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Man on Wire (2008) Director - James Marsh; Starring - Philippe Petit, Annie Allix, Jean-Louis Blondeau, Jim Moore, Paul McGill, Ardis Campell, Barry Greenhouse, Alan Welner, Jim Moore, Jean François Heckel; Rated PG-13 for some brief sexuality and nudity, and a few drug references; see the trailer here.

I cannot help but find myself thinking about David Blane.  And thinking that as good as Blane might be, he is a hack compared to Philippe Petit.

Blane has gained notoriety as a magician and performance artist stunts he has performed around New York City.  From encasing himself in a block of ice to submerging himself in a sphere filled with water and living in it for a week, Blane has made a name for himself by performing feats that push the boundaries of human endurance. 

What he does as a performer is with different objectives than Petit.  It is probably only the connection of New York City that put Blane in mind as I watched Petit in Man on Wire.  The subject of James Marsh's documentary is, like Blane, a magician and also a high-wire performer.  Petit has a passion for eye catching stunts that put him at risk of serious injury or death.  As the film focuses on the most amazing performance of Petit's career, it is important to keep in mind two elements that separate the two:

1) Petit's risks are greater because of the lack of control he has over the elements, and because of the potential for disaster at the slightest misstep.

2) Petit's stunt - walking a tightrope across the gap between the tops of the two World Trade Center Towers - was wholly illegal.

Man on Wire tells Petit's story through interviews with the man himself and the friends who helped him plan and execute his dream.  The various players recount their part in helping the plan come to fruition over a six year period before Petit first stepped onto that steel cable on August 7, 1974.  The stories the various principles relate, accompanied by old home movie footage they shot during the planning process, paints a picture joy, fear and conflict, all spawned by one man's passion.

Petit today, even in his late fifties, exudes both the passion of a great artist and the arrogance of someone who knows just how good he is at what he does.  As he recounts the difficulties in eluding security and the technical challenges to make the walk possible, there is a torrent of emotions flowing through his voice and his body.  What readily becomes evident is that the only fear Petit may ever feel is that of not having the chance to make his performances happen.

Archival footage showing some of Petit's other walks at Notre Dame Cathedral and the Sydney Harbor Bridge illustrate that if Petit is arrogant, it is only because he is so supremely gifted at what he does.  He walks as easily on the wire as you or I may on the sidewalk.  The fact that he is hundreds of feet in the air when he does so never seems to be part of his concern.  On his "stage", to say Petit's work is jaw-dropping qualifies as a serious understatement.

All of which makes the personal footage planning with his friends the more touching and intimate.  In particular, the interviews with Jean-Louis Blondeau highlight the challenges in attempting to aid someone he cares for in doing something that could lead to Petit's demise.  The arguments never come across as particularly heated in the retelling, or in the home movies, but the emotions at work play across Jean-Louis' face subtly.  I found the bond between the two men tremendously moving.  Would that we all had a friend so dedicated to helping pursue crazy dreams.

That friendship provides what proves to be an interesting contrast when compared to the interviews with Annie Allix, Petit's then girlfriend.  There is no question that Allix loves and reveres Petit for his work.  The reverence comes off more strongly in the contemporary interviews, the love visible in the home movie footage as she works with Petit during his practice walks.  But there is something in her demeanor that comes off as cool in respect to what Petit is proposing to do with his wirewalk.  Perhaps it is just me imposing an American perspective on a French relationship.

Actually, there are several points during the film, particularly in the discussion of the aftermath from Petit's walk, where the differences in perspective and attitude between the French and Americans is drawn into sharp relief.  Whether it is Petit talking about the American press' fixation on the question of, "Why do this?" or the personality clashes between Petit's French colleagues and the American ones who are recruited to fill out the crew, the distinction between the American attitude and that of the French is always coloring the experience.  It was an unexpected bit of social commentary that gave the film an added level I was not anticipating.

The greatest credit to director Marsh and the film itself comes in the restraint of the film's focus.  Given the tragedy of 9-11 and what the World Trade Center has come to symbolize in America today, it almost might be expected to try and add some forced context connecting that event to Petit's.  I found myself feeling slightly chilled during the film's opening thirty minutes, when archival footage showed the Towers being constructed.  My companion for the screening wondered afterwards if Marsh ever considered asking Petit what he thought when the Towers came down.

Marsh, however, showed the proper artistic restraint in limiting his focus to Petit's story alone.  The story itself unfolds quickly and those relating it do so in a fashion that feels almost like I was sitting at a gathering of old friends.  Because of that intimate aspect, it was every bit as difficult for me to restrain tears watching Petit in action as it was for his friends, both in the moments when it was actually happening and in the retelling more than thirty years later.  Marsh seems very much in the Errol Morris/Alex Gibney mold of documentary filmmakers that lets his subjects be the story rather than injecting himself into it.

By the time the lights came up, I found myself thinking about Petit as a singular hero doing that which by all rights seemed absolutely impossible.  There is such a tendency amongst critics to attach the word "inspirational" to any film with some semblance of a feel-good theme to it.  Here, I feel with Man on Wire that it unquestionably applies.  Petit is a man who seized his dream without the slightest inkling of fear.  Is that not what all hope for when pursuing the things which move us most?

A few weeks ago, a couple of friends embarked on their first ever attempt at sky diving.  The jump went well, and the comment was made that it was as close as they thought they could get to flying outside of a plane.  After seeing Man on Wire, I would take dispute with that description.  After all, a plane and gravity do all the work for you.  Petit is truly the one man I believe can fly because he does so by his own choice and through his own actions.  He does so effortlessly and with ever bit as much grace and skill.

And I suspect that more than a few times over the next few nights, in my dreams I may fly as Petit did.

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