9/11: The Falling Man

The events that took place between 8.46 am and 10.28 am on the 11th of September 2001 need little introduction, so engrained are they in the consciousness of people the world over. The attacks themselves and the retaliatory consequences that they provoked have in the years since the event itself had such a profound effect on world politics, cultural relations, and popular culture that to offer any synopsis would both be repetitive in content and merely prerequisite in its inclusion. I will leave the countless well-informed online resources to initiate those who deem it necessary; indeed, ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ provides viewers with a need-to-know-basis style introduction of its own in order to satisfy the contextual requirements of the documentary film.

‘9/11: The Falling Man’ (dir. Henry Singer, USA, 2006) tells the story not of the 9/11 terrorist attacks themselves but of a sub-plot of the morning’s events. ‘The Falling Man’ itself is one of a series of photographs taken by Richard Drew, a photographer with the Associated Press, which shows in an unsettling narrative an inhabitant of the World Trade Centre’s north tower plummeting to his death. On September 12th, the image was printed by The Morning Call, a regional Pennsylvania newspaper, to the widespread criticism of its readership who found the image deeply disturbing and intrusive. In the face of growing controversy, The Morning Call and several other newspapers that had used similar images chose to self-censor the pictures and distance themselves from them, perhaps realising their mistake or simply acting on ceremony. In the 1 hour and 42 minutes that transpired before both towers were levelled, an estimated 200 people fell to their deaths from the upper floors of the twin towers. The media furore surrounding the image of ‘The Falling Man’ led these victims to be dubbed ‘the jumpers’. Singer’s film documents the story of the picture itself, the reaction to its publication and the attempts of several journalists to identify its subject.

Films produced in the wake of the attacks occupy a place of their own in the American film industry, operating almost as a sub-genre in that they are more commonly referred to as ‘9/11 films’ rather than members of the drama or action genres to which they truly belong. Aside from the succinct convenience of such a classification in a generic sense, the term ‘9/11 film’ also stems from the reluctance of the American public to categorise the event. To Americans, the events of September 11th belong in a category of their own; even Pearl Harbour is afforded the context of being a wartime attack.

‘9/11 films’ have vastly varied in quality. Documentaries on the subject, with the exception of Michael Moore’s Palme d’Or winning ‘Fahrenheit 9/11’, have largely been limited to the small screen; the sensational bias shown against the Bush administration in Moore’s film being the defining factor in its superior marketability. 9/11 feature films have enjoyed more commercial success despite frequently failing to capture either the emotional resonance or the true impact of the events. Paul Greengrass’ ‘United 93’ (2006, France / UK / USA), for its stark use of documentary realism and complementary unknown actors and real-life professionals, is a highlight whilst Oliver Stone’s big budget ‘World Trade Centre’ (2005, USA) falls comparably flat, in part due to the casting of such Hollywood stars as Nicolas Cage and the sense of aggrandisement that accompanies his inclusion.

The disappointment of many 9/11 films can be attributed to one key factor; their clamouring to encapsulate the ‘bigger picture’ by recounting the events of September 11th itself and attempting to unite it with a sense of national pride; the unity that George Bush, in countless speeches, insisted could not be removed from the American public. This treatment all too commonly segues into sensationalism, something that both Moore and Stone’s films are guilty of. Despite the necessity of patriotism to American citizens in the face of such a devastating attack, images of the stars and stripes blowing in the wind do little to explain or qualify the attacks themselves, nor the events leading up to or following them. ‘9/11: The Falling Man’, by adopting a microcosm of the day’s events as its primary subject, largely avoids such pitfalls whilst still intermittently falling victim to patriotic obligation.

As with all competent documentaries, ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ alludes to issues that lie outside the realm of its initial focus, in this case providing a commentary of a sort on the psychological effects of the attacks on the American public. The image of the falling man forced the American people to admit the fragility of their nation at a time when they were unwilling to do so – pictures such as ‘Ground Zero Spirit’ and the iconic image of the World Trade Centre cross were welcomed due to their positivity and optimism, whereas ‘The Falling Man’ was virtually outlawed due to its contrasting nature. The same can be applied to Singer’s film, which is contrasted with most other 9/11 films due to its willingness to confront a truth that America as a nation may not want to address. The fact that the majority of 9/11 films are made by Americans and with an American target audience in mind goes some way to highlighting the sensationalism that has permeated the 9/11 film movement as a whole. The underlying themes of most can be equated to patriotism and national pride in the face of adversity and as such these films are granted far greater mileage in America. That Greengrass’ ‘United 93’ is an exception to the rule makes sense considering the nationality of its director. Like Greengrass’ film, ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ is almost Eurocentric in its objectivity and was aired in the UK 18 months before its North American premiere – perhaps suggesting a sense of caginess about its stateside reception.

As the film’s narration states, “no one wanted to confront the existence of the jumpers.” This statement sets out a mandate for the documentary to tell a story that no one else wanted to. However, through the course of the film the integrity of the image printed by The Morning Call is called into question along with the motives of those who selected it for publication. This results in the integrity and relevance of the story itself being called into question – how much does the picture of the falling man really offer in terms of acting as a defining image of the day’s events? Several senior members of the editing staff at The Morning Call offer their opinions on the photograph and why they thought that it was fit for inclusion; Naomi Haperin, the Photo Editor, cites “the quietness and the body position” as a major factor. She continues, “I saw grace. I saw a stillness even though I know that he was falling. I saw a quietness as opposed to a loud, horrible, burning death.” Another employee recalls the Pulitzer Prize winning photo by Eddie Adams depicting a Vietnamese civilian moments before his murder – perhaps revealing a slightly more selfish motive for its selection. Indeed, those responsible for printing the photograph did so as professionals with the intention of gaining an edge over their competitors and as such the true ‘story’ of the falling man, both the photo and the man himself, was not made available to the public who so vocally opposed it.

A significant portion of the film’s running time is spent documenting the efforts of two reporters to confirm the identity of the falling man and ironically this is where the film seems to lose some of its own identity. The process of identification involves interviews with family members who are suspected of being related to the falling man, although it is made clear that a positive identification was never made. Whilst all of those who are interviewed have suffered because of the 9/11 attacks through being related to a victim, without an official declaration that they are related to the falling man there seems little reason to include them in the film. Documentaries should without doubt deal with fact if they are to stand firm in the face of any potential criticism and at this stage ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ is far more concerned with encouraging an emotional response from its viewers than with documenting. The process of identification raises another issue, one of subjectivity. The success of this portion of the film relies almost entirely on whether the viewer thinks that attempting to identify the man in the picture is a good idea or not. Documentary films are often divisive in their depiction of events through bias, but ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ does not even afford itself the option of such a course of action due to the insubstantiality of the subject that it takes as its focus for the second half of the film. The identification process would have served the film better as a footnote rather than such a prominent branch of the film’s agenda, based as it is on pure speculation. In this sense, the film’s final third has more in common with the trend of conspiracy theory documentaries that have surfaced in the years after the attacks.

The Falling Man is a 9/11 film with a difference. Rather than alluding to conspiracy theories or simply recounting the events of the day it attempts to shed light on a previously untold aspect of a subject that has been well versed in all areas of the media. In parts it is successful, offering a focused and insightful account of an interesting story albeit in a somewhat measured and inoffensive manner which can be attributed to its ‘made-for-TV’ production context. Inexplicable is its flimsy and unsubstantiated climactic thirty minutes in which the only things documented are ifs and maybes. At its best ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ does little to elevate itself above the films with which it shares a close bracket, although based on the many examples of 9/11 documentaries it is difficult to identify what qualities ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ would have to possess to do so. At its worst, the film offers very little of substance whilst still managing to hold the viewer’s attention, a both impressive and mildly frustrating detail. For those who harbour a fascination with the events of September 11th, 2001, ‘9/11: The Falling Man’ may prove to be a successful deconstruction of an interesting subject but for those that have confined the attacks to history it seldom offers more than any other made for TV documentary.

Watch

Country: UK Budget: Undisclosed budget Length: 80mins

Filmography:
'9/11: The Falling Man', 2006, Henry Singer, Darlow Smithson Productions
'Fahrenheit 9/11', 2004, Michael Moore, Fellowship Adventure Group
'United 93', 2006, Paul Greengrass, Universal Pictures
'World Trade Centre', 2005, Oliver Stone, Paramount Pictures

Pub/2009

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