Of the many narratives that emerged from the events of September 11, 2001, it is hardly surprising that the first one to be dramatized for a major studio film is the story of United flight 93. The account of that doomed flight, to the degree to which it can be known, offers a gripping portrait of heroism in a time of unfathomable terror. In other words, it is a tale ripe for the silver screen.
Still, given the political consequences of the 9-11 terrorist attacks, it is also a story that in certain hands lends itself to themes of jingoism and vengeance, subjects that Hollywood does not have a reputation for handling with nuance. Fortunately, Paul Greengrass, the British director of United 93, is much more interested in depicting the on-the-ground realities of that horrible day than in producing a highly stylized political film. Knowing that the audience has all the omniscience it needs to understand this story and its outcome, Greengrass frames the events from the perspective of the flight passengers and air-traffic controllers who were in the unenviable position of determining how to respond to the hijackings the moment they occurred. The result is the most powerful film of the year so far -- a taut, harrowing, and utterly believable minute-by-minute recreation of the chaos and dread that permeated airplane cabins and control centers on the morning of September 11th.
Greengrass, who also directed the superb Bloody Sunday about the 1972 Irish protest massacre, is a former documentarian who excels at capturing the everyday noise of human life that filters into extraordinary events, and he uses his skills to full effect in United 93. The film's plot initially unfolds by emphasizing the ordinary beginnings of the day -- we watch passengers at Newark airport (where United 93 took off for San Francisco) go through security checkpoints, see the start of the day at FAA control centers (many FAA employees play themselves), and observe flight attendants and pilots prepare the plane for takeoff. Much of the first three quarters of the film shifts between the routine activities on the plane and the increasingly panicked discussions in the FAA's offices, where the earliest sign of impending doom is the loss of contact with American Airlines flight 11, the first plane to crash into the towers. Some of the movie's most suspenseful moments consist of nothing more than hearing flight controllers try to contact the hijacked planes and then offering various conjectures for why no one is responding. The idea of a hijacking seems so dated, so last century, that no one at the FAA can fully accept the reality of the situation until CNN broadcasts one of the planes crashing into the World Trade Center.
More vividly than newspaper accounts or the 9/11 Commission Report, United 93 effectively captures the ensuing chaos and, more than anything else, the lack of vital communication between the FAA, the airlines, the military, and the White House that could have possibly produced a quicker response than what transpired. It is worth noting that these scenes are not meant to make a political point, but to underscore how unprepared any of the people on the ground or in the planes were for the type of threat they were faced with. Still, there is an obvious lesson to be learned here -- after all, United 93 did not take off a until after the FAA lost contact with the first plane, and Greengrass makes a point of shifting back and forth between the airplane cabin and the control centers to further highlight the failure of communication.
As for the specific plight of United flight 93, the last fourth of the film focuses entirely on the passengers' last minutes in the air. The film does an impressive job of providing enough insight into to each of the passengers without over-dramatizing anyone in particular. Greengrass has made the wise choice to emphasize the group's humanity rather than elevating their heroism -- even Todd Beamer's now famous statement, “Let's roll,” is spoken as a subdued expression of impatience rather than the stirring rallying cry it has often been interpreted as. Further contributing to the sense that these passengers were merely everyday people in the wrong place at the wrong time is the cast of unknowns and non-actors who excellently capture the fear and bewilderment that follow the terrorists' takeover of the cockpit.
It is these last few minutes of the film that will be particularly harrowing for audience members who were traumatized by the events of 9-11, for United 93 pulls no punches in its portrayal of the tortured phone calls to loved ones and the agonizing decision to confront the attackers head-on. As depicted in United 93, the passengers' eventual decision to retaliate is less an act of valor than a desperate attempt for survival, the only action that might prevent their imminent death. The elemental nature of their response and their awareness of its possible consequences are what make the final reel of the film so affecting -- the recognition that a seemingly unremarkable group of people can be driven to remarkable acts of bravery without even realizing it.
It is fair to ask: Does United 93 offer much more than a stirring recreation of real events? Not really. It provides little in the way of enlightening commentary about the reasons for the attacks or why the events of September 11th occurred in the manner they did. But as the first piece of mainstream art to directly address the events of that day, the film feels appropriately reverent and focused. The coming years will see many more artistic interpretations of what happened and why and, in many ways, United 93 seems like the suitable starting point on which future endeavors can build. At the very least, it provides a little more understanding into events that may always seem incomprehensible.
Sudhir Muralidhar is a writer living in New York.
