World Trade Center

I think it goes without saying that anyone who's alive now will never forget where they were on September 11, 2001. Me, I was working on Connecticut Avenue in DC, just across from the Mayflower Hotel, and I can distinctly remember the first news I heard about the attacks of that day. I was listening to Debussy on my work computer, gazing down at a report I was editing in hard copy, drinking a cup of our nasty office coffee, when Aisha, our IT person, walked into the office next to mine and said, "Did you hear? Two planes crashed into the World Trade Center!" Truth be told, when I first heard this bit of news, I wasn't entirely surprised. I thought, with both buildings a quarter of a mile tall, something odd like that was bound to happen. I didn't think of a jetliner at first, either, but rather something smaller—and at worst, just leaving a scar on the building. But what struck me as odd was that it was two planes, because that didn't make sense to me. I mean, it's not like two piper cups can drag-race over Manhattan, right?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, around 10:30 everyone was told to go home, that the office was closing down for the day, and I ended up walking out of DC via Georgetown and the Key Bridge, walking to my friend Brian's apartment near Courthouse Metro in Arlington. There the two of us spent much of the day glued to the TV, watching CNN replay the videos of the Twin Towers collapsing, and I made a lot of calls to various family members and friends to tell them that I was okay—and all the time I was wondering, "What the hell is happening???"

I don't think I'll ever forget walking down M Street through Georgetown that day, or across the Key Bridge and seeing the sight of black smoke billowing up from the Pentagon, only a half-mile south of me—or the sight of the charred Pentagon from 395 the next morning. Just like those bumper stickers that say, "Never forget 9/11", I won't forget. I'll never be able to; they're images that are forever burned into my subconscious.

I knew it would only be a matter of time before 9/11 became a big-screen topic, and the first of the 9/11 movies came out earlier in 2006, with Paul Greengrass's United 93. And not long after that came Oliver Stone's World Trade Center. I'll confess, when I first learned that movies were being made about that day, I was undecided about how to feel. I honestly didn't think it was too soon, but I was nervous that it wouldn't be handled with the proper delicacy and respect, because even though I didn't think it was too soon, it was still fresh. And to say that Oliver Stone has a controversial reputation would be the understatement of the year. So any misgivings anyone had about Stone directing a 9/11 movie were understandable, and when I finally sat down to watch World Trade Center, I paid very close attention, hoping that America's darkest hour wouldn't be glamorized or politicized in typical Hollywood fashion.

The film doesn't so much open as it does awaken, for the opening shot is of John McLoughlin, a Port Authority Police Officer played by Nicholas Cage, waking up just before his alarm clock goes off at 3:30 a.m., then walking through his house and checking in on his children before going to work. Following that, we have a similar pre-dawn shot of Will Jimeno, played by Michael Peña, also a Port Authority Police Officer who's leaving for work.

Much like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, there's no dialogue for the first 7 or 8 minutes of the film. Instead, we're treated to some very pretty shots of a new day slowly beginning, people making their way into work like they would any other day. Because it was just a normal day, with people going in to work like usual. Riding the subway, riding the bus, riding the ferry, driving their cars . . . it was just a normal day.

Until Will Jimeno looks up and catches the shadow of an airliner silhouetted against a skyscraper.

When the first plane hits in the movie, we're presumably inside the World Trade Center, with two workers conversing over the water cooler—and then suddenly the building begins to shake. And during this scene, I noticed something very clever. On 9/11, the first plane hit the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. In the movie, the plane hits at exactly 8 minutes and 46 seconds into the movie! Clever editing work here, I must admit! But clever editing aside, Oliver Stone didn't do a thing cinematically to bring tension to the moments before and after the attacks; he didn't need to! For I as the viewer had the benefit of hindsight . . . and I knew exactly what to expect, though I didn't quite know what form it would take on screen. That's where the tension was born for me—anticipating the next moment in the attack. And I have to say, it was damn near unbearable.

The shots of the burning towers were very real, I must say! (And frankly, I'd love to know where Stone got them, because while I get the feeling they were recreated—both inside and outside the Trade Center—they were right on the mark!) But in portraying the attacks as they unfolded, Stone caught one very vital element of 9/11 that didn't even occur to me in hindsight: the confusion. The utter inability to register, or even come close to understanding, what was happening that day. Because as Nick Cage said in the drive over to the towers, "There is no plan." From the perspective of five years after the fact, it's easy to lose sight of the fact that what happened that day was miles beyond our comprehension. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and when everyone is staring up at the burning towers in absolute astonishment . . . it's genuine, and for me it brought back a lot of that same confusion and fear from that day. Kudos to Stone for his authenticity!

One scene that really hit me hard (and twisted my stomach) was when McLoughlin and crew are changing into the fire equipment, and you hear what sounds like doors slamming or guns going off . . . it took me a few minutes to realize that it was the sound of people jumping.

As I said earlier, knowing the precise timeline of 9/11 damn near made it unbearable to watch the attacks unfold . . . because I knew exactly what was going to happen next, I knew when it was going to happen, and I knew it was about to happen to the people on the screen. When another officer joins McLoughlin and his crew on the concourse and says the Pentagon's been hit, I knew we were drawing close to the moment of the first tower's collapse. (And just like in a horror movie, the inclination to shout, "Run!" to the main character on the screen was strong.) And right on cue, when McLoughlin asks on his radio what the problem is with Tower 2, that's when the enormous rumble begins to come at them from all sides . . . and gradually the look of horrified realization lands on each and every face there, and they all run for cover as the concourse starts to implode all around them.

As the first tower collapsed, I was actually surprised to see them cut away to blackness right away, as the slowly waking eyes of Nicholas Cage are brought up close in the darkness as he wakes up beneath the rubble. Oddly enough, when he wakes up, I thought, “Okay, the worst is over now.” Meaning, by this time I had presumed that both towers had collapsed, so the second enormous rumble caught me completely by surprise; apparently they awoke just minutes before the second tower collapsed, and the second collapsing took out another member of their crew who had also survived the first collapse, leaving only McLoughlin and Jimeno there in the rubble, isolated beneath so many tons of shattered concrete.

For once I actually thought Nick Cage did some great acting. The scenes of him and Michael Peña buried underneath the rubble were heartbreaking and gut-wrenching, for both were men who were faced with the very real possibility of their death, and thus were reflecting back on each of their lives and admitting their regrets to one another, somehow trying to stay alive for the sake of each other. As they so often told each other, "Don't fall asleep. You may not wake up. The pain keeps you alive." The camerawork caught such stunning close-ups of their faces, where their fear and panic were so visible that you could damn near taste it yourself.

Watching it from the perspective of two rescue workers buried underneath the rubble was very eye-opening. Having only seen 9/11 from the outermost perspective, i.e., watching the shots of the towers collapsing and not of anyone individually suffering a loss, you gain a new perspective on the event. And seeing how all their families cope as they wrestle with the terrible uncertainty of their fate really brings it home, because as the second half of the film progresses, we see how Donna McLoughlin (Maria Bello) and a very pregnant Allison Jimeno (Maggie Gyllenhaal) try to cope with not knowing whether their husbands made it out alive.

Enter into the fold the young character of Sgt. Karnes, a Marine who's determined to go down to Ground Zero and search for survivors. And ultimately it is he who locates McLoughlin and Jimeno. I don't think it's any secret that McLoughlin and Jimeno are rescued from the rubble—though it occurred much earlier in the movie than I expected! Jimeno gets pulled out first (and I almost did a double-take when he said, "Where are the buildings?"), and McLoughlin emerges several hours later (chronologically-speaking, that is). After this, we had about half an hour left in the movie! Thankfully it was a meaningful half hour, as both men are reunited with their families . . . and we even see the grief felt by other families. One scene that struck me as powerful was when Donna McLoughlin is at the hospital awaiting word on her husband, and she meets another woman at the coffee machine who's waiting for word on her son. Her reflection about the last moment she had with her son, when they fought, haunts her . . . because now she doesn't even know if her son is alive or dead, and she begins to break down and cry, because she knows the anger she felt towards him is pointless now, and as she says to Donna, she just wants to hold him again, because he was such a good boy . . .

What struck me about this scene was the second important realization that was born from this day: that human life is fragile and precious, and that we shouldn't take a single moment of it for granted. In the helter-skelter of our daily lives, we so often forget that one fact.

Like the ending of Schindler's List, the final moments of World Trade Center brought it all home for me, and made me remember that this wasn't a movie per se—this had actually happened in real life, to real people. Even though it may have been dramatized, the event and the story herein were still very real. And the Schindler's List moment I speak of is just before the final credits rolled, when the final epilogue lines summarize where John and Will are now, and how many died that day . . . they actually list all the Port Authority officers who died at the World Trade Center, and in the back of my mind I could see the living Schindler Jews walking past his gravestone with their respective actors.

In the final analysis, Oliver Stone delivered what I didn’t think was possible: a heroic survival tale about two people who survived the worst of 9/11, without any of Stone's customary politics, without any of his trademark conspiracy theories. What he gave us was simply an inspiring and moving tale of hope and survival through America's darkest hour. 9 out of 10.