Through a Lens Darkly: Cinematic Treatment of Post 9/11 Events
John Markert
Cumberland University
Preface
The attack on the World Trade Center stunned Americans who sat glued to their
televisions and watched the repeated collapse of the twin towers. The images of devastation
mesmerized Americans over the coming months as people across the country watched the
heroic efforts of New York public servants swarm over the site trying to sort through the
debris searching for survivors, and later causalities. These images were augmented by an
outpouring of support to assist those public and private agencies rendering services for those
working the site. The attack and the visual carnage that Americans were exposed to on
September 11, 2001 was reminiscent of those who sat glued to their radios on December 7,
1941 to hear the reports about Pearl Harbor, and who later watched Movietone newsreels to
view “first-hand” the devastation of the American fleet at Pearl. Indeed, “the day of infamy”
surprise of both assaults on American soil was connected by the media in the aftermath of the
World Trade Center disaster and with the expectations that the same wave of patriotism that
swept across America after the December 7th attack would be witnessed again in the
aftermath of September 11th. The patriotic fever was certainly there in the wake of 9/11, and
the undertow was sufficient to generate international support for the invasion of Afghanistan
the following month (10/17/2001) and national support for the invasion of Iraq 18 months
later (3/20/2003). But public support began to fade in the coming years as both wars raged on
with no end in sight. The patriotic parallel to World War II that marked President Bush’s first
term in office—which reached its zenith with the President’s landing on the aircraft carrier
Abraham Lincoln to proclaim the Iraq war won—shifted increasingly to parallels with the
Vietnam debacle during the President’s second term in office.
This book is not about the war itself, but about the cinematic treatment of the post9/11 attack. These films have few cinematic parallels. In their initial stage, the current crop of
war films is often dramatically different from film portrayals of World War II. This is due, at
least in part, to the dearth of feature films about the current conflict. The early positive
portrayals that did appear were less about the war taking place in Afghanistan and more
about either 1) the tragedy that took place in New York City on 9/11 or 2) those held
responsible for 9/11, Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden. In their latter stages,
contemporary war films are markedly different because of their growing antagonism toward
the war while in the midst of the conflict. The negative depiction of war-related events is
something that did not occur during World War II or Korea, but was also atypical during the
highly contentious debate that raged in the public arena during the Vietnam conflict: the first
films to critically interpret the Vietnam experience, which officially ended in April 1975,
were The Boys in Company C (1977) and The Deer Hunter (1978).
In the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, the Hollywood film industry marshaled its cinematic
muscle and produced, over the next four years, a tsunami of war films that depicted the
heroism of America’s fighting men (and women) and the evil of the Japanese Empire and the
German Reich. Between one-third and one-half of all Hollywood films between 1942 and
1945 depicted the war in some manner.i Numerous film historians in the immediate aftermath
of 9/11 anticipated a similar cinematic onslaught.ii This did not occur. There were only a few
films released in 2002 and 2003. The first “onslaught” did not occur until 2004 when
approximately two dozen war-related films were released. Since then, over 100 films dealing
with the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq have appeared. This is a thin slice of Hollywood’s
annual release quantitatively, especially compared to those released during WWII that dealt
with the war. This is due at least in part to the different structure of the movie industry.
Hollywood during World War II was dominated by a few major studios and run with
a heavy hand by a few moguls, such as Louis B. Mayer, Jack Warner, Lewis Selznick, and
Adolph Zukor. These individuals could marshal, at a moments notice, studio contract writers,
directors, and actors to start work on a picture. This, coupled with the strong sense of
patriotism by those in the industry—many of whom received honorary military commission,
such as Lieutenant Colonels Jack Warner and William Wyler—and the market demand for
these types of movies, promoted a surge in WWII movies. The financial and moral support of
the government to reinforce the patriotic fever also went a long way in promoting the surge
of war-related movies. The rush to capitalize on these popular films was a critical factor in
their blandness. Films made during the war, with a few notable exceptions, look childish and
banal. This is because, as Thomas Doherty observes, they are little more than “stiffly staged
show(s) of parading toy soldiers and tightly wound dolls” formulaically cranked out. iii
The dominance of the studios was broken when the Supreme Court ruled in U. S. v.
Paramount Pictures (1948) that studios had to disinvest and sever their lucrative theater ties.
The House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) hearings in 1947 and 1951-1952
and the national scandal of the “Hollywood Ten”—ten screenwriters, directors and producers
accused of Communist leanings—further hampered the studios’ market control.iv The rapid
rise of television soon followed, driving the final nail into the once powerful studio system.
These days, Hollywood no longer denotes domination by a handful of key studios and studio
executives, or even a geographical concentration. Today the Hollywood moniker is more
often associated with films made by American filmmakers. The studio names are still on the
masthead—United Artists, Paramount, Columbia, Fox—but the studios mainly rely on
independent filmmakers to produce films, which gives them considerably less control over
what is made. The studios may help finance these films, but their primary role is to promote
and distribute the product. This heterogeneity of a previously homogenous industry means
that it takes more time to put a movie together. This is one reason why there were fewer
mainstream films critiquing the post-9/11 experience and the unfolding wars in Afghanistan
and Iraq after these events transpired.
While the structure of the industry explains the quantitative difference between postPearl and post-9/11 films, it only partially explains the cinematic treatment of the ensuing
hostilities. The “day of infamy” mentality that connects both events that are separated
chronologically by over a half-century should result in similarly themed movies. And this
does occur, at least initially.
Chapter 1 examines early post-9/11 developments. One category is reminiscent of
World War II films in their focus on the “evil foreigner.” This starts with Uncle Saddam,
which precedes the assault on the World Trade Center by a year, but thematically links post9/11 films, and harbingers early Iraq invasion films. Early post-9/11 films shift attention
from Saddam’s weapons program to Osama Bin Laden’s terrorist action. The other film
category focuses on events surrounding the WTC. Films made at the early period—New York
Firefighters: The Brotherhood of 9/11 (2002) and Aftermath: Unanswered Questions from
9/11 (2005)—and those made later—United 93 (2006) and 911: In Plane Site (2007)—are
thematically linked in their treatment of the subject: Americans are the victims, while
“foreigners” are “savages.” This treatment is typical: most war-related films depict an “us”
versus “them” mindset. Those few films in this category that do address the “question” of
9/11 arise later (circa 2005) and do so by challenging the ineptitude of those in power who
should have known about the attack and possibly prevented the disaster. Nevertheless, these
films never question the heroism of either the victims or those rendering post-9/11 assistance.
They also make little attempt to understand the point of view that predicated the attack.
These latter films, despite the time frame that separates them, are thematically linked in their
generally positive examination of how people handled themselves in the wake of these
disasters. This positive cinemagraphic assessment is not the case with many other films,
beginning in the pivotal year 2004-2005.
The initial, generally positive, crop of films begin to change in 2004-2005. Chapter 2
examines films during this transitional period. This includes Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit
9/11, which is “rebutted” by FarenHYPE and Michael Moore Hates America made later that
same year. The year is also cinematically pivotal because of the release in the United States
of a number of foreign films that garnered some attention and which gave a distinctly
different interpretation of the war, such as Control Room and The Blood of My Brother.
There were other films, however, that continued to press a positive interpretation of the war.
Because this is such a pivotal year both socially, with the presidential election, and
cinematically, with an increasingly disparate view of the war, these two years are critiqued at
some length in this chapter.
In 2006, and increasingly thereafter, there is a marked change in the content of films
focusing on the war. A strong, caustic interpretation of the war effort begins to emerge after
2005 as the war drags on and President Bush’s popularity plummets. This is due, in part, to
the war but also because of other (often related) social criticisms of Bush’s presidency.
Chapters 3 and 4 examine the groundswell of films that turn a darker lens on American
involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq. Chapter 3 examines the continued role of
documentaries to interpret and disseminate information about how the war is unfolding.
Chapter 4 examines the feature films that begin to appear, such as In the Valley of Elah, The
Kingdom, Rendition, Redacted, Lions for Lambs, and Cavite. These chapters also assess both
imported foreign documentaries, such as Taxi to the Dark Side, and feature film, such as The
Kite Runner, which capture a side of the war not addressed by American filmmakers.
Additionally, Chapter 4 addresses the sudden surge in feature length films after nearly seven
years have lapsed, explicating both the treatment of the war in these films and the reason for
their late appearance.
Chapter 5 concludes this analysis by attempting to evaluate the impact of these films
on the public, as well as the public’s role in shaping the films that came out of Hollywood in
the wake of 9/11. Before proceeding to the films themselves, however, it is first necessary to
discuss the theoretical underpinning for this analysis of films and to delve into the role of
documentaries, which until recently have been the primary means used to explore the post9/11 world.
Notes
1. Thomas Doherty, Projections of War: Hollywood, American Culture, and World
War II (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993); Albert Auster and Leonard Quart,
How the War was Remembered: Hollywood & Vietnam (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1988).
2. Trevor B. McCrisken and Andrew Pepper, American History and Contemporary
Hollywood Film (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 2005); Carl Boggs and
Tony Pollard, A World in Chaos: Social Crisis and the Rise of Postmodern Cinema (Boulder,
Colo.: Rowman and Littlefield, 2003).
3. Doherty, Projections of War, 2. See also Patricia R. Zimmerman, States of
Emergency: Documentaries, Wars, Democracies (Minneapolis, Minn.: University of
Minnesota Press, 2000); McCrisken and Pepper, American History and Contemporary
Hollywood Film; Auster and Quart, How the War was Remembered: Hollywood &
Vietnam; Patricia R. Zimmerman, States of Emergency: Documentaries, Wars,
Democracies.
4. Gerald Mast and B.F. Kawin, A Short History of the Movies (New York:
Macmillan, 1992), 276-79.