After seeing United 93 with a friend, writer Andrew Sarris recalls:

My friend and I grabbed a cab to go home and, as fate would have it, our driver was a turbaned Sikh. As we disembarked on the wrong side of Central Park because all the transverse roads had been closed for emergency vehicles, my friend quipped that we should consider ourselves lucky that our driver hadn’t crashed the cab into Butler Library. Yet when I pressed the fare money into our driver’s hand, it was clearly shaking—as if he had already anticipated the petty bigotries that would be directed at the completely guiltless Sikh population in the confusing days that followed.

Indeed, I can’t think of anything good that has come out of the wildly successful criminal coup of 9/11. This imaginative touch of evil has only further poisoned our political atmosphere with mistrust and suspicion, undermined our democratic values and driven our maladministered republic into near bankruptcy. Consequently, I am not looking forward to any future cinematic reminders of 9/11. Even the undeniable heroism of the passengers on United 93 doesn’t edify as it should. These people, like all victims of heinous crimes, should never have died as they did. That was all I could think of as I watched the film, and I was not consoled by the fact that pre-flight delays had enabled the passengers on United 93 to make a more informed decision on their fate than was available to the almost completely forgotten victims of the other three homicidally suicidal flights. [Link]