Man On Wire: Leave Your Vertigo At Home

August 22, 2008 by Svetlana  Send to a Friend

I was about not to review this because it is a ten+ day old release but it is still going strong at both E street and Bethesda row cinemas and you should go see it

Full disclosure:
while I planned on watching this from the second I saw a preview for it, I was thinking about it more in terms of netflix but then Vicky Cristina Barcelona was sold out the first time I tried to see it so I bit the bullet, got myself a glass of Chardonnay and went to this instead.

And I am so glad I saw it on the big screen.

A little (true story) Intro:
In 1974, a yound Frenchman, Phillip Petit strung a wire between the (just about to be finished) twin towers of World Trade Center and spent 45 minutes dancing and performing on it.
No safety net.
No permission.
No nothing.
He just wanted to do it. Really, really badly.

The documentary movie in front of us, follows, in classic heist movie style (even the narrators are introduced as shady and shadowed figures, even though they are anything but), the time Petit and his friends spent planning this, the audacity and sense of wonder it took to pull something like this off and in essence comes off as watching your best friends tell you the best story in the world.
Plus, it is pretty stunning to watch:

When you think about this, there is something tremendeously romantic about the idea of high (and tight) wire walking.

It is based solely on human ability, there are no tricks, no special effects, no smoke and mirrors, no David Blayne sitting on top of a column for a week. It is about joy and wonder and perfect concentration and feeling as free, as I can imagine, one can only feel when living life truly on the edge and to its fullest.

You know that all ends well because Petit is one of the narrators but you stick for the ride:
the initial idea
the totally hare brained scheme
the friends and girlfriend who were so sucked in by this man’s enthusiasm that they never even wondered if something could go wrong (Petit would make a terrific cult leader)
the jet setting
the “Twin Towers association” set up in a field outside of Paris where they practice stringing the wire while running around in 70s clothes, rolling on old couches and looking as young and as carefree as people can get
the breaking into the towers
the night before
the morning of

and you are with them the whole time, because the pacing of the movie is perfect, with your eyes wide open, laughing when they want you to laugh, gasping when they want you to gasp (the “Twin Towers Association” documented themselves very well along the way, as though hoping one day someone would FOR SURE, FOR SURE want to make a movie about them), and when he steps on that wire, the theatre as a whole stops breathing.

As Petit said “Definitely illegal, but not malicious, that was the whole appeal of it”

No one had done it before.
No one did it again.
And now, for all sorts of reasons, no one could even attempt to do it.
The legend of Philip Petit and the “Twin Towers Association” is safe, and yours to see and retell.
If Vicky Cristina Barcelona is my perfect summer movie this year, then this is my perfect cocktail party banter movie this year.
It is meant to be talked about, kind of like urban legends are, but for really real.

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