A Review of The Walk by Nick Olszyk
MPAA Rating, PG
USCCB Rating, NA
Reel Rating, Four Reels
“People ask me
‘Why do you risk death?’ For me, this is life.”
This
opening line wonderfully sums up the philosophy of tightrope walking, perhaps
the greatest symbol of navigating this mortal existence in the entire world of
art. The Walk shares the most famous
circus performance in history when Philippe Petit (Joseph Gordon-Levitt)
illegally walked 140 feet across a wire strung between the Twin Towers 110
stories up in the air. His partner in crime is director Robert Zemeckis who
once again has created a film that invites his audience to dream big, assured
in the knowledge that life is beautiful and God infinitely good.
Like
most heroes, Philippe begins with humble origins as a rascally kid in rural
France who becomes instantly hooked when he sneaks into a performance by the Omankowsky
family. He starts small on the streets before getting his big break by walking
across the towers of Notre Dame, landing him several days in jail for
trespassing and his first taste of fame. At the dentist office one morning, he
sees a magazine article about the construction of the Twin Towers and draws a
small pencil line between them. It is destiny. He organizes a small team for
his “le coup,” who constantly practice English for the convenience of the film,
then travels to New York for several months of preparation. With surprising
ease, he infiltrates the site again and again, disguised as a construction worker,
reporter, and even architect. On the big day, he faces numerous obstacles as he
tries to get to get to the top unnoticed and string a wire across the void.
These scenes are wonderfully choreographed, rivaling the best heist movies.
Finally, Philippe is ready to make his walk, but is the world ready for him?
The
most obvious question is “why?” Even his team doesn’t know the answer, openly
telling him the coup is “ridiculous, madness, and impossible.” Philippe is a
man of action, no thinking. “Because it is beautiful,” he tells them. “and because it is impossible.” He was right. The 1970s were a cynical age when filled
with cold wars, lying presidents, the rising spectre of terrorism, and recently
broken-up pop bands. Many New Yorkers hated the towers, calling them “two
concrete slabs.” Into this world, Philippe injected an act of pure beauty that
defied all reason, encouraging his fellow humans to face their challenges with
hope and courage.
It is not enough, however, for something to be
aesthetically pleasing. As any advertiser can explain, it is easy to manipulate
an audience into believing an immoral idea through the use of clever
craftsmanship. It is possible to condemn Philippe saying he broke a just law
and put himself and others into grave danger in the process. Zemeckis
understands these objections and addresses them. Philippe indeed breaks the law
but holds no grudge against the police or even the laws themselves. “Thank you
for your patience,” he tells them as they clamor to get him off the wire. When
punished for his crime, he was only too happy to fulfill his sentence. While the
task is very dangerous, he does not enter it recklessly, practicing constantly
beforehand and going through every possibly bad scenario. He also takes care to
make sure no one else is put in harm’s way. He reinforces the wire to make sure
it stays. When the police attempt to cut the wire without slacking it, he
insists they lower it gently. “Someone might get hurt,” he shouts. The one sad
result of all this is Philippe’s inability to extend his bravery to his
personal life, and he girlfriend breaks up with him shortly after the walk.
Amazing as it is, tightrope walking is only a symbol of the journey one must
take with our fellow man. Philippe also never mentions religion explicitly,
although he does have brief moment out on the wire where his heart is filled
with deep gratitude for this chance.
If you
think twenty dollar might seem like a lot to pay for an IMAX 3D film, you are
correct. Most films, even good ones, are perfectly acceptable to watch on a
decent HD television. Yet, this is not the case here. In many years of
reviewing, this is only one of three that must be seen in this format (the
others were Life of Pi and Gravity). Cinematrographer Dariusz
Wolski’s camera flows freely to give the audience a sense of the enormity of
the towers with a healthy sense of vertigo. The script, written by Zemeckis and
Christopher Browne, is fun and snappy like Philippe himself. I couldn’t help
grinning the whole time, like I was in on Philippe’s secret.
The
elephant in the room is of course the ultimate fate of these two beautiful
giants, and it is very impressive the gentle way Zemeckis handles this
sensitive issue. Philippe’s feat was the polar opposite, an act of joy and love.
This film feels every bit the same.
This article first appeared in Catholic World Report on October 5th, 2015.
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