If, these days, when our country in the season of spring has begun one of the bleakest autumns of its history, and its nature, instead of blossoms, flowers, and greenery, has been overtaken by the enemy’s blood and fire; when in every street and alley, instead of songs of joy, one hears the moans of the wounded trapped beneath the rubble, mingled with the heart-rending cries of mothers who have lost their children; when from its skies, instead of the gentle rain of spring, a barrage like acid rain is falling, and fire, debris, the roar of missiles, and drones have filled every corner—if you have stayed home and, amid all these nightmares, are looking for a gripping film that will make you hold your breath in your chest and help you forget for a while, then watch The Walk, directed by Robert Zemeckis.
Of course, world cinema had already released another compelling and well-crafted film back in 1956 titled Trapeze, directed by Carol Reed and starring Burt Lancaster, Tony Curtis, and Gina Lollobrigida. That film, too, was warmly received at the time of its release. Interestingly, in Iran, Moulin Rouge Cinema (today’s Soroush Cinema) began its activity on October 16, 1956, with the screening of this very film. But let us move on, because I intend to write here about Zemeckis’s The Walk, an entertaining film with a suspenseful and eventful story. The story is not the product of a creative screenwriter’s imagination; rather, it is based on the real life of Philippe Petit, the French high-wire artist who dreamed of walking on a wire stretched between the towers of the World Trade Center in New York.
Philippe narrates the story of his life from the age of eight, from the moment he went to a circus and became mesmerized by the dazzling movements of several tightrope walkers. Later, he happens to see photographs of the Twin Towers in New York, and this dream completely takes hold of him: to cross the distance between those two towers by walking on a wire.
Philippe goes to New York with his friends, and when he first comes face to face with the towers, he is overcome by fear and despair and declares himself defeated. But the persistence he shows in pursuing his goal belongs to the realm of unusual human beings—people with mad ambitions born of a rebellious spirit. Human beings are by nature in search of affection and attention. Naturally, everyone wants to be seen and to receive affirmation. But it seems that some people seek visibility through extraordinary means. They gamble madly with life and death in order to affirm their own existence and hear the applause of the people standing below, watching them.
With the help of his French and American friends, Philippe works for weeks on a plan so that the great day may finally arrive and he can walk the distance between the towers on a wire without any safety equipment. The film has a simple story: an almost impossible goal for a tightrope walker whose act is illegal, who has no institutional or governmental support, and who must rely solely on himself and his friends to connect the cable between the two towers. And all this for a reason that even he himself cannot entirely explain—he simply wants to carry out a mad performance.
Most Hollywood action films build the conflict between hero and villain on physical fights or verbal confrontations. But in this film, no one is really after Philippe except height itself, which stands before him like a powerful antagonist, an immense and eternal obstacle threatening his fall and failure. Yet Philippe seems to possess a superhuman power: the sheer conviction that this unattainable goal can be desired—and achieved. The entire message of the film, without any motivational speeches, can be summed up in one sentence: “The power of the human mind can make the impossible possible.” Philippe’s defining quality is persistence. Even when obstacles arise one after another in his path, a person with his will can pass through them with a kind of mad determination, even to the edge of death.
Up to its true climax—the achievement of Philippe’s high-wire goal—the film moves forward with a feverish, lively rhythm, warm and captivating. But for a few brief moments, it loses that rhythm, especially when it turns toward comic seasoning, including the scene in which Philippe teases the police, which is somewhat tedious.
Aside from a few unnecessary scenes and some exaggeration in its showy flourishes, The Walk is an entertaining and hopeful film that engages the viewer’s mind. Beyond its compelling story, its careful attention to detail in the use of special effects, and the camera framings shot from atop the towers, the film creates a mad, almost visceral experience of a man standing at a terrifying height. It produces unforgettable images on screen—images that remain in the viewer’s memory.
