Only history will tell if Hollywood has accurately recounted the harrowing events of September 11, 2001. Oliver Stone's World Trade Center, and the recent United 93, are the first two major studio forays on the subject. Despite differing opinions on whether such films are necessary yet, each film gives us an important snapshot of that fateful day. In World Trade Center, Screenwriter Andrea Berloff and Stone take the high road by refusing to politically grandstand or resort to cliched flag-waving. Instead, they weave a powerful tale of courage and redemption in the face of evil.

World Trade Center focuses on the story of two New York City Port Authority police officers, Will Jimeno (Michael Pena) and John McLoughlin (Nicholas Cage), who were the 18th and 19th persons rescued alive (there were only 21 in all) from the collapsed towers. Told mostly from deep within the rubble, the story moves briskly from the vantage point of the two survivors clinging to life, their families coping with the uncertainty of their loved ones' fate, and the God-inspired calling of the man who ultimately discovers them. 

There is an eerie sense of layered normalcy in the opening sequence of the film. On one end of the spectrum is McLoughlin, a 21-year veteran of the department. In the pre-dawn hours of what is seemingly just another day, he rises from bed. McLoughlins' tired, sunken eyes and weary movements demonstrate a man who has done this thousands of times in the past and countless times in the future. He dutifully peers into the bedrooms of each of his children before heading out the door for his trek into the city. In contrast, Jimeno has been on the force all of thirteen months. With a young, pregnant wife and four-year old daughter, he is the epitome of the nervous, optimistic rookie. Seemingly savoring every moment, he emerges from his small suburban home with a spring in his step eager to take on whatever comes his way. He excitedly drums his steering wheel and sings along to the tune of Brooks and Dunns' "Only in America" blasting from his car stereo. Meanwhile, McLoughlin stares blankly ahead to a soundtrack of a monotone radio news commentator. The clear city skyline and the Twin Towers gleam brightly in the sunrise of a day that would providentially define the course of history.

Stone, who in past films has had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, uses unusual restraint in his recreation of the hijacked planes flying into the towers. We never the see the planes or the explosions of impact; instead we "feel" them through the sickening sound. (This is a powerful and effective method because every viewer has their own "story" behind the events of that day--where they were, what they were doing, who they were with. I found myself struggling with the same emotions watching the film as I did that day.) When McLoughlin rallies a small group of officers to enter the burning towers, Jimeno is the first to step up. An unspoken bond is immediately formed as the brave men embark on their mission--the young cops filled with fear and uncertainty and the vet McLoughlin, with years of experience and knowledge, leading them despite the impossibility of the task. As chaos ensues around them, the team begins their ascent. The tension increases as scores of desperate occupants file by them, many of them burned, bleeding and covered in soot. When the first tower begins to collapse, Stone unfortunately resorts to the hackneyed technique of slow-mo as if the moment needed more dramatic effect. 

Continue: 1 2