Never is this more apparent than during the Newsweek party scene at the 2004 Republican National Convention, crawling with members of the opposite party, "but don't worry," Franken says, sincerely. "I'm charming them all." Cut to: a room full of millionaires squirming with mounting discomfort at the Jew splashing around the WASP punchbowl, slapping backs and laughing at his own jokes.

Shouting at the TV, hectoring his audiences, fighting for spotlight time with Michael Medved, Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter, and their misbegotten like—Franken grows increasingly shrill and humorless as his passion not only for his cause but for his calling grows. By the time he does witless comedy "for the troops" in Iraq, it's almost impossible to keep watching.

Al Franken obviously means what he says. He loves his wife, he loved his dad, and he loves democracy. He's a funny guy who cried (onscreen) when Kerry lost. I hope he makes a great U.S. senator. I also hope I never have to hear him laugh again.