When Cinema Was Ghost and Man Silenced

I don't go to the cinema often (mainly because I regard movies these days as dull as dishwater) but I did go to see United 93 in 2006. Its a film by director Paul Greengrass about the events on board United Airlines Flight 93 when terrorists hijacked it on that horrific day of september 11th, 2001. And im very glad I did watch it in the cinema because it gave me an experience I never had before (or since).
Usually cinema crowds are rowdy with folk rustling crisp packets and taking too many trips to the bathroom (go before the cinema!) but with United 93 it was oh so different. No talking during the film, it was like a library and when it finished the audience was as quiet as the grave. As the movie ended with Flight 93 crashing into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, it knocked the stuffing out of people. It was like the snap of the gallows when the trapdoor is sprung and everyones spines were jerked into the reality of what happened on 9/11.
People got out of their seats with minimal fuss, stunned into complete silence, and headed for the exits to try and leave death behind on the silver screen where it ought remain. Eventhough humans are essentially made for death, we like to regard ourselves as immortal and want horror to only exist via the clapperboard but United 93 challenged this, telling us like it is; unimaginable tragedy can happen and frequently does.
We walked the cinema aisle quite sobered by the film, immortal no longer but there was something else which felt better than immortality. We felt as one, bonded by the same frailty of life that we fear. The courageous acts depicted in United 93 of citizens fighting back against acts of terrorism had put us in our place. And I have rarely had such an awesome feeling from a film. The feeling that good will always win in the end, just like the hero riding into the sunset.