My grandma once told me a story about her cousin in East Texas. He only got to go to town once a year, and this particular year there was a man selling oranges at a fruit stand: 50 cents apiece. The cousin took two, spending all the money he came with, and on his way home contentedly bit into one. It was sweet, delicious, exactly as he expected. He then bit into the other. It was sour, and a strange pink color on the inside. The merchant had given him a grapefruit and an orange.

That's how these two movies struck me; they were similar enough to see they were citrus, but tasted completely different once you bit into them. Both Strong Clear Vision and Fog are meant to inform the audience -one about the architect behind the 'Nam Memorial and the other about the architect behind the 'Nam War- and both succeed. Where the difference comes in is that while SCV presents its facts in an impartial way (I guess you could argue it was pro-Maya Lin or pro-original design, but there's not a whole lot of debate as to whether Maya or her monument are "good"), Fog presents them in such a way that it makes the audience question the truth behind McNamara's statements.

SCV, as Ron pointed out, uses many long, uninterrupted shots. Much like in writing, long shots by a director usually try to present a lot of information (as opposed to short cuts/sentences that make a point), and Mock uses them to let the audience soak up as much detail as they can. There doesn't seem to be a duplicitous agenda, just a legitimate desire to inform the audience about the Memorial and how it came to be (the latter half of the movie also deals with other pieces Maya Lin has done, but I won't go into those here).

The long cuts also serve a second purpose: they are a video reflection of Maya's artistic style. The mirroring of her long, natural lines by the camera's long pan shots draws the audience closer to Maya and her works and evokes empathy when she faces opposition. These long cuts make us part of the artistic experience, so when it is threatened by a mustachioed vet we too feel threatened. It makes us actively engaged in a rather passive movie. Mock doesn't use many rhetorical devices, but when she does they're subtly felt by the audience.

In Fog, on the other hand, Morris is very overt with his rhetorical stylings. His short, disorienting cuts and angles make the audience uneasy about trusting anything that has been said. He makes us want to believe McNamara through tearful confessionals, candid moments, and looking down the barrel of the camera, but simultaneously questions those very sentiments with a skewed camera angle. Morris doesn't try to say "all this is true/false" (perpendicular lines in the background during the interview), but rather "this is what he says is true, I'm just reporting it" (slanted nature of aforementioned perpendicular lines). He stays away from the heavier handed tactics that flooded H&M, and comes out looking more honest and forthcoming because of it. We trust Morris because he doesn't say something is clear cut black or white, even if we don't trust what his subject is saying.

As much as Fog treats the trust of its subject differently than SCV, they do share a similarity in how they are structured around said subject (after all, the introductory anecdote talked about grapefruits and oranges, not apples and oranges). Much like SCV's long cuts mirrored Maya's artistic stylings and drew the audience closer because of it, Fog's numbered parts (1-11) reflect McNamara's strong analytical thinking and makes us part of said rationale. Instead of creating empathy, as SCV does, this structuring instead reinforces the aforementioned feeling of the truth being twisted in some way. While we're inclined to trust McNamara because he's a primary source, we're also wary of said trust because all of his anecdotes and digressions are artificially arranged to support these 11 points. It forces us to delve deeper into the film so that we can try to figure out who we can trust (something I still haven't figured out).