In the late 1960s and throughout the 70s, a small but dedicated group of revolutionaries known as the Weathermen orchestrated a string of bombings throughout the United States. Among their targets were New York City Police Headquarters, the Capitol Building and the Pentagon. Their goal: to overthrow the United States government.

Perhaps most interestingly, every single one of the Weathermen was a lifelong American citizen. Isn’t that hard to believe?

In our post-9/11 universe, it seems inconceivable that the idealism espoused by terrorists could ever exist within our own citizens. After all, we are Americans; we don’t breed terrorists, we bomb them. We are too jaded, too cynical, and, above all, too practical to ever fall back on that sort of fairy tale nonsense—aren’t we?

Despite what your TV may have told you, terrorism isn’t just for foreigners. It has an American face, too, a point brought home in the new documentary The Weather Underground. This film, directed by Bill Siegel and Sam Green, chronicles the Weather Underground Movement, from its sudden birth in 1969 to its bitter end in the late 70s.

The story, for those who are unaware of it, begins in Chicago in the summer of 1969, at the annual convention for Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). At this convention, a group of the SDS’ most charismatic leaders formed a splinter group known as the Weathermen. They advocated the use of violence to overthrow what they perceived to be a corrupt United States government.

The first official action of the group was the Days of Rage, in which members marched in Chicago and attacked policemen. After a disappointing response from other activists, the Weathermen went underground. A plan to bomb Fort Dix failed, resulting in the death of three Weathermen, and the group recommitted itself to non-fatal bombings across the country. They committed dozens of bombings of high profile government centers throughout the 70’s without killing a single person.

Siegel and Green face an unenviable task in releasing the movie in a world so marked by the September 11 terrorist attacks. Terrorism has become a dirty word in our society, and it would seem an impossible task to portray the Weather Underground movement in an impartial light.

This movie succeeds, however, in its impartial characterization of the Weathermen. It does not glorify them as daring freedom-fighters, but neither does it demonize them as blood-thirsty murderers. The overall impression is that they were a group of flawed individuals, trying to do the right thing, but going about it in the wrong way.

Mac students familiar with the Weathermen may be surprised that I’m throwing the word terrorist around in conjunction with that movement. After all, as every member of the group is quick to point out, the Weathermen never intentionally killed anyone in the dozens of bombings they perpetrated over the years. One of the most interesting questions brought up by the film is “How do you define a terrorist?”

If the definition involves killing innocent people, then the Weathermen can’t be considered terrorists. Although that’s not necessarily for lack of trying. Twice in their history—once at Fort Dix, during a decommissioned officers’ dance, and once at a New York City police station, during weekday working hours—the Weathermen attempted to bomb a site where innocent civilians were located. Does the mere fact of their attempt make them terrorists, or do we require that people die before we lump a group into that category? How do we classify them, armed with the knowledge that they resolved never to kill anyone after these attempts?

Where The Weather Underground really triumphs is in recreating the mood that surrounded the events being discussed. Siegel and Green cleverly weave news footage of the Vietnam War, the assassination of Fred Hampton, and the Weathermen attacks with interviews conducted with former members of the movement. The effect is tremendous. For 90 minutes, I felt as if the energy of that time and those people had been conveyed. Siegel and Green perfectly balance the urgency of the political climate of the early 1970s with the perspectives of those who acted within that climate.

It is that delicate balance which finally allows the audience to see this group of bombers as something more than that. By understanding the desperation and disillusionment running through this country, I could understand why the Weathermen acted as they did. I may not condone it, but I can at least understand it.

In the end, that is what is so depressing about the film. For 90 minutes, I could imagine that systematic change was possible and revolution was inevitable. For that hour-and-a-half I could check my cynicism at the door and truly believe that this world could be changed for the better. But when the movie ended, the cynicism had to return.

When it did, I had to face the fact that the revolution spoken about so passionately in The Weather Underground never happened. For all their efforts and idealism, the Weathermen had little effect on the structure of this country. Their violent movement was a failure. When juxtaposed with the recent failures of the non-violent anti-war movement, there seems little to be hopeful about after watching this film.

So I guess all there is left to do is to sit down for 90 minutes and relive a time when anything seemed possible. I recommend that you all do the same.