Man on Wire

Amazing documentary - not so much for the filming, which is rather amateurish, but for the capturing of the spirit of an extraordinary individual. One man soaring above the dominance of the physical structures, almost angelic compared to the demons who could only destroy them 27 years later.

What many considered "the artistic crime of the century," French high-wire walker Philippe Petit did what today would be impossible (because they don't exist and because of security) by performing a tightrope walk between New York City's World Trade Center twin towers ...in 1974.

The feat itself isn't as interesting as the preparation and the history behind Philippe's successful walk. Having scaled between the arches at Notre Dame and the Harbor Bridge pillars in Sydney, Australia, Philippe's goal from early on was to walk on a wire much, much higher. At just over 1,350 above street level, the twin towers were his goal.

Friends and even workers within New York's buildings aided Philippe in surprising ways. Many backed out when they realized how close he was to actually doing it, worried that if he fell to his death they would be partially responsible.

But nothing was going to hold Philippe back. Security guards, wind, fog and fearful friends all plagued his attempt ...to no avail.

As stated earlier, the preparation was fascinating, showing the documentary watcher the tensile strength needed to span the buildings, the bypassing of security guards, and the near failure of the entire episode because of a severe sagging of the wire during its initial deployment. The tense nature of how the story unfolded was pretty phenomenal. Looking up from the ground at Philippe as he walked the wire was simply awe-inspiring; he looked like a speck against the higher clouds.

Arrested after his successful walk, the words "Man on wire" appeared on the violation written up by the New York P.D., which is where the film gained its title. But the film is much more than a simple man doing a tightrope walk. It's a historical recounting of one man's goal to achieve what seemed unachievable.

It is strange to see a man doing something artistically dangerous -- and illegal -- on things that no longer exists. Perhaps that added to my enjoyment of the documentary. After watching the horribleness of 9/11 time and time again, it was unique and refreshing to see something being done to the towers of a quaint and beautiful nature. Something that many Americans probably have trouble attributing to the twin towers now. Which is why you should watch this.

Thank you, Philippe.

"Man on Wire" explores the execution and experience of one of the world's most famous artistic spectacles. Philippe Petit's wirewalk between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center on August 7, 1974. When he was 17 years old, Petit read an article about plans for the World Trade Center in New York that inspired the dream that would take 6 1/2 years to realize. James Marsh's film intertwines three threads as it builds toward its climax. It offers a blow-by-blow account of the dramatic feat that played out on August 6-7; it follows the construction of the Towers, seemingly built just for Philippe's ambitions; and it takes us through the years of preparation by Philippe and his accomplices. There are recent interviews, archival footage of Philippe's team, and a moody black-and-white reenactment of the events that unfold as the participants recount their experiences.

This is a competent documentary about an amazing feat of daring and artistry. It's serious in its intensity while embracing humor as well, and the preparation in France and New York is entertaining. But the film's ability to capture the passion and dedication that motivated Philippe Petit make it a great documentary, not just a good one. He's a man with a real lust for life, apparently completely free of neuroses, which he expresses through performance, particularly on the high wire. He might be the only wirewalker in the past 50 years who does not confine his art to the circus. I think the rest are afraid of going splat. Philippe Petit isn't, and, by the end of this film, we understand why. That's its great accomplishment. Philippe is 60 years old, still remarkably youthful and as passionate as he was at 25, so his interviews are terrific.

Director James Marsh emphasizes the human drama through the perspective of Philippe's accomplices, while Philippe's own point of view is more one of concentration and glee. Four men ascended the Towers and rigged the wire after months of scouting the site: Philippe and Jean-Francois Heckel on the roof of the South Tower, Jean-Louis Blondeau and American Alan Welner on the North Tower. Jean-Louis was the only one of the team that planned the walk, apart from Philippe, who stuck with the project, the others having abandoned it for fear it would mean Philippe's death. And Jean-Louis said it was the worst wire he had ever rigged. These men are interviewed, along with those who participated in the preparation, including Philippe's then-girlfriend Annie Allix. In sum, this is an awe-inspiring account of an great feat of diligence and faith. In English and French with subtitles.

The DVD (Magnolia 2008): "Sydney Harbour Bridge Crossing 1973" (20 min) is a short documentary by James Ricketson about Philippe Petit's preparation and execution of his wirewalk between the pylons of the Australian bridge, aided by Mark Lewis, who recounts his role in the feat. "Philippe Petit Interview" (13 min) is a long but interesting interview in which Petit talks about his passion for wirewalking, his approach to life, and what it all means to him. "The Man Who Walked Between the Towers" (10 min) is an animated film for children that recounts the story of the Twin Towers walk. There are optional Spanish subtitles for the feature film. The English subtitles are not optional.

I'm not so sure I'd rate it the best film of 2008, but "Man on Wire" is an exceptionally well-made documentary about the achievement of a high-wire artist, who dreams of crossing the Twin Towers on a wire even before "they're there" (ironically, because of dreamers not totally unlike the film's protagonist they're again "not there"). Despite his last name, the Frenchman, Phillippe Petit, thinks "big" and is not afraid to risk it all (though spectators suffering from acrophobia may occasionally wish not to risk viewing the screen). And in the end, we see him not only as an accomplished daredevil but a genuine artist, someone impossible not to admire and be drawn to.

The film is tight and laconic, avoiding excessive dialog and exposition in favor of making the spectator a participant in trying to figure out what drives someone like Petit.

But the film also, upon reflection, allows us to speculate seriously about the role of the friends and associates without whom the grandiose projects of a Phillippe Petit would literally never get off the ground. The early, non-reconstructed documentary footage is highly professional, obviously filmed by someone who has been directed with great care by the subject being filmed. (Clearly, this man had a sense of theater long before his greatest role.) During the recent footage reconstructing the 1974 episode, the handheld camera is quite animated whenever it's trained on Petit, as if to suggest that he alone is alive, heroic, colorful. By contrast, the camera is rock steady when focusing on the assistants who made possible Petit's publicized feat, making them more wooden and less human. In the "Special Features," we witness a very articulate and "theatrical" Petit talking about his achievement, confirming suspicions some viewers may have picked up while puzzling out his character in the film.

The most telling shot in the entire film is that of an accomplice who, while attempting to describe his feelings after the stunt's success, erupts into tears. A charitable interpretation is that he was so moved to be part of this earth-shaking drama that words fail him. But close attention to the scene brings out the tension underlying the film's story: the heroic, romantic, individualistic artist vs. the collective, the social, the very real audience and supporters without whom his mission would be meaningless and even impossible.

Petit, besides being an artist, is also a supreme "con artist," possessing such compelling "rhetoric of character" in the service of his idealistic dreams that he proves difficult to resist. But once the daring, complex, challenging adventure has been pulled off, who gets all of the credit? In fact, he might be seen to "take" it quite eagerly--and, through a cleverly-filmed slapstick sex scene, narcissistically.

And what if Petit had failed? Who then, even if only by association and implication, is left to live with the blame of an unnecessary death? Those emotions ultimately prove more powerful than the surge of admiration for the accomplishment of yet another hero-artist, be he Evel Knieval, Phillippe Petit, or a rock star living on the edge. We were attracted to him in part by the element of danger, but did we fully understand the other half of it?

Even as we question the ability of a Manson, Koresh, or Jim Jones to influence and control minds, some of us may have questioned our own susceptibility to the undeniable if not irresistible charm of megalomaniacal personalities who seem all too capable of making instant "yes men" of us at any moment. It is these viewers for whom this film is likely to connect in more ways than one, providing a fascinating documentary of a heroic romantic figure while affording a penetrating glimpse of the "ordinary" but devoted onlookers whose own sacrifices make possible and may even exceed the hero's.

I can only join in the chorus of praise for this excellent documentary; it is terrifying, thrilling, and in many senses painful to watch, especially the human conflicts after the event. The other reviewers have done full justice to the power of the film; here are a few of my impressions and memories.

Petit's smile of pure joy that breaks over is face when he realizes after a few steps that his preparations will allow him to complete the walk -- amazing.

The four guy wires that anchored the main wire -- normally they would be attached to the ground, impossible here -- but possible because the two towers were angled to each other.

The 450 pounds of wire which threatened to fall to the ground before it was attached; the effort to hold onto it must have been extraordinary.

"My safety net is much stronger than anything else in the world -- it is my preparation." Man on Wire by Petit is a superb description of his preparations as well as being a thrilling description in its own right.

The New York City D.A.'s words when recommending dismissal of the charges: "The security at the WTC is not all that it should be." [Terribly prescient, that.]

I watched Petit walk across the Great Falls of the Passaic three weeks later, a personal insight into history.

The words of Sgt. Charles Daniels, Port Authority cop:

"I observed the tightrope 'dancer' -- because you couldn't call him a 'walker' -- approximately halfway between the two towers. And upon seeing us he started to smile and laugh and he started going into a dancing routine on the high wire.... And when he got to the building we asked him to get off the high wire but instead he turned around and ran back out into the middle.... He was bouncing up and down. His feet were actually leaving the wire and then he would resettle back on the wire again....Unbelievable really....[E]verybody was spellbound in the watching of it."

A perfect description for Daniels of the real event; a perfect description for me of this wonderful documentary.

Robert C. Ross 2008