Man on Wire - A review

Over the years, from time to time, my beloved friend and intrepid journalist Kate Luce Angell has taken me to see people do the following things (among others):

• swallow swords,
• swallow neon tubes in a sword shape,
• walk on blades of swords,
• lie on beds of nails,
• lie on a bed of nails while sandwiched between another bed of nails that people stood atop,
• eat fire,
• eat GLASS….

…well, you get the picture.

See, she’s been working on a book about the resurgence of Sideshow. She’s a great writer and it’ll be a fascinating book, I’m sure. I tagged along partly because I love her, partly because she has a way of explaining things that makes anything sound interesting, and partly because, well, I’m game.

But at some point (I think it was around the time I saw a guy in Soho tape a bunch of firecrackers to his chest and then light them), the “side show” experience went from curious to profound.

See, first off, side shows differ from magic shows in that there’s no trick. Prior to Kate’s exploration of this world and her introducing me to it, I didn’t really realize that. I may have sort of known it, but I didn’t REALLY know it.

People ACTUALLY swallow swords. They ACTUALLY make themselves the meat in a bed-of-nails sandwich. They ACTUALLY eat glass. They are not a-foolin.

Some part of me had always assumed swallowed swords were retractable or something. But no, these people are truly taking bizarre (I mean that in a good way) health risks for our entertainment. There are parameters and necessary requirements for how to do those things so you don’t die INSTANTLY, of course, but the acts themselves and the risks for injury - however well calculated – are real.

For some people, that’s automatically thrilling. The potential for violent injury has a well-earned place in our recreational lives and rears its head in everything from car races to action films. And it should. Confronting and exposing ourselves to things we fear is how we conquer those fears. The process of desensitization is a necessary one or we’d spend our entire lives locked up in a padded bunker.

But what captured my interest was something less reactive and more inspiring. It struck me that these people were staring human limitations – and all notions of impossibility - in the face and defying them. That they shared this defiance with us for our entertainment wasn’t just for our curiosity, but for our liberation. While watching these irreverent souls defy physical limitations, I found myself realizing that “Achieving what is presumed impossible doesn’t rest only with astronauts or Olympians, but with anybody who chooses to re-make the rules of their own bodies.” As we all age, the risk of becoming prisoners to the hue and cry of our bodies aches and pains increases. It’s startling to find new limitations in your own skin. But here are people who artfully refuse to accept the should/shouldn’ts or can/can’ts. They remind us that as crazy or foolish as these acts may seem, you can’t call them impossible.

So when ones of the interviewees in MAN ON WIRE, the James Marsh documentary (newly available on iTunes) about Phillippe Petit’s stroll across a wire connecting the Twin Towers describes his feat as “profound,” I knew what he meant.

Because I’d seen the Sideshow.

But not because of MAN ON WIRE.

MAN ON WIRE is getting what seems to be uniform critical acclaim this awards season and is on the short list for Oscar. One can see why - it’s deftly constructed, sharply paced and has a compelling story.

But it left me quite cold.

James Marsh quite rightly makes no mention of the demise of the Towers. It would be inappropriate and exploitative. But the unspoken end of the story hangs over the piece like a dark and thunderous cloud. Perhaps in light of the extremely dark end of the Towers, Petit’s act seems to many to be particularly defiant, inspiring and glorious. But it struck me instead as frivolous. That could be just “where I’m at” with regards to the Towers, but I’m more inclined to blame the film, and I’ll tell you why.

Marsh has indicated in interviews that part of his attraction to the story was his sense that it provided much the thrill of a good heist movie. I love me a good heist movie. I love the Robin Hood quality of a rag tag group of guys going up against the system and getting their own little slice of the big pie. I love the craft and suspense of the well-laid out victimless crime. The film plays into that delight, as the films beginning involves THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR style behind-the-scenes glimpses of the fake ids and disguises used to gain access to the Towers.

MAN ON WIRE would have likely filled me with the same delight, if it weren’t for that ever present cloud. If it had been any other building, I too, might have thought it was thrilling and exciting. But the source of the suspense – that the gang Petit needed to support his elaborate goal might get arrested – seemed well, just irresponsible compared to the security needs of buildings which ultimately suffered three terror attacks, finally being felled by the last two. Marsh invites you to revel in the “crime”, which for me, simply served to remind me of crimes inextricably associated with those buildings and therefore made me feel a lot less sympathetic to criminals, as harmless their particular crime may seem. Rooting for Petit to succeed in his impertinent quest - and engagement with the film requires that we see Petit as the righteous perpetrator of a victimless crime against a large institution - is difficult in light of the victims that the Towers and their tragic inhabitants became. And frankly, the idea of his potential death in pursuit of an acrobatic dream feels not romantic and idealistic, but disrespectful and narcissistic compared to those who felt no choice but to drop that distance as the Towers burned.

I know I’m being DeLisa Downer here – I get that - and I’m glad for whoever might feel inspired by the film. But next time I need to see something “out there” and “silly” to remind me to set goals beyond my easy reach, I’ll be out at Coney Island looking for a man with a sword in his stomach.