| Paul Greengrass's 'United 93' [10/10] |
|
|
| Sunday, 04 June 2006 | |
 A documentary-style account of events on September 11th, 2001, concentrating on the hijacked aeroplane which didn't find its "target," United 93 is the most accomplished, sobering, shatteringly intense film you will see all year. And you most certainly should see it, regardless of how much or little you know about what happened on that autumn day nearly half a decade ago, and regardless of how much or little you know or care about the political circumstances leading up to and following on from those events. Because anyone remotely interested in what cinema can do will be stunned by Greengrass's colossal achievement here: if the Best Director Oscar goes to anyone else next February the Academy can wave goodbye to whatever credibility they may retain after the Crash / Brokeback Mountain fiasco. Greengrass makes you feel that what is happening on screen is not some after-the-fact recreation, nor even a documentary compilation of footage shot on the day: we fully believe that what we're seeing is happening right this minute, so utterly are we absorbed in the immediacy of the unfolding drama (and the focus is relentlessly tight - the fact that there's no room or time for explanation or contextualisation has enraged some critics.) Greengrass has made great strides with each of his recent films: from the admirable but overrated Bloody Sunday to the cracking thriller The Bourne Supremacy to this - it'll be fascinating to see where he goes from here. United 93 really does deserve that most misused of technical terms, the crescendo - it's a perfect illustration of a piece that gradually and steadily builds in intensity to its climax. The opening scenes are low-key, quotidian, not especially interesting or involving - though every small detail becomes significant for the viewer aware of this particular aircraft's final destination. We're casually introduced to the passengers and crew on board United Airlines flight 93, heading out of Newark towards San Francisco, the focus switching occasionally to various air traffic control headquarters around the country's eastern seaboard (these scenes recall the control-room sequences in The Taking of Pelham 123.) All seems normal - until first one, then another, then a third aircraft drop out of radio contact with the ground. And then someone in one of the ATC towers in New York notices smoke billowing out of the top of the World Trade Center on the distant horizon... The script of United 93 is necessarily to a large degree speculative. But Greengrass reportedly consulted at great length with the victims' families, and had access to recordings of the telephone calls made from the flight which give a strong indication of what went on in the air. He was also able to use many real-life ATC personnel including, crucially, Ben Sliney - the Federal Aviation Authority's avuncular National Commander for whom 9/11 was the first day in his new post. Playing himself, Sliney is utterly convincing in what is effectively a recreation of his own actions and reactions: there are no 'leading roles' in this sprawling ensemble cast, but Sliney effectively anchors the film and provides a focus of level-headedness in what was clearly a spirallingly chaotic situation (he deserves an Oscar nomination at least.) Although one or two of the passengers have semi-familiar faces, there's never any sense that they are 'acting' in the usual sense: Greengrass (working with editors Clare Douglas, Richard Pearson and Christopher Rouse) has a Robert Altman-ish way of eavesdropping on fragments of conversations that has the rough-edged feel of reality, while Barry Ackroyd's (almost invariably) hand-held cinematography explores the plane and its inhabitants with a claustrophobic intimacy. Credit is also due to production designer Dominic Watkins and art directors Romek Delmata and Joanna Foley, and the special effects team led by Joss Williams whose sparing work is horrifyingly realistic. This isn't, in theory, a film crying out for an orchestral score - but John Powell's music does add to the mood, deepening our sense of foreboding without ever intruding and thus reminding us that it's "only a movie." Indeed, by the final moments audiences may find that tension has extended into every muscle in their body - a remarkable feat, considering that there can be very few viewers unaware of his this particular story concludes. Even though we know exactly what's coming, the final seconds are, without exaggeration, among the most powerful ever committed to celluloid: film may well be into its second century, but United 93 shows that, in the correct hands, the medium retains all of its ability to enthral, inspire, and astonish. Neil Young |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
