When it comes to pulling emotions and delivering gut-wrenching accounts of tragedy, scripted storytelling often needs some time and perspective. Yet, some stories, like that of the October 7 terror attacks in Israel, tick at such a relentless pace that it makes for a gripping narrative, even before the dust settles.

Crafting a captivating narrative out of a tragedy isn't easy. It's like walking on a tightrope with a razor-sharp focus. This is exactly what Paul Greengrass did with his chilling tale, "United 93" - an unending nightmare where numerous stories intersect. On the same lines, "Red Alert" directed by Lior Chefetz, succeeds in evoking a gamut of emotions and reactions from a much larger canvas.

The Israeli production, released on Paramount+ and Channel 12 in Israel, narrates four stories from that fateful day on October 7, leaving a lasting impact. And while it might pill at your heartstrings, be warned-it’s not an easy watch, its emotional manipulation endowing it a breathless effectiveness.

These four tales of heroism don’t flinch from brutal truths. There's Kobi (Israel Atias), a counterterrorism leader who works undercover at a festival and exchange notes with his police officer wife Nofar (Chen Amsalem) who later face the terror attacks head-on. Another subplot shows Gazan Ayoub (Hisham Sulliman) encountering the terrorist convoy while driving his wife and other laborers to work-a moment of immense tragedy.

In another village, Tali (Sara Vino) and her children seek refuge, only for her son Itamar (Nevo Katan) to step out and face the danger. And amidst it all stands Ohad (Miki Leon) and his family, scrambling for safety in the home shelter as alarms blare.

"Red Alert" isn't sensationalistic. Instead, it nurses a careful restrain. We see burnt cars, horrified expressions, and panic rooms-but only to a limit. Chefetz’s deliberate choice curbs the graphic violence but amplifies the auditory terror, letting audiences experience the sound of rocket attacks and gunfir, drawing them closer into the narrative.

The show does, however, have a few shortcomings. The token presence of Ayoub as the Good Arab and limited acknowledgement of individuals affected feels like a pre-emptive criticism avoidance strategy. Yet, Sulliman’s strong performance helps to ease the discomfort to some extent.

Despite these minor criticisms, the series comes together through tight editing and strong performances. The series focus remains steadfast on the four (or maybe five) versions of heroism - stories that deserve to be told. Shedding light on the human spirit in an unflinching manner, it reminds viewers of the real-life imprints these characters are based on-and is, in the end, a powerful tribute to what happened in Israel on October 7th.