4.5 stars. Rated PG, for minor profanity and chaste nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.2.15
And I worried that this film
might be dull.
The saga of Philippe Petit’s
high-wire walk between the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, in the summer of
1974? OK, granted; it was an amazingly audacious stunt, and an impressive
display of awesome dexterity and physical prowess. But how in the world could
that sustain a two-hour film?
 |
| Once they've become an item, Philippe Petit (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) shares his impossible, idealistic scheme with Annie (Charlotte Le Bon): to somehow run a cable between the two closest corners of New York's fabled Twin Towers, and then to embark on the most incredible — and dangerous — wire walk ever attempted. |
Silly me.
Director Robert Zemeckis’
exhilarating depiction of Petit’s bold feat is almost as exciting as the
historic walk itself. Cinematographer Dariusz Wolski’s breathtaking,
crystal-clear camera angles blend seamlessly with Kevin Baillie’s visual
effects, to put us “right there” at virtually impossible moments.
I haven’t been this dazzled by a
film’s visuals since Claudio Miranda’s Academy Award-winning work in 2012’s Life of Pi.
Wolski and Baillie also make
excellent use of their 3D effects, for which this film clearly was designed.
The dimensionality is integrated smoothly, often to enhance the sense of
vertigo — particularly during the third act — as we peer down from the top of
one of the towers. 3D cinematography hasn’t been used this well since Martin
Scorsese’s marvelous handling of the technology, in 2011’s Hugo.
Inevitably, whether at a circus
or elsewhere, we always watch wire-walkers from below; it simply isn’t possible
to do otherwise. But that’s precisely what Zemeckis and his team pull off: We
often experience Petit’s work from above — disorienting enough — or even as if
we’re standing alongside him.
Our rational minds insist that
what we’re watching couldn’t possibly be real, just as our hearts suggest otherwise.
Which is a reaction that Petit,
an impudent showman through and through, would both understand and encourage.
The riveting screenplay — by
Zemeckis and co-scripter Christopher Browne, based on Petit’s memoir To Reach
the Clouds — also contributes greatly to this film’s enthralling allure. Zemeckis
and Browne don’t treat this as “mere” build-up to a fleeting display of
athletic grace; it is, instead, one of cinema’s ultimate, clenched-knuckle heist
flicks, told with the panache and verbal flamboyance of a circus barker.
Again, an apt comparison, since
star Joseph Gordon-Levitt makes Petit the ultimate bold rascal: a mischievous
scoundrel with a twinkle in his eye, who passionately narrates his own story,
frequently breaking the fourth wall — and addressing us directly — in order to
do so. (Recall that Tom Hanks’ Forrest Gump did much the same, in Zemeckis’
1994 adaptation of Winston Groom’s novel.)
We get an immediate indication of
the visual wizardry at work, as Gordon-Levitt’s Petit recounts his saga while
standing in an improbably high spot atop the Statue of Liberty ... from where
he can gaze across New York Harbor toward the fabled Twin Towers, site of his
legendary exploit.
“Fabled” being the operative
term, four decades later.
Petit’s once-in-a-lifetime wire
walk is inextricably linked to those majestic structures, and filmgoers can be
forgiven a moment of doubt, wondering whether it’s still too soon to be
reminded of so painful a national loss. Rest assured: Zemeckis is as respectful
as Petit himself was, when — still in France — he first learned of the
then-almost-complete towers, and felt drawn to them on a psychic level.
Indeed, Zemeckis’ film honors not
only Petit, but the towers themselves: an artistic statement that helps us move
beyond the reflexive grimace of pain, at their mere mention, and instead
reminds us of their origin as a glorious declaration of bravura engineering and
national pride.
A lofty sentiment, to be sure ...
but Zemeckis pulls it off.
Yes, we’ve seen these events
before, most particularly in James Marsh’s 2008 Academy Award-winning
documentary, Man on Wire. But Zemeckis adds an element of heightened energy
that frequently makes his film even better than real life.
The story begins in France, as
young Philippe — briefly played, in these early scenes, by Soleyman Pierini —
becomes transfixed by the high-wire work of the Omankowsky Troupe, a family of
circus performers led by the imperious “Papa Rudy” (Ben Kingsley). When the boy
grows old enough to be accepted as a student, he seeks lessons and advice from Papa
Rudy, but their relationship is prickly at best; the older man insists on doing
things his way, which invariably seems too slow and (needlessly) cautious to
the impatient Philippe.
They part, with Philippe honing
his craft as a street busker in Paris, a new “avocation” that leads to a
meet-cute encounter with Annie Allix (the charming and adorable Charlotte Le
Bon, well remembered from last year’s The Hundred-Foot Journey). Le Bon and
Gordon-Levitt share wonderful chemistry, and as a couple they’re too cute for
words ... although it quickly becomes apparent that the artistically driven
Petit calls the shots in their relationship.
Petit learns of the New York’s
soon-to-be-completed Twin Towers, and becomes transfixed by the temptation they
represent: the ultimate wire walk, between the towers’ two closest corners (a
distance of 200 feet, at a height of 1,368 feet). He shares this dream with
Annie and, soon thereafter, amateur photographer and “voice of reason” Jean-Louis
(Clément Sibony) and free-spirited Jean-François (César Domboy), the latter
amusingly terrified of heights.
But it quickly becomes clear that
Philippe desperately needs the professional guidance that only Papa Rudy can
provide, particularly when it comes to technical details such as cable strength
and tension, and how to locate and anchor the necessary cavalletti (support cables). A bargain of sorts is struck, with
Papa Rudy again becoming a crusty mentor (a role that Kingsley delivers
impeccably).
Once in New York, the team
expands to include fast-talking salesman/con artist Jean-Pierre (James Badge
Dale) and Barry Greenhouse (Steve Valentine), an “inside man” who happens to
work in an office on the 82nd floor of the south tower.
It’s perhaps important to note
that some of the lesser members of Petit’s team, as depicted here, are
composites “built” from actual individuals omitted from this drama (such as
American photographer Jim Moore). That said, all the key individuals introduced
above are based on their real-life counterparts; Valentine even looks much like
the actual Greenhouse, complete with the somewhat sinister handlebar mustache
and Van Dyck beard.
Such casting touches aside, Zemeckis
and Browne’s script really kicks into gear once we get down to the final few
weeks prior to the Aug. 7 walk, at which point the story displays its
fascinating caper elements. Petit and his crew never could have obtained
permission to embark on this gambit, so their planning and execution represent
a true Impossible Mission, with enough coincidences, minor disasters and lucky
breaks to keep us at the edge of our seats for an entire hour.
As I’ve noted elsewhere, knowing
the actual outcome doesn’t matter; we still sweat all the details.
Gordon-Levitt delivers a
commanding, mesmerizing performance, complete with an inflection-perfect French
accent. He’s simply spine-tingling on camera, exuding the enthusiastic bonhomie
that made the actual Petit so impossible to resist. Gordon-Levitt also display
the necessary strength and physical grace, whether setting out along a high
wire, or immersing himself in the droll mime routines of Petit’s early busking
days.
Alan Silvestri’s equally
enthusiastic, jazz-laden score also is a treat: alive with fanfares and
orchestral melodies that mirror the joie de vivre with which Zemeckis fills
every frame. Not since John Williams’ work on 2002’s Catch Me If You Can has
a film score been this much fun.
The Walk is bravura filmmaking
in every respect: an exhilarating two hours that play even better on a massive
IMAX screen. Next time somebody asks you to cite a movie with a true “sense of
wonder,” put this one at the top of the list.
Outstanding!
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