Real-life stories don’t get much more improbable, inspirational, and death-defying than that of French high-wire artist Philppe Petit, who on August 7, 1974 strung a cable (illegally, with the help of accomplices) between the two towers of the then-unfinished World Trade Center and danced for 45 minutes among the clouds for onlookers over 100 stories below. James Marsh’s 2008 documentary Man On Wire beautifully recounts the feat, which took an inordinate amount of preparation (training, trespassing, reconnaissance, recruiting) to pull off. Petit and his team’s accomplishment is the stuff of legend, and Marsh’s film is one of my very favorites.
A narrative version of the tale was inevitable, and it now arrives in the form of Robert Zemeckis‘ The Walk, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt as the uncontrollably charismatic Petit. The movie has its merits: the final 30 minutes, in which we see Gordon-Levitt’s Petit preen and twirl in the sky as aggravated police officers try to snatch him from either end of the cable, is an exhilarating piece of filmmaking that you won’t find in Marsh’s documentary and must be watched in a theater, in 3-D. It’s a high note to end on, but the road to get there is so unremarkable and stale that it makes it difficult to exalt the movie as a whole.
The most wonderful thing about Man On Wire was Petit, who told his own story not just with his words, but with his whole body. Zemeckis and co-writer Christopher Browne chose to grab for that same magic by having Gordon-Levitt narrate the film, addressing the audience directly, from atop the Statue of Liberty. They find mixed success: the symbolism of the fantastical New York City image has a nice poetry to it (the statue’s history isn’t insignificant here), but Gordon-Levitt doesn’t come close enough to capturing the vigor and wild ambition of the real-life Petit. To be fair, I’m not sure any actor could.
Most of Gordon-Levitt’s work has been good-to-excellent, but this is one role he just doesn’t seem to fit into completely. His attempt at a French accent is valiant but shoddy, and while he’s certainly energetic and wide-eyed, he doesn’t exude the same raw passion of his real-life counterpart. It’s a good performance and serves the story well, but he’s capable of much, much more.
In flashbacks inspired by the greatest hits of the French New Wave, we find Petit wowing small crowds as a Parisienne street performer. A magic trick involving a sizeable jawbreaker sends him to the dentist’s office, where his life work begins: he sees a picture of the under-construction World Trade Center and in an instant devotes his life to them. He’s got a lover, Annie (Charlotte Le Bon), and some friends who are willing to help him on his quest, but he seeks additional guidance from a master wire-walker, played by Ben Kingsley.
The movie’s most unbelievable elements—the eponymous walk, the heist-like operation of infiltrating the buildings, Petit’s zany personality—are all true to life. The story is that extraordinary. But Zemeckis’ approach, while inspired, actually dulls the spectacle of the lead-up to the final act. Visually, he views the world through Petit’s child-like eyes, depicting France in a heightened, nostalgic state. Once he gets to New York City, the impossibility of Petit’s dream dawns on him and the movie goes gray in a hurry. It’s a poetic device, but there are flaws in execution. In France, everything feels too Hollywood-y and fluffy, and in New York City, things get a little too drab and depressing. The balance in tone feels off, and a few tweaks in calibration may have evened things out and made for a smoother transition.
If you buy your movie ticket for The Walk, make sure you shell out the extra dough for those infernal 3-D glasses. In this case, they make the movie. The grand finale is absolutely terrifying, especially with the added depth of the 3-D effect. When Gordon-Levitt takes his first step onto that cable hung thousands of feet in the air and the camera points straight down at the tiny streets and buildings below, it’s an incredible feeling. It’s not as touching a moment as you’ll find in Man On Wire or Petit’s written account of the stunt, To Reach the Clouds, but you can’t deny the view.
]]>Be warned: The Walk may trigger latent cases of acrophobia. This thrilling, spine-tingling adventure portrays Phillippe Petit’s daring high-wire walk between the Twin Towers, as previously depicted in James Marsch’s Oscar-winning documentary Man on Wire. Robert Zemeckis (Back to the Future, Forrest Gump) unleashes the full might of his CGI prowess into recreating the skyline of 1970s New York City, as well as placing his affable cast atop the North and South Towers. The vividness of those visuals don’t completely mask The Walk‘s staid script or one-note characterizations, but in spite of its flaws, Zemeckis’ latest is a fun, suspenseful experience.
Chronicling Petit’s journey from aspirational French performance artist to the determined obsessive he becomes, The Walk plows through story beats in thinly constructed short scenes. These early moments, featuring excessive step-by-step narration from Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Petit (presumably doing his best Pepe Le Pew impression), are far duller than what will follow. Zemeckis’ talent for visual flair occasionally transforms the mundanity of an origins story into showcase set pieces. As a young Petit walks across a series of ropes tied between trees, those ropes break off one by one and fall away until Zemeckis’ camera pans up to reveal Petit as a man.
It’s in the final sequences, leading up to and on the rooftop, where The Walk begins to soar. Petit and his gang’s ascent up the towers resembles a heist movie. Complimented by the tapping of bongos and jazzy brass instruments, the crew don disguises and persuade guards in order to reach the building’s 110th floor. Watching the tightrope walker take his first steps out into the open air, swooping around in full circles to reveal the breathtaking views of New York, it’s hard to not simply marvel at the creation. You worry that Petit might fall—even with the knowledge that he won’t. This exhilarating section supersedes the rest of the film—though not as significantly as the opening of Flight does to the rest of that movie—but the journey to the top is peppered with enough cleverness to make the trip enjoyable. The view up there is unlike any other.
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