TV REVIEW
PBS documentary tries to make sense of Sept. 11

By Patricia Brennan
Washington Post

Americans have had almost a year since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks to grapple with events of that day and try to resolve their shock, terror and, in some cases, upheavals in their religious lives.

As the first anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon approaches, many special television programs are being broadcast this week and next to mark the event that changed so many lives. PBS photo

For this one, she interviewed 850 people to find those who would make a compelling program. Ordinarily, two hours of people talking might not be particularly interesting television. But in this case, what they say is often touching, and in some cases profound.

This program — one of many 9/11-related shows this week and next — may catch and hold viewer attention as few others do. Watching people try to make sense of what happened that day becomes a look into the human condition. A transcript is available — and many viewers may want one.

"I feel that the human face and the human voice and what it is that people say when they're really being thoughtful and poetic and precise in their language is riveting," Whitney said. "A thought that is pursued naturally in all of its windings and developments can be dramatic and powerful."

She brackets her subjects' words with poignant footage and music, including Barber's always-moving "Adagio for Strings" and a blend of patriotic and religious songs and prayers and chants.

In "Faith and Doubt," people face their deepest beliefs, asking whether evil and God exist. Some are atheists, some are agnostics, others are Christians, Jews, Muslims and Buddhists. For some, their beliefs were badly shaken. For others, religious faith was a comfort. Some became cynical. Some cry as they recall the day.

One man says he went to Rockaway Beach — where another plane crashed only days later — and cursed God for the cruel loss of life, including more than 30 of his friends. "It was too barbaric the way the lives were taken," he says. "So I look at him now as a barbarian ... I think I am a good Christian, but I have a different view and image of him now, and I can't replace it with the old image."

A retired firefighter smiles wanly as he says he tried to appeal to God to "give me this one thing," the life of his 24-year-old son. Another of his sons says he stops in at churches to talk with his late brother and "drops in (the collection plate) a couple of dollars to buy him a beer."

A young mother whose firefighter husband was killed when the towers collapsed says she "can't bring myself to speak to him anymore because I feel so abandoned."

A rabbi chants as a daily prayer the last words of love that were recorded by the relatives of people trapped in planes going down in Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon.

An Italian-born photographer, Luca Babini, an agnostic, says: "I don't know if I ever believed in God (but) I wish there was a God that I could access ... I wish God had a telephone number since Sept. 11."

Those words resonated with some of Whitney's acquaintances, she said. "Many of my friends who don't have any belief whatsoever, they say: 'Luca spoke for me. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a belief?' "

There also is a close look at organized religion: A Catholic priest says he recognizes a dark side underlying the attack — religious fanaticism. A rabbi says all people who claim to be religious must acknowledge "a serious shadow side to this thing." A Lutheran minister who prayed at the Yankee Stadium memorial service with leaders of other religions is battling to stay in the Missouri Synod as others accuse him of heresy. He was suspended pending appeals.

After the towers in New York were destroyed, families and friends of people who remained missing posted photographs of their loved ones outside Manhattan's Bellevue Hospital. PBS photo

It was the six months that Helen Whitney spent with monks at St. Joseph's Abbey in Massachusetts that set her on an exploration of faith, she said. A new mother when she made the film "Monastery" in 1980, she called it "one of those great experiences in my life, in which a film just seems to happen like wind in my sails. It's my favorite film. It was largely such a happy experience."

After that, she said, "I studied at a Bible-study group for Jews and Christians and agnostics and atheists. We read for eight years together. I continued on in a spiritual reading group for many years."

Then she made "Frontline's" 1996 election-year special, "The Choice," comparing the characters of Bill Clinton and Bob Dole. "There was religion in that, among the powerful forces shaping those two men," she said.

In 1997, she and co-writer Jane Barnes received a Writers Guild Award nomination for "John Paul II: The Millennial Pope." "There was nothing easy about that film," Whitney said. "The challenge in that film was to avoid the simplicities and the hagiography of the right. He is a tower of contradictions, and I had to honor them."

After the attacks of Sept. 11, recalled Whitney, she immediately wanted to do a film.

Whitney had already been in contact with "Frontline" executives about "The Future of Faith," a six-hour series on faith. They advised her to come up with a plan for a 9/11 special.

"I spent a few weeks thinking about it very seriously, bringing a group of friends into my apartment, all of them smart, and we all stayed up talking about whether there was a film there," she said. "I was surprised by the unanimity of the language of history and sociology and politics, but there also was a metaphysical language. I was so startled to hear that. I began to think about it metaphysically."

In looking for people to interview, she said, "I cast my net very widely. I talked not only to people who had lost people and people who were in the towers, but firemen's widows, opera singers, CEOs, security guards. We pre-interviewed 850 people."

Whitney began to see themes for her program: The first would be to let survivors and relatives of WTC victims recount the shock of the day. The second was concern about God's role. "Their belief and unbelief was challenged, whether it was altered or enlarged or shattered, or people's conception of no God was shattered," she said, "and how (what happened) challenged what we mean by evil."

"The last act was very clear, was what people really wanted to talk about: the potential for violence, this paradox of (religion as) beauty and grace and a window to the sublime, and all that darkness of destruction."

In the film, Monsignor Lorenzo Albacete says: "I recognized an old companion: I recognized religion." Rabbi Brad Hirschfield agrees: "Religion drove those planes into those buildings. It's amazing how good religion is at mobilizing people to do awful, murderous things. There is a dark side to it."

Whitney said: "Before September 11, I would not have found the rabbis and priests that were willing to be deep and searching and look within their own traditions. I wanted people to talk only about what they knew and no finger-pointing.

"I also came to know believers whose faith was profoundly challenged: Who is this God and where was he and how can there be such pain and such evil in the universe? I was taken back by the fierceness of the questioning and the width of it and the breadth of it."

In addition, she said, "It had a very strong effect on me. It was hard to be in the midst of so much sorrow and grieving and become close to people. I don't even know what kind of sea change there has been inside of me. In terms of my faith, it's too soon to tell."