Timing is
everything; “World Trade Center,” Oliver Stone’s end-of-summer film about two
firefighters who survived 9/ll, arrived here at the wrong time. If you’re
heat-weary and bombarded by too much news of the terrorist plot to blow up
transatlantic aircraft, you should opt for something less demanding. You’ll
leave the theatre emotionally wrung-out and sapped from the experience.
In viewing this film, we bring our own personal nightmares of that day to bear.
Uncomfortable and unrelenting, the memories will come flooding back. The movie’s
power comes from a place beyond its art. It exploits the emotional connections
we bring, a fact that underscores why many people faulted Oliver Stone for making
this movie too soon. It’s not an artful film, and at times, it’s downright
tedious. We come away more vulnerable, reminded of the fragility of our way of
life, not because of the film, but because of ourselves.
“World Trade Center” needed a title that better describes the circumstances of
the movie’s focus: the two firefighters John McLoughlin (Nicholas Cage) and
William J. Jimeno (Michael Peņa). Only twenty people were pulled alive from the
rubble that day, McLoughlin and Jimeno being two of them. The movie turns quickly
from the initial shock of the attacks to the situation surrounding these two
firefighters as the tower comes crashing down around them.
Surprised to find themselves alive in the aftermath of the building’s collapse,
McLoughlin and Jimeno have only their faith and each other to thank for their
survival in hell. Both men are almost completely encased in the rubble. Jimeno
finds that by straining, he can move one arm and bang a pipe against the metal
above his head. McLoughlin calls “may day” into his service radio that no one
answers. Hours pass and the heat becomes unbearable, yet they don’t give up hope.
Stone makes use of frequent flashbacks of the men’s pasts, as well as scenes of
their families’ painful wait. As a technique for establishing McLoughlin’s and
Jimeno’s background and human qualities beyond their lives as firefighters, it
fails to provide information with much depth. Families locked in grief, a child
too young to understand, friends who underestimate the shock – all situations
presented in a way that comes perilously close to trivializing the impact.
As an historical touchstone, this movie will be screened years from now, and for
some future audiences, it may be the first cinematic version of 9/ll that they
encounter. They might be better served by archival footage of the real thing.
Oliver Stone does manage to put aside his political agenda to tell McLoughlin’s
and Jimeno’s survival story for future generations.
But I, Mr. Stone,
still feel a little exploited.
Rated PG-13 for intense and emotional content, some
disturbing images and language.
Rated R for strong violence,
pervasive language and some sexual
content
