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MAN ON WIRE
Directed by James Marsh, based on the book To Reach the Clouds by Philippe Petit
Produced by Simon Chinn
Released by Magnolia Pictures
UK. 94 min. Rated PG-13

Warning: this film will produce vertigo.

Frenchman Philippe Petit walked between the twin towers of the World Trade Center on a tightrope 1,350 feet above the ground in August, 1974, for 45 minutes—crossing back and forth the 200 feet between the two buildings and taunting the police waiting on a rooftop. Just seeing a photo of Petit lying down on the wire is a shot of adrenaline, even though you know the feat’s outcome. There’s no acclimation for the high-wire exploits of Man on Wire, even with abundant footage of Petit’s pre-WTC warm-ups crossing the towers of Paris's Notre Dame and Sydney Harbour Bridge. No summer action movie comes close to his derring-do.

Most of the amazing shots were filmed by Petit’s crew. A Parisian street performer, Petit knew what he was doing, proving as agile a self-promoter as he was an athlete. Before the towers were even built, he began preparing six years earlier, coordinating his plan like a heist. Fittingly, director James Marsh introduces Petit’s ragtag team separately, each in a mug shot-type pose. 

Hailing mostly from France, the conspirators also had help from the inside. Insurance executive Barry Greenhouse, who already had an office though the towers were not fully completed, arranged for their credentials to get into the towers and helped smuggle in a crate of equipment. Months earlier, another cohort finagled his way to the roof as a member of the press, taking pictures to figure out how to rig the cable.

March maps out the plan, hour by hour, on the fateful day, which is almost as suspenseful as the recount of the stunt itself. In keeping with the lunatic spirit of Petit’s endeavor, many of the high-speed, lighthearted reenactments closely resemble a Keystone comedy.

No one among the interviews asks what sort of person would mastermind or carry out such a scheme. It’s obvious; Petit’s out there, way out there, with charisma to spare. There’s no question who the leader was and who followed in his coterie, though his outsized personal brand of philosophy may not completely win you over—if he were to die during the crossing, he believed it would have been a “beautiful death.”

Basking in the limelight again, he’s a captivating storyteller, and a bit of a ham, too. Still lithe and compact at 58, he throws himself into acting out a moment where he and one of his co-conspirators hid under a tarp, only a few feet from a not-so-observant security guard, for hours into the night. His gung-ho enthusiasm almost upstages the built-in nostalgia for the Twin Towers. (September 11^th isn’t mentioned; it doesn’t have to be.) But the amazing shots of lower Manhattan win out, and you can’t fault Marsh for using the ubiquitous Gymnopédie No. 1 by Satie when the score accompanies such literally breathtaking shots of Petit walking on air. Kent Turner
July 25, 2008