On August 7, 1974, a wiry, 24-year-old Frenchman named Philippe Petit climbed out on a cable extended between the as-yet-unfinished, 110-story World Trade Center towers, 1350 feet above the ground. With no harness or safety net, he pranced about for 45 minutes, crossing back and forth across the chasm eight times, even pausing to lie down on the wire and feign a nap.



In chronicling this audacious sociological art prank, the thrillingly engaging documentary Man on Wire pulses with the brio and whimsical bravado of misspent-weekend adolescence, when outrageous things were attempted “just because.” Powered by Petit’s sly charm — a strange, mischievous mixture of caginess and circus clown showmanship — the movie has the spirit and soul of a noir-soaked, flashback thriller, in which much is already given, and the roughly five percent mystery is chewed over in tantalizing fashion.

Director James Marsh — an eclectic filmmaker who’s given audiences both the trippy, non-fiction Wisconsin Death Trip and The King, a Southwestern American pastoral of dormant menace, starring Gael Garcia Bernal — interweaves dramatic reenactments with both amazing home video footage from the era and present-day interviews. Even these latter bits aren’t straightforward, though; a high emphasis is placed on image (a la Errol Morris‘ moody, artistic recreations), and even the recruited crew member who flees the scene has a theatrical recounting of Petit’s feat.

Winner of both the Audience Award and Grand Jury documentary prize at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, Man on Wire (not to be confused with Man on Fire) is structured like a heist film, and that to a certain degree we know the outcome — because here’s Petit talking to us, quite alive — paradoxically only colors and deepens the experience. The scene set, a bit of early biography gives way to an introduction to all the players, and several of Petit’s other feats of high-wire derring-do, like walks between towers at the Notre Dame Cathedral and Sydney Harbor Bridge. In New York, Petit and a few acquaintances — one good friend, really, and a haphazardly recruited bunch of pot-smoking loafers — began conducting reconnaissance and surveillance work that would of course these days be taken as terrorist advance scouting. Figuring out a way to game the site’s security measures was only the beginning, though; there were also mathematical calculations to account for wind variables, for which exacting replica models helped.

With these and all sorts of other outrageous details, Man on Wire‘s tale somehow becomes even more jaw-droppingly unlikely. Forget about the act itself. Between the years-spanning research, hiding quietly from guards for hours on end, and using a bow and arrow to launch a mono-filament wire across the 200-foot chasm between buildings, so that the cable could then be reeled across… well, it’s downright tiring, and makes you appreciate the view from the ground even more. For more information, click here. (Magnolia, unrated, 94 minutes)