United 93

"YAY"

Sunday evening. Two days after its release. 5 years, 6 months, and some odd days after the real events took place. The destruction of what is now referred to as, "the worst terrorist attacks on American soil" now brought onto the big screen and there I was, sitting in a movie theatre and for the first time I hoped NOT to be entertained.

The very beginning had a tremendous impact on me. Having seen what it may have been like to be one of the "terrorists," sitting on a hotel bed in a country foreign to him, reading, mumbling a prayer to himself of what was yet to come...He did not look vicious. Just average. Maybe confused, hesitant, and almost lost like a little boy with no place to go in a land he could not call home. The story reflected back on a time that I almost forgot. A moment that no one was prepared for to say the least. And it was portrayed as if there was nothing more to tell than what was happening right before our eyes.

People. Using their cell phones. Logging into their lap tops. Drinking their cups of coffee. Going about their daily routines. Passengers ready for boarding. Planning their agendas. People with a job to do. Pilots and flight attendants reeling in their luggage, getting ready for their next trip. Clocking in, starting the morning without a care in the world. Planning for a tomorrow that will never come.

We see so many points of view that we get dizzy trying not to lose track. The camera veers from one direction to the next. Whether it be at the Air Traffic Control Towers watching as each plane they lose contact with disappear on their radars. Or the management team, shuffling through papers, awaiting for a liason, preparing for their next course of action. Or the military commanders, on and off the phones, frantically trying to get permission to engage an attack without worrying their counterparts. And then we bare witness to the loved ones, helpless, floating in mid-air, making their calls to their husbands, wives, moms, dads, children, and saying their final farewells. The stuartist, calm and collect at first, now in a state of panic promising to quit the next day.

I felt numb. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck. I shifted my weight to avoid passing out. Closed my eyes at times when there was so much to take in and just the mere thought of having been in their place, the thought of what must have been going on in their heads. What would I have been thinking of if I knew I would never touch the ground again? It became too exhausting that I had to blink just to regain enough energy to keep watching.

People around me were at the edge of their seats. Covering their mouths in shock. I started focusing on their reactions. Their gasps when someone would get stabbed. Shaking their heads when the passengers were trying to sneak a phonecall. Their emotional highs and lows even though we knew the inevitable was about to happen. I clenched my fists at the very end, as if by doing so I could hold the plane up and change its ending.

The importance of communication can be seen throughout this film.

Between the manager to his team, the military commander to his subordinates, the liason to a room full of unpredictable circumstance. But the most powerful of all was between the young men waiting to take over the plane. The anxious, taking deep breaths pressed against his seat, with a "bomb" strapped around his waist. The eager pacing back and forth unable to sit still. The merciless, a red bandana around his forehead, blood on his wifebeater willing to stab anything in sight. And the hesitant, who we saw pray, who we hear say, "I love you" to another we never get to meet right before boarding. They had a specific target taped on the steering wheel, yet it was the ONLY one who seemed doubtful who was assigned to fly towards it.

What I admire in the director is that he did not go into heavy detail about anything. He showed the side of it as if we still know nothing. No extreme political standpoint was illustrated nor was there any specific story told. It was generalized using unfamiliar actors/actresses. Revealing all its imperfections. But that is how the real world works. Everyone moving at the speed of light and it is not until a catastrophe happens that we have time to even look at each other. To pause and appreciate that we have this time and to acknowledge that nothing lasts forever.

So what is the point if any? Simple. Communication. With it or lack thereof can cause life-altering consequences.