The Hamburg Cell (2004) (TV)

User Rating:

7.0/10   

Director:

Antonia Bird

Writers:

Ronan Bennett (writer)
Alice Perman (writer)

Release Date:

10 January 2005 (USA)

Genre:

Drama | War

Plot:

A fictionalized account of the September 11 hijackers.

Plot Keywords:

Muslim | Martyrdom | Hijacker | Terrorist | Flight School

Cast

Karim Saleh	...	Ziad Jarrah
Maral Kamel	...	Mohammed Atta (as Kamel)
Agni Scott	...	Aysel (as Agni Tsangaridou)
Omar Berdouni	...	Ramzi bin al Shibh
Adnan Maral	...	Marwan Shehhi
Kamel Boutros	...	Mohammed Atta (as Kamel)
Tamer Doghem	...	Zacarias Moussaoui
Khalid Laith	...	Abdul Aziz AlOmari
Nasser Memarzia	...	Assem
Omar El-Saeidi	...	Said al Ghamdi
Bassem Breish	...	Yasser
Mark Clifton	...	Flight Simulation Instructor
Navíd Akhavan	...	Salim
Joel Kirby	...	FBI Agent
Clayton Nemrow	...	Pan Am Instructor

Runtime:

Germany:100 min | USA:106 min

Country:

UK

Language:

English | Arabic | German

Color:

Color

Aspect Ratio:

1.78 : 1

Sound Mix:

Stereo

Certification:

Australia:M

Filming Locations:

Central Station, St. Georg, Hamburg, Germany

Company:

Mentorn Television

Goofs:

Miscellaneous: During the earlier flight training in the Cessna they showed the terrorist in the right seat. During flight instruction, the flight instructor always sits on the right and the student on the left (pilot's seat).

Quotes:

Ziad Jarrah: [On a cell phone] I'm at the departure lounge.
Marwan Shehhi: Me too.
Ziad Jarrah: Our time has come at last...

Soundtrack:

Forsaken

Not just important (though it is) or groundbreaking (though it is) but also brilliant

It's a rare moment indeed when a TV movie becomes a film of the year contender, but here it is - Antonia Bird's Hamburg Cell, ignominiously dumped on Channel 4 after a run at the Edinburgh festival. Reportedly some American companies have expressed an interest in distributing this movie theatrically in the US - I say our American readers should jump at the chance. This really is an astonishing film - a combination of the geopolitical savvy and naturalistic acting of the Makhmalbafs with a flavour of sixties and seventies US political thrillers, overlaid by a hideous atmosphere of death. Think of it as All The Jihadist's Men, or The Bosnian Candidate...

Though the title and advertising hinted at an ensemble drama, this is really the story of two men - Ziad Jarrah, a Westernised Muslim who falls under the influence of terrorist mastermind Mohammed Atta, and Jarrah's absorption into fundamentalism, culminating in the events of September 11th 2001. As Jarrah, Karim Saleh is a major find, coping expertly at the outset with Jarrah's changing world view and shading the character to show that crucially, what Atta offered Jarrah above all else was confidence and a sense of purpose. He catches the drama of a man both part of and at war with the modern world through understated little details - I especially liked his nervous pause after his flight instructor said "fuck". Later on, he adds a third side to the character, embodied in a fixed stare that seems to both plead with and threaten anyone it rests on. It could freeze a grown man's blood on its own.

It is important not to fall into the trap of praising this film simply because it's the first major dramatisation of one of the most important events in recent world history. It is entirely possible, after all, for a film to deal with a serious subject and be bad at the same time. I've searched for some kind of artistic deficiency in what Bird has done, and there doesn't seem to be one. Above all else, the film is pacy and almost indecently gripping. Within the first fifteen minutes, I could hardly bear to look away from the screen, throughout the final forty minutes I was shaking.

Bird offers few stylistic flourishes. Each character is introduced by a freeze-frame and a caption, and further captions fill the viewer in on events too complex or bureaucratic to effectively dramatise. Most of the film is coolly low-key in its presentation of events, and yet it's still remarkable how economical and intelligent Bird's direction is. Every scene glows with metaphors and inspired juxtapositions, such as a mobile phone ringing in a mosque or readings from the Koran over grainy CCTV footage.

Ronan Bennett's script is similarly astute. One moment brilliantly captures the hypocrisy of all fundamentalism, as Jarrah tries to blend in at his graduation from a Miami flight school and asks for a hamburger and a pint. Then he almost blows his cover by attacking the beer with the fervor of someone whose religion has forbade him from drinking for the past two years, and breezes back to Atta with scarcely a thought for the contradiction. Atta, played by the opera singer Kamel, is necessarily a less complex character than Jarrah, but he gets a few moments that would be funny if they weren't so overshadowed by death and hatred - one where his mother asks him when she'll become a grandmother, and some bizarre instructions to the cell which sound more like preparations for a date than preparations for mass murder ("Take a shower. Shave all excess body hair. Wear cologne").

I suppose the final question is, does this drama glamourise or sympathize with the hijackers? I believe all but the most prejudiced viewers (see the 'reviewer' below, who damns the entire film on the basis of five seconds of newsreel footage) will agree that this is a sensitive and non-judge mental drama that could never offend anyone's sensibilities. Indeed, the film's American release is eagerly awaited by several 9/11 victims' groups who applaud the effort to understand the fundamentalist mindset. Bird and Bennett give their characters more than enough rope to hang themselves, only coming close to editorialising when Jarrah's cousin speaks damningly of al-Qaeda: "They hate everything modern. Except their guns! Oh, they love their guns..."

If it is possible to sympathize with someone while abhorring everything they stand for, then it is possible to feel a little sorry for Jarrah, especially when a romantic evening with his wife a few days before September 11th is interrupted by a text message from Atta telling him to say his final goodbye to her. In moments like this, the horrible enormity of what Jarrah feels he must do is brought home tragically. But in the end, Jarrah's obvious humanity only serves to condemn him further. He was once a normal man. He could have turned back, stopped the Cell, blown the whistle to the FBI. But as the screen fades to white and the credits roll silently, we are left with the fact that he didn't. What could reflect on a man more damningly than that?