Blog Archive

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

The Walk (2015): Gorgeous, High Flying Adventure


Back in the summer of 1974, Phillippe Petit’s daring high wire walk between the roofs of the twin towers of New York’s World Trade Center was a worldwide sensation.  And why not?  It really was sensational. The next day, Richard Nixon resigned, and the news cycle moved on.

The Walk is a biopic and a re-creation, starring Joseph Gordon-Leavitt as Petit.  As you might imagine,  the movie features fabulous images of the little wire artist defying reason, gravity and death on his slender cable, 1350 feet high in the sky, suspended between the now mythic towers. This would be thrilling in itself, and it is. It’s also beautiful and somehow uplifting.

The suspense begins well before the walk itself, however. Petit’s astonishing stunt was accomplished without a permit or permission of any kind (which he knew would not be granted), planned in secret as a dramatically adventurous and artistic performance, with the knowledge that if he and his accomplices were caught, they’d be arrested and the Coup, as they called it, would never come off. The preparations for the walk were elaborate. There were innumerable technical problems: how to secretly gain access to the two unfinished towers - and then to the rooftops - at night, along with four hundred fifty pounds of cable and the equipment to secure it, undetected by workers or security guards; how to get the wire from one tower to another (the corners were two hundred feet apart); how to secure it; how to avoid swinging dangerously in the wind. Watching Petit and his motley crew carry this off is wonderful, amazing and yes thrilling – even though we know how it comes out.

Before The Walk was released, there was speculation that the movie was superfluous – seeing as there had already been a successful, Oscar winning documentary about these events, Man on Wire (2008), which tells much the same story. But while the documentary has it's merits, in truth The Walk is way better. Viewing Man On Wire is like watching a pretty good History Channel program. The experience is interesting, but passive: you feel like – and are – an observer, watching an historical event, pieced together with archival photographs and TV news reports, some home video, and Petit and his cronies narrating and reminiscing 30 years after the fact – all in uninspiring black-and-white. There are a few (cheesy) reenactments intended to draw you into the tension of the moment – such as a scene the night before the event, wherein Petit and an accomplice hide under a tarp on the 104th floor, while a security guard paces around interminably.

The Walk, by contrast, is more visually compelling and much more engaging,  with a visceral quality lacking in the earlier picture. Petit and his cronies are characters with whom we can and do identify. The action of the film seems to be occurring in real time. The risks of the enterprise, the concerns of the people involved, and ultimately the thrill of the sky-high wire walking are felt as real, immediate, and thus exciting. Even the tarp scene is thrilling – we’re under there with Phillippe and his acrophobic accomplice, as they perch on a beam atop an elevator shaft 100 stories high!

Joseph Gordon-Leavitt makes a convincing Phillippe, narrating the story in a charming, funny, engaging turn. Enthusiastic, idealistic, talented, and self absorbed, his Petit comes to life as a very attractive young man on a mission. And Gordon-Leavitt apparently absorbed enough of the craft of wire walking to become a very believable acrobat.  Even his accent is cute. French Canadian actress Charlotte Le Bon (The Hundred Foot Journey) is sympathetic and lovely as Petit’s girlfriend, Annie. The rest of the ensemble are all good, with Clement Sibony as Jean-Louis, Petit’s first and foremost collaborator after Annie, and Cesar Domboy as Jean-Francois, who helps out despite being deathly afraid of heights, especially notable.

Director Robert Zemeckis (Romancing The Stone; Back to the Future I, II, and III; Forest Gump, Polar Express), cinematographer Dariusz Wolski (Pirates of the Caribbean [I through IV], The Martian) and their special effects team have utilized all of the considerable cinematic magic at their disposal to re-create images of the World Trade Center towers so precise and believable that they seem real; and not only real but stunningly beautiful. Most of the second half of The Walk is devoted to Petit’s incredible forty-five minute walk between the towers (he went back and forth eight times!), wand the imagery is simply breathtaking.  

I have heard that some people found the wire walking scenes so realistic as to be vertiginous. I did not find this to be the case. Petit has said that once he was out on the wire, all of his previous anxiety vanished; he felt no fear, but rather, a sense of exhilaration and a sublime, beautiful calm. This is closer to my reaction. It was a lovely almost spiritual moment to watch.

Are we okay with a movie that features the twin towers of the World Trade Center following the tragedy of 9/11/2001? I think so. It’s been fourteen years. In fact, this evocation of what was perhaps the Twin Towers greatest moment may help us recall their glory, rather than simply their horrific demise.

The Walk is best seen on a big screen. I saw it in 3-D, which was used subtly, added depth and verisimilitude, and did not seem at all gimmicky. I am sure the 2-D would work fine, as well. Either way, this picture is gorgeous, entertaining and worth seeing.

In wide release.
123 minutes.


[Note: if, having seen The Walk, you would like more information about Petit and his amazing feat, check out Man on Wire, available streaming on Netflix and elsewhere. Although inferior to the feature film, the documentary provides some details that were left out of the fictionalized version, plus the actual Phillippe Petit. Also, there’s a bit of a melancholy gloss and a few touching moments at the end.]

Friday, October 2, 2015

White God (2014): Dogs Have their Day

What we have here is a warm, sweet love story about a girl and her dog.  Well, it’s not just that: at White God’s beguiling core is a dual adventure story, in which an innocent teen and her beloved mutt become separated, and each in somewhat parallel ways is forced to confront harsh truths about the real world and about their relationship. Well no, what it really is is a remarkably innovative saga about a wronged canine – actually a mob of them – seeking retribution for the cruel, heartless treatment they have endured at the hands of their human masters. Okay, in truth this movie is a critical parable of modern society, depicting how oppression and subjugation based on an ideology of superiority (ethnic, sectarian, social class, or whatever) is not just morally repugnant, but inevitably leads to conflict, violence and the death of civilization.

I think the film is all of those things, which is what makes this seemingly simple, straightforward tale so captivating. In a nutshell, the story goes like this: a girl is forced to spend a few months with her emotionally distant, sad-sack, somewhat creepy dad – but he was not expecting her dog, too, does not want the dog around, is not allowed to have a dog in his apartment, and, to his daughter’s dismay, throws him out. Unhappiness ensues for the girl; homelessness ensues for the dog, followed by hard times, mistreatment, solidarity with others of his kind and a growing desire for revenge, which culminates in a fabulous ending.

White God has been a favorite with critics and at film festivals. For example, at Cannes, it won the Un Certain Regard prize last year [awarded for exceptional and innovative quality], along with the more esoteric, tongue-in-cheek Palm Dog prize [best movie featuring a dog].  Here’s a sampling of some of other critical superlatives:


             Kornél Mundruczó's exhilarating radicalization allegory "White God"… is by turns Dickensian, Marxist and dystopian … a movie as deliriously unclassifiable as it is expertly focused in its desire to provoke and entertain. (Robert Abele, L.A. Times.)
             A Hungarian revenge fantasy like nothing you’ve ever seen before. (Manohla Dargis, NY Times)
            A beguiling work … blending political allegory with the tropes of teen coming-of-age films, White God begins as a tale about a girl separated from her dog, and ends up being the Battleship Potemkin of canine mutiny. (Josh, Kupecki, Austin Chronicle)
            Brilliant. (Steven Rea, Philadelphia Inquirer)           

Some of this praise is a bit overheated. White God is unusual, and certainly entertaining, thought provoking and recommendable, but I wouldn’t call it  “brilliant”.  For example, the plotlines are rather pedestrian, albeit well executed.  This is particularly true with respect to the story about the girl, Lili, although the young actress who plays her (newcomer Zsófia Psotta) is well cast and quite credible. Lili is a girl on the cusp of womanhood,  and Psotta’s face reflects this wonderfully: sometimes she looks like an out of her depth eleven year old, and a moment later, she seems a weary eighteen (she’s supposed to be thirteen).

The star of this picture, however, is Lili’s dog Hagen, a mixed breed marvel, brilliantly acted by twin mutts Body and Luke.  The Palm Dog prize at Cannes was no fluke. There is no CGI to help them, no narration or voice-over to tell us what Hagen is thinking or feeling. But keen directing and the twins’ facial expressions and actions are captivating and tell us all we need to know. Hagen’s journey turns him from a sweet intelligent pet into a warrior and a leader (similar to the journey of Caesar in 2011’s Rise of the Planet of the Apes).

Like that movie, White God culminates with a rebellion. But unlike Rise, the denouement is enacted not with special effects animation or people in animal costumes, but with an army of real dogs. Indeed one of the marvels of White God is trying to figure out how the filmmakers were able to get this army to follow the script! Nearly 275 dogs participated in this story (a record, I’m told), all mutts, all found in animal shelters, and all eventually placed in adoptive homes.  Anyway, it’s a thrilling ending. As to what happens with Lili, her dad and Hagen, all I’ll say is it’s not as pat as you might imagine.
 
Like many worthwhile motion pictures, White God’s message is larger than its story. Given the recent refugee crisis in Europe and Hungary’s less than humanitarian response, this primarily Hungarian feature is definitely timely.

2 hours
Available streaming on Netflix, Amazon instant Video, iTunes, and others; Also on DVD and Blue-Ray.