Man on Wire

Written by . Published on Sat Oct 25 15:42:51 2008 in the Alternate Takes section.

Photo from the article In his 'Minnesota Declaration' manifesto, Werner Herzog declares, “there are deeper strata of truth in cinema, and there is such a thing as poetic, ecstatic truth. It is mysterious and elusive, and can be reached only through fabrication and imagination and stylization.” Rather than concentrate his documentaries on the world of fact, then, what Herzog seeks is to provoke a more instinctive, emotional response. While the framing of Man on Wire’s story as a crime caper provides a useful, entertaining plot device, it gives us little real knowledge of our characters; for this, the film relies instead on visually-conveyed “ecstatic truths”, particularly those found in the still images and footage of Philippe Petit walking between the two towers of the World Trade Centre.


Petit tells us of his epiphany when, as a young man in a dentist’s waiting room, he saw an article on the prospective construction of the Twin Towers. This pivotal moment is illustrated by the comically sped-up footage of Petit dressed up as a street performer, riding off on his unicycle. At this point, even though we may know that Petit will go on to walk between the two buildings, the idea seems like the implausible whim of a hyperactive eccentric. Yet what we do not realize is that what Petit has in his head at that moment is the magical climax to the film: the soaring music, the figure on a wire, walking as if on air above the city. As Petit himself says: what we are witnessing at the end of the film is “not a dream anymore; it has become tangible”.

A telling moment comes when Petit is being arrested, and is repeatedly bombarded with the question “Why?” by journalists. He is incredulous that anyone could ask this after what they’ve just seen. At this point we too have also just witnessed Petit walk between the Twin Towers, in a remarkable montage crafted from still photographs taken at the top of the towers, from those who witnessed it from far below on the ground, and from short sections of film footage. When Petit says, “there is no why - why is an irrelevance”, you believe him, since the catharsis created by the images you have just seen makes all the danger and struggle that he went through feel worth it. Similarly, the description of his crime on his arrest sheet simply says “Man on Wire” - a fitting example of the inadequacy of words to describe or sum up the inexplicable. We are given a new insight into that silly little eureka moment in a dentist’s waiting room that occurred twenty years previously and an hour earlier in the film.


What is so striking about the events documented in the film is that it while they are centered on the egocentric Petit (and it is undoubtedly he who provides the energy that drives the narrative, both in life and onscreen), it is his girlfriend Annie and his best friend Jean-Louis who provide the emotional centre. The home movie that shows Annie walking on the wire with Philippe, holding onto him as he leads her across, have a strange power of their own. The enormity of what she has got herself into is encapsulated in that footage; whereas Philippe is driven by his dream, we hear Annie’s voice in an interview many years later describe this moment as the end of her own dreams. The footage of the nervous but happy young girl on the wire has a romantic beauty to it - an image of unconditional young love, with its thrills and danger, that allows us to understand her situation in just a few moments. This footage is Annie’s eureka moment: it is the emotional bond and love that we can see here that leads her halfway across the world with Philippe.

Similarly, with Jean-Louis, one gets the sense he only partially shares the same dream as Philippe. He is motivated by the challenge of pulling off the walk, but also, like Annie, by an overwhelming sense of responsibility. As the film draws to a close and the principle characters reflect on what has happened, although one might think that Philippe’s life might have become empty after achieving his dream, he seems for the most part less affected by what took place than do Annie or Jean-Louis. Annie describes how after the walk things were never the same again, and that the couple broke up shortly afterwards. Whilst the dreams of Philippe led to him becoming a media star, Annie’s sacrifice of her own dreams seem to have led to nothing. Jean-Louis’ friendship with Philippe similarly came to an end afterwards, and in an interview 30 years later he is moved to tears as he relates this. Yet both Jean-Louis and Annie remain adamant that their endeavour had been worthwhile: they truly believe in the magic that they helped Philippe to create 1350 feet above New York City, and after what we have just seen we are inclined to agree with them.


Finally, the decision not to mention 9/11 makes the footage all the more special. As it is never explicitly raised, we are never able to fully deal with it; instead it remains irresolvable within the semiotics of the film, with the shot of Petit on the wire with a jet plane in the background the only close-to-overt reference of what is to follow. Though the events of 27 years later will always overshadow everything else, by juxtaposing the most famous and destructive visual association of the towers alongside this other beautiful image, the film achieves the feat of providing a new way of seeing the towers.

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