Author: Ramona Richards
The World Trade Center was not always revered. Completed in 1973 by Japanese architect Minoru Yamakasi, the buildings were criticized as monstrosities that obstructed the city skyline and blocked traffic in lower Manhattan. Perhaps the single most outrageous thing about the towers was the boldness of their height, all 1,368 feet rising above the city streets (with one tower just six feet shorter). In 1973, they were the tallest skyscrapers ever built. The megalomania of constructing skyscrapers on such a grand scale could be trumped only by Philippe Petit, who, despite his name, was determined to do big things - big, audacious, absurdly dangerous things, like tightrope walking between the Twin Towers. No harness, no net, no permission.
"Man on Wire," a film by British director James Marsh, is a documentary, yes, but it is not a shoddy History Channel reenactment, nor is it a September 11th tribute. This is the lovechild of Magnolia Pictures and the Discovery Channel, and it strays into the wilder side of art film. This is the story of Petit: part spy, part clown.
Long before construction began on the World Trade Center, there were men and women who dreamed of its grandeur. More specifically, Petit, guerilla tightrope walker extraordinaire, developed an instantaneous obsession with the Twin Towers. He was determined to balance between them. "Man on Wire" follows his passion (and perhaps insanity) in chasing that dream. The film shows Petit and his ever-eager band of conspirators through almost a decade of ambition, from the day in 1968 when Petit first heard of the towers' construction, until August 7th, 1974, when he finally crossed between them.
With his own charisma and vigor, Petit draws you into his world, one in which he has assembled a cast of best friends, right-hand men, insiders and an essential leading lady. With their own voices these individuals retell the adventure, rife with hijinx and mishaps, of infiltrating the World Trade Center to assemble a reality out of Petit's aspirations. Aptly timed and expertly edited, "Man on Wire" unfurls the plot in a seamless layering of interviews, photographs and vintage footage. Marsh's evident craftsmanship did not go unrecognized; "Man on Wire" won the 2008 Sundance Film Festival's World Cinema Jury Prize along with the World Cinema Audience Award for Documentary.
Petit himself is honored in the film, where his almost inscrutable monologues are left respectfully un-subtitled. In a series of poorly translated euphemisms ("Zees towheres, zay were galloping in my brain!") Petit conveys a fiendish glee at the prospect of walking in air between the highest pair of towers in the world. His excitement is contagious and his passion still burns through the decades since his obsession began. During interviews, Petit fantasizes about life and death, dancing intimately (both literally and figuratively) on the line between the two. He is a born performer, carrying with him no distinction between art and life itself. From the outset of the story, Petit, with maniacal verve and disregard for all consequences, has fully committed himself to performing the greatest feat he can imagine.
Petit's previous illegal tightrope walking took place in the early 1970s when he crossed some other impressive international landmarks, like Notre Dame and the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Luckily for him, both his practice and performance walks were expertly filmed and photographed. Luckily for us, this vintage footage is artfully arranged into a nostalgic retrospective of Petit's preparation for his ultimate goal. These touching, retrospective moments are not once overshadowed by Marsh's stylized and carefully orchestrated black-and-white reenactments. The soundtrack to "Man on Wire" adds to the magic and suspense, with consistently subtle and emotive melodies.
French speakers and Anglophones alike will be thrilled by the eloquent and heartfelt testimonies of Annie Allix, the girlfriend, and Jean-Louis Blondeau, the best friend, who find allure and beauty in Petit's career of high-wire antics. The perfectly poised Allix delivers the awe we feel as we witness Petit's obsession, while Blondeau appears as an occasionally skeptical - though no less enthusiastic - wingman.
No one wants to see Petit fail.
"We can think of it, but we cannot believe it," one friend says. When he finally pulls it off, he leaves everyone in shock and awe. Even the New York City police officer that ultimately arrests him is dumbfounded at the sight.
This documentary does not try to glamorize the mania required of Petit and his team, but instead, with tenderness, uncovers the exhilaration and human poignancy of living on the line. Whether we adore or despise them, people like Petit and places like the World Trade Center become iconic - and perhaps poetic - through their drama.
"Man on Wire" is now playing at Palace 9 in South Burlington at 1:40 p.m., 3:55 p.m., 6:35 p.m. and 8:45 p.m.
The Reel Critic "Man on Wire"
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