A tightrope and the twin towers

"Man on Wire" challenges our conceptions of human capabilities and limitations, and it doubles as a fascinating portrait of the artist as the burglar, as Marsh uses blurred, black-and-white photographs to stage elaborate scenes that look like they were pilfered from an international espionage thriller. The documentary shows us Petit's training filmed on grainy but gorgeous home video and also shows us a few of his previous escapades, including a dance between the two towers of Notre Dame in Paris.

And while the tightrope dancing - that is really what it is, and that is what it is called by one of the police officers who ultimately arrests him - is beautiful and engrossing, the movie still displays all facets of its quixotic protagonist. Petit could easily be imagined as suicidal and insane for his desire to walk on the airspace between the towers. His unusual relationship with his friends - they are essential to him, yet he sometimes seems as emotionally attached to them as a hard-nosed boss does to his employees - makes the final work of art all the more satisfying to those who were actually involved and to the viewer. Annie Allix, Petit's girlfriend at the time, is portrayed through old movie clips as someone who is constantly at Petit's side as he wrestles with his massive idea, and she remembers Petit romantically in the present-day interviews woven into the film. She is also very independent, however, making it clear that Petit's relationship with his friends would not be the same after his walk.

Though the documentary often shoots back to the past, we see the events leading up to the performance in the present of the movie. Those scenes pass quickly, just as they did in reality. As Petit and his team hide on one of the towers' highest floors, waiting to elude the guards under the cloak of night and set up their complex wire design, it is easy to forget that this is a documentary and not a fictional thriller. While Petit and his crew certainly don't seem innocent as they lurk beneath the cover of night, they don't seem villainous, either, and their recklessness is met largely with admiration and glee at its success rather than contempt for its endangerment of those involved. The film also has a fascinating take on the engineering skill required to tie the wires between the towers and a beautiful score that is appropriately dreamlike and haunting.

Petit's ability to use his sprawling dream as a means to befriend important people is also clear from interviews and footage. These deep-seated friendships, in turn, give Petit a semblance of immortality. It is not until the end of the film, when many of these seemingly unbreakable bonds have been broken, that we are vaguely reminded of the towers' own demise. There is no mention in the film of their destruction, no mention of terrorists or bombings. Now, with the towers gone, it is possible to imagine the film's climax as a sort of memorial to the World Trade Center decades before its death.

Petit brings beauty to a place of undiminished grief as he flirts with death and waltzes with the wind. All the while, his actions relay the truth that everything is all right. For a few glorious scenes, we have escaped with him, above it all, above our own troubles. Though in retrospect the movie is as heartbreaking as it is magical, the tightrope act is totally apart from that former feeling, for as a man walks on air, he does not fall, but instead he dances.

5 out of 5 paws