9/11: Behind the Scenes

After the Sept. 11 attacks, many couldn't be faulted for thinking that it was only a matter of time before Hollywood dealt with the American psyche by creating a series of Jerry Bruckheimer-style revenge fantasies. Instead (and thankfully), the reaction from major film studios has been muted (Spike Lee's introspective "25th Hour") or oblique (Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11").

But now that the question of who did it has been answered (you do agree, no?), the questions of "why?" and "how?" continue to be asked after three years of reflection and consequence. The hijackers have since been identified, demonized, and any further attempt to understand why they did what they did was met with a Coulter-esque "kill them all" – though forensic logic had always dictated we do otherwise. With so much emotion involved, it was inevitable that a more direct cinematic depiction would develop. Fortunately (and quite subversively), "The Hamburg Cell" arrives to set the tone.

"The Hamburg Cell," which has its American premiere Jan. 10 on HBO and Canadian premiere on CBC Television on Jan. 16, is a film few ever expected to see made. Making its world premiere last August at the Edinburgh Film Festival and airing in prime time shortly after on Britain's Channel 4 pre-empted much of the outcry that a well debated film might experience so close to the third anniversary of the attacks. But soon after the film aired, much of the remaining criticism from victims' groups (for not portraying more victims) and British Muslims (for the lack of positive images) had dissipated, in part due to the extraordinary effort made to keep this film tempered and accurate.

The film centers on two of the 19 hijackers, Lebanese Ziad Jarrah (succinctly played by Karim Saleh), who later crashed United Airlines Flight 93, and cell leader Egyptian Mohammad Atta (played by an Arab actor described as "Kamel", though he's been outed online). Because the two are opposing personalities – wealthy and westernized Jarrah, with a Turkish lover and no aversion to alcohol, and the awkward loner Atta, who cowers in the presence of his parents – it's difficult to see a terrorist stereotype portrayed (which could be a good or bad thing depending on your point of view). Intentionally, more questions than answers are raised and the resulting complexity lends itself to dramatic tension, though it is not merely drama for drama's sake.

Over time, Jarrah succumbs to the influence of his new friends and becomes contentious with girlfriend Aysel Senguen. "What is more important to you – jihad or marrying me?" asks Aysel. "Why would I marry a man who will be dead in two years?" Good question. Jarrah's last words to her in a phone call before he boards the Flight 93 are "I love you," but he gets onboard anyway, despite the growing tension with Atta, who deplores his double life. Atta is much more of an enigma, though Kamel plays the role with conviction.

British director Antonia Bird and screenwriters Ronan Bennett and Alice Pearman extensively researched the film to include as much historically relevant information as possible, including interviews with the Jarrah family and people who knew the hijackers in Europe and America (though they inexplicably have Atta and company prepare Swiss Army knives instead of box cutters). They also were careful to identify how much Islam to infuse in the film, which of course can't be avoided. There are the expected fiery exhortations from those that influence Atta and Jarrah and the requisite protest from members who realize where all this is going before they get kicked out of the mosques. While uncomfortable to watch, there is no way to sugarcoat what many of us know to be plausible scenarios.