A fascinating touch comes at the end of the film, when Greengrass cuts back and forth between the passengers saying their prayers before launching their counterattack, and the hijackers saying theirs in the cockpit. There's no moral equivalence here, though. I don't know Greengrass's religion or politics; I do know that he understands there are good guys and bad guys and who are who.
As in any historical picture based on real events, you know how it turns out. You find yourself seeing people making plans for after the flight, next day, next week, next month, and remind yourself that you know what they don't. In spite of that, you're rooting to the very end for the passengers to win.
There's nothing cheap or maudlin or sentimental about the ending. The focus remains on the passengers, from their point of view.
One other patron after the film complained that because the film was so factual and real-time, we never really get to know any of the hero-passengers, the four guys who put aside their fear and put together their response; that they could have been developed more fully as people.
I disagree. The passengers were more or less strangers to each other, so why should they not be strangers to us? We know what we need to know about them, and that's enough.
Article comments