Some films capture history; others make you feel like you’re living it. September 5 does both, transporting audiences back to the 1970s with an unflinching gaze at a tragic moment in time. From the very first frame, the picture grade—a grainy, almost vintage aesthetic—sets the tone. Watching on a 120-inch 4K screen, I still felt like I was staring at one of those bulky old TVs, the kind with dials you had to turn by hand. It’s a clever and immersive choice, one that instantly signals we’re stepping into the past.
One of the boldest decisions in September 5 was the inclusion of real-life footage from the actual incident. For those familiar with this history, it could be a deeply triggering experience, and for those encountering it for the first time, it’s an emotional gut punch. The way the film weaves archival footage with dramatized events is masterful—never exploitative, but rather a necessary tool to drive home the weight of the moment.
At the heart of this intense drama is Peter Sarsgaard, who commands the screen with his signature cold, no-nonsense energy. He has a knack for playing these kinds of roles, and honestly, I’m not mad at it—he’s just that good. John Magaro and Ben Chaplin also shine, pouring raw passion and emotion into their performances. Magaro, whose first-ever experience on a movie set was as an extra in Munich (fun fact!), brings a depth that makes his character’s stakes feel all too real.
Despite the heaviness of the subject, the film finds moments of levity, with humor used carefully and respectfully. It never detracts from the gravity of the story but rather adds a human touch, reminding us that even in the darkest times, people find ways to cope. The political and emotional elements are well-balanced, ensuring that no aspect of the tragedy is reduced to mere spectacle.
Clocking in at a tight runtime, September 5 moves with urgency. The ticking clock isn’t just felt narratively—it’s a literal part of the movie’s tension, amplifying the stakes in real-time. And rather than following the victims directly, the story unfolds from inside a single control room, an unusual but effective perspective that heightens the suspense. The attention to period detail is impeccable—from the massive walkie-talkies to the rotary dial phones and the retro-sounding radio communications, every piece of the aesthetic feels intentional.
Honestly, this is the kind of film that belongs in classrooms. It’s well-directed, well-acted, and most importantly, it honors history with the respect it deserves. September 5 isn’t just a movie—it’s a reminder, a lesson, and an experience that lingers long after the credits roll.
Peace and love to all the victims and their families.
