Why I Won't Watch a 9/11 Movie

Okay…get it out of your system. Or perhaps I’ll get it out for you:

“How unpatriotic.”

“What are you, heartless?”

“And you call yourself an American?”

I am patriotic. I consider myself of good heart. And damn it, I am undeniably an American. So, why won’t you find me in the theatre watching “World Trade Center?”

It’s not that I’m scared or emotionally scarred. It’s not that I refuse to believe that 9/11 wasn’t a serious attack on our way of living. It’s not that I don’t believe that people shouldn’t know the details of heroism, cowardice, or the sheer traumatic toll of that fateful day. To me it’s really simple: I not only don’t want to watch a 9/11 movie, I don’t need to watch a 9/11 movie.

You can only imagine the looks I get when I answer people’s questions about the issue. After the perplexed look on their face disappears, the barrage of questions start coming out. I’ve had to defend my point so often, it’s become rote. And yet, my parents, friends, and various bystanders treat me like a curiosity when they hear my answer. To be sure, I am not the only person who refuses to watch a movie regarding the events that surround 9/11, but somehow, they can’t grasp my reasoning why.

While I am sure that Oliver Stone’s ”World Trade Center”and Paul Greengrass’, ”United 93” are probably wonderfully made Hollywood movies – that’s all they are. MOVIES.

I won’t ever stop anyone from watching a flick, but there are just some things that don’t feel right about these movies. Stories are bent to fit a 120-minute timeframe. Many of the people who participated in the successes of that day are sometimes regulated to smaller roles, or worse, an amalgam of various other people. The line between fact and fiction is often blurry. Despite charitable contributions to various charities and foundations – these movies are still made for money. Someone is making profit off of our soft spot for bereavement. With this in mind, it doesn’t feel ethically right for me to sit in my Cineplex with my bucket of popcorn watching a reenactment of this particular historic event.

“But don’t you think it’s important to remember?” a former colleague asked me when she discovered my anti-9/11 movie stance.

Yes, it is of utmost important that we remember the tragedy and honor those who lost their lives either as bystanders, fighters, or rescuers. But, if I have to pay $8-$10 to watch a movie about it, I’ve already placed distance between me and the tragedy. And that’s the worst thing I can do. That means I’ve lost my focus about an event that was life changing.

The fact is, I don’t need Hollywood’s glorified version to tell me how to remember. Real life examples are much more powerful tools to the memory and resolve of human beings.

If I want to remind myself of what’s important about 9/11, I recall how lucky I was to come home on September 8th from a business trip in Canada. If I want to learn about heroism, I read stories like that of David Karnes, the Marine turned accountant who was responsible for finding the two men who’s lives are highlighted in Stone’s movie. If I need a kick in the pants, I walk down over to the desk of my co-worker, Liz. Liz had just had her baby and probably waited an agonizing eternity for her husband, who worked in the Towers, to come home. He called her that morning saying something was happening, but they didn’t know what. Liz told him that she didn’t care what anyone was telling them to do, but he needed to get the hell out of there. Thankfully he listened to her or she’d be one of the countless widows that were made that day.

All these personal and public experiences are all I need to remember what happened. The REAL stories of Will Jimeno and John McLaughlin will always be more meaningful and dramatic than anything a director can put on screen. I refuse to let my knowledge of the day be dictated by a widescreen, partially fictional version. Once the details start getting fuzzy – so does the memory of what really happened on 9/11.

And to dilute what happened might be far more tragic than the actual event.