"Unrepresented," a new documentary on the cycle of corruption in Washington, examines dysfunction in Congress but also tells the story of how long-fought dreams, such as women's suffrage and civil rights, became a reality through dogged activism that spread from state to state before forcing change at the federal level.
The film, set to premiere at film festivals this fall, includes conversations with six dozen activists, academics, lawmakers, heads of watchdog groups, and current and former federal agency officials, who dissect the structural problems embedded in the system and the work being done to fix it.
At heart, the documentary poses a central question: If we have a representative form of government, why do policies that enjoy widespread support fail to become law? What we learn are the root causes that account for millions of Americans being "unrepresented" and solutions to make our democracy work again.
The Fulcrum caught up by phone with the Detroit-based director, Daniel Falconer, to discuss his approach to the project. The conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
The Fulcrum: What message do you hope viewers will walk away with?
Daniel Falconer: Our goal is to get people to focus on structural reform rather than just candidates and to think locally whenever possible.
Reforms have happened. It's possible. And the way it tends to happen — even if there is a national law passed that changes things overnight — is usually through a concentrated effort at the state and local level as opposed to just marching to Washington, stating your case and having Congress come to their senses and change policy the next day. That just typically isn't how it happens.
A shifting of the conversation is also extremely important.
You hear a lot of calls from politicians for civility. But for us, as citizens and neighbors, it should be about trying to seek the shared ground — a willingness to lead with what you agree about and focus your efforts there. And then once all these things are fixed and we have a government that actually represents the will of the people, then we can go back to arguing about which direction it should go. But first we need to get the vessel afloat. And that's what people can do.
That's the change I can say I've definitely made. I have not gotten any legislation passed in the city I live in but I'm more active than I used to be. And I can tell you: When I'm at Thanksgiving or wherever, talking to people who I tend to end up in political conversations with, I do more than just voice my opinion about this or that issue. I talk about structural reform now.
If the film affects you, shift your political arguments. Instead, change them to discussions. Do more listening to the person who disagrees with you. If you find that they are just bitterly partisan and entrenched in their ways and not interested in talking about common ground, bring up how broken the system seems to be. Focusing on an agenda that can change the system is more important than just deciding who among those that benefit from that system we would like to have lead us.

Did anything surprise you while making the film?
The amount of consensus that I found. And the degree to which I could talk pleasantly about common sense, structure-of-government types of reform with people who I suspect have voted quite differently than I ever have or will and who might have very different social agendas than myself. That was a pleasant surprise.
Even if I like to believe in my heart that people are basically good — and that I might not be so different from someone who appears to be my adversary — I hadn't really felt it in the way that I did in the course of covering this.
Interviewing a person who I was expecting to be really adversarial — or just be partisan and try to sneak in something that promoted their side — call out the failings of their own party as loudly as anyone on the other side would, and who really just seemed to have integrity when it came to wanting a functional government, that was an encouraging experience.
Why discuss the national debt in a film about corruption in Washington?
Special interests have a grossly disproportionate influence over the system. But campaign financing is expensive. Lobbying is expensive. What do they have to gain? Why are they doing it?
The reason is they know they can get something out of it. Maybe deregulation or a subsidy via the tax code, but they want something. And why do they feel confident they'll get it? That really is guaranteed by unlimited federal debt.
There's also a functional political problem created by unlimited debt. The political will to say "no" oftentimes is simply impossible when there's unlimited money.
You have to have a more honest conversation about where our priorities lie when every dollar is actually being counted.
Could Congress reform itself or is it solely possible with local activism and changes at the state level?
It would take a real sea change. I think if we get the right kind of electoral reforms through municipalities and states, we'll be able to elect moderates again and see reform through the federal government.
But really, it first takes a declaration from states that this is where we stand, period — we're about to change the law, with or without you. Then it turns into a credibility problem. When marijuana becomes federally legal, it won't be because the federal government just woke up without any activity from the states and said, "Oh, yeah. We should do this."
It'll be because more than half of the states have decided to violate federal law, and at a certain point, they realize they have a credibility problem.
I don't pretend that reforms won't have to happen at the federal level eventually. Much like women's suffrage or civil rights, it will come down from the federal level, but it will be on the far side of a lot of concentrated state effort. That's how you're going to get their attention.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.