n the face of great tragedy, we are all children. Attempting to make sense of the nonsensical, cobbling together some explanation why the world seems to be falling apart. But Oskar Schell is literally a child, chasing after the memory of his father in “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.”

Oskar’s father, Thomas Schell (Tom Hanks), died in the World Trade Center. Prompted by a key found in his father’s closet in an envelope labeled “Black,” Oskar embarks on an expedition he believes his father designed for him ante-mortem. Thomas Horn (Oskar), delivers a deeply affecting performance, outshining even the big-name actors (Hanks, Sandra Bullock).

Horn’s raw, nerve-fraying, emotional performance serves the film’s live-wire quality, crackling with the kind of power one would expect from a movie featuring 9/11.

The tragedy is not glossed over, nor is it exploited. Rather, it is handled at a ground-level, telling the story through the powerful lens of a 9-year-old. Oskar’s perspective offers a vulnerable, if tunneled, view of the world, zeroing in on the details of life and people that knit together humanity.

 But it seems as though with nearly everyone the socially-awkward Oskar encounters, a new tragedy is revealed, bringing him not closer to closure but deeper into his grief. “Loud” doesn’t follow the typical movie template, having one crescendo of an emotional moment. It instead leaves the audience’s tears to simmer nearly the whole way through.

Director Stephen Daldry marries sound and striking graphics to pull the viewer into Oskar’s struggle to make sense of the things around him: the blurred photo of a man jumping from the Trade Center that could be his father but could be anyone.

 And perhaps most haunting of all, the answering machine that contains six progressively distressing messages from Oskar’s father, his calls from inside the tower during the attack. The messages, hidden from Oskar’s distant mother, prolong Oskar’s grief and shake the viewer.

Where the movie is in part lacking, is in character development. The viewer is left wanting more from Oskar’s mother and ultimately from Bullock herself, who seems more worn-out than truly poignant.

Halfway through the story, we meet the mysterious Renter who lives with Oskar’s grandmother and may or may not be Oskar’s absent grandfather. Max Von Sydow as The Renter is superb, even without any lines as his character is mute. His story, however it may whet the audience’s curiosity, is left underdeveloped (although those that read the Jonathan Safran Foer’s book behind the adaptation know that he has a story worth telling).

The movie and book have been criticized for its focus on the Twin Towers attacks, accused of being too soon after the event. Ten years is too soon? There are movies dealing with the Holocaust still being released today that are powerful, shocking in their exploration of a subject decades old, but still atrocious. Not talking about what happened, treating it as “too soon” to discuss is impeding healing, not helping it.

 As Oskar struggles to overcome, so are we. And “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is a step in the right direction.