On August 7th 1974, a young Frenchman named Philippe Petit stepped out on a wire illegally rigged between New York's twin towers, then the world's tallest buildings. After nearly an hour dancing on the wire, he was arrested, taken for psychological evaluation, and brought to jail before he was finally released.
Following six and a half years of dreaming of the towers, Petit spent eight months in New York City planning the execution of the coup. Aided by a team of friends and accomplices, Petit was faced with numerous extraordinary challenges: he had to find a way to bypass the WTC's security; smuggle the heavy steel cable and rigging equipment into the towers; pass the wire between the two rooftops; anchor the wire and tension it to withstand the winds and the swaying of the buildings. The rigging was done by night in complete secrecy. At 7:15 AM, Philippe took his first step on the high wire 1,350 feet above the sidewalks of Manhattan…
James Marsh's documentary brings Petit's extraordinary adventure to life through the testimony of Philippe himself, and some of the co-conspirators who helped him create the unique and magnificent spectacle that became known as "the artistic crime of the century."

ABOUT THE FILM

From desert Island to big screen
Producer Simon Chinn first encountered Philippe Petit on that venerable of British media institutions, Desert Island Discs.  It was April 2005, just over three decades after Petit's audacious high wire walk between the twin towers.  "Listening to the BBC's Radio 4 is a reliably comforting experience, but Petit's impassioned voice and his unique and uncompromising view of the world - happier on a wire at a thousand feet than on terra firma - gave rise to a distinct unease and burned into my brain for ever more."  Chinn was convinced that Petit's extraordinary story was ripe for a feature documentary. 
As he suspected, Petit and his partner and Production Director, Kathy O'Donnell, were already a few steps ahead.  Since the publication in 2002 of TO REACH THE CLOUDS - Petit's critically acclaimed account of his Word Trade Center 'coup' - numerous approaches had been made by hopeful but ultimately disappointed documentarians.  In this instance, the timing was fortuitous.  Petit was on his way from his home in upstate New York to Nottingham in the UK to consult on a stage adaptation of his book and O'Donnell felt he and Chinn should have lunch.   It was an uneasy first meeting.  Heavy traffic on the motorway from London meant that Chinn arrived an hour late and Petit (as befits a man for whom such measures can mean the difference between life and death) was not immediately impressed.
However, the bit between his teeth, Chinn was not easily deterred and, after several subsequent exchanges, including a further meeting in Paris (for which, this time, he was pedantically punctual) Petit and O'Donnell decided to take a leap of faith and accept his proposal. 
Chinn then teamed up with long-time producing ally Jonathan Hewes at Wall to Wall Media, one of the UK's best-established independent production houses.  It was Hewes who suggested James Marsh to direct. 
Hewes had met Marsh some years before and was already a fan of his work, from Troubleman on the murder of Marvin Gaye to his beautifully evocative Wisconsin Death Trip, to his more recent narrative feature, The King.
"James is that rare thing," says Hewes, "a director who has an ability to deliver extraordinary visuals but always in the service of the wider narrative.  We knew this story needed someone special to bring such a rich and multilayered story to the big screen and, in this, James has exceeded our expectations."
Marsh needed little convincing when Chinn first called him at his home in New York:  "James had just finished making The King, a dark and uncompromising tale about incest and familial violence," says Chinn, "and I think the prospect of doing something a little more life-affirming was rather appealing.  I sent him my proposal and he got back to me almost instantly.  He would direct.  I hadn't even asked the question but who was I to argue?"   
"Most people living in New York know about Philippe's walk," says Marsh.  "It is truly part of the folklore of the city and more poignant now that the towers are gone.  But I immediately knew that the fate of the World Trade Center had nothing to do with our film.  Philippe's adventure should stand alone as an amazing true life fairy tale, set in an era usually remembered as squalid and corrupt."   
Thus begun a long collaboration between Marsh and Philippe Petit, involving many trips by Marsh to Petit's home in the Catskill Mountains.  Petit had been ruminating for some three decades on a whole range of ideas for books, documentaries, articles, plays, and feature films, as well as meticulously collating a vast archive of documents, film footage, and personal memorabilia.   Drawing for inspiration on this treasure trove, as well as Petit's irrepressible stream of ideas, Marsh began work on a 50-page treatment which evolved into a clear personal vision for bringing the story he wanted to tell to the screen.
Unlike Petit's book, told very much from his own singular perspective, here was an opportunity to tell the story for the first time from the point of view of all the co-conspirators in "the artistic crime of the century."
"I had always seen the film as a 'heist' movie," recalls Marsh. "We soon discovered that there were an amazing group of supporting characters involved in the plot. The testimony of Philippe's accomplices allowed us to create multiple perspectives on the execution of this criminal enterprise with its many setbacks and conflicts.  They had all been waiting 30 years to tell their part of the story, and their recollections promised to be vivid and surprisingly emotional."
Marsh and Chinn now set about assembling a team of people in New York, London, and Paris who would be able to execute their plans.  In London, co-producer Victoria Gregory began working through the complexities of shooting and cutting over the course of a year on multiple formats and across two continents.  While in New York, co-producer Maureen Ryan set up the US-based documentary shoots and the dramatic reconstruction.  New York-based cinematographer Igor Martinovic, fresh from shooting Sundance 2007's Grand Jury Prize-winning Padre Nuestro, signed on as Director of Photography.  And Marsh's editor, Jinx Godfrey, brought her considerable experience in cutting both features and commercials to the task of creating a gripping, multilayered narrative that had to constantly cut back and forth in time and place.

DIRECTOR'S STATEMENT:  From James Marsh, Director, MAN ON WIRE
"I have the mind of a criminal." That was the first thing Philippe Petit told me when I met him.  He then went on to show me how he could kill a man with a copy of People magazine and, before we parted, he picked my pocket.  Here was an extraordinary individual who viewed the world in a unique way.  Not least, from heights and views that no other man has ever seen.
It is fitting, then, that his story is really the oldest story there is.  It is the hero going on a journey, or quest, to test himself and achieve a seemingly impossible objective.  As a teenage wirewalker in France, before the World Trade Center was even constructed, Philippe was dreaming up a reckless scheme to break in to those un-built towers, rig a wire between them and to dance on that wire, 1350 feet above the ground, for the delight of passers by.  Each one of these tasks looked impossible and the last one seemed like a death wish. In fact it was quite the opposite - as his girlfriend Annie points out in the film: "He couldn't go on living if he didn't try to conquer those towers…it was as if they had been built specifically for him." 
I set out to make a film that would be a definitive account of this mythical quest so I hadn't anticipated that it would become a fundamentally human drama that, amongst other things, turned out to be a comedy of errors, a love story, a story about friendship and its limits and a satire on authority and arbitrary rules.
The richness of the narrative comes from Philippe himself, with his endless capacity for self-dramatization and his inability to sit down and tell his story when standing up and acting it out came more naturally.  The recollections from his oldest friend Jean-Louis and his former lover Annie are no less dramatic and surprisingly candid about the conflict and antagonisms that their adventure generated.  Other contributors gleefully own up to a whole raft of illegal activities and concede more painfully their fears for Philippe's life and their loss of faith in the enterprise. But for those that made it to the top of the towers with Philippe, the words of his trusted accomplice Jean Francois provide a kind of moral for us all: "Of course, we all knew that he could fall…we may have thought it but we didn't believe it."
Inevitably, the film also portrays New York and America in a bygone era.  The Watergate crisis reached its dramatic climax in the very same week that Philippe walked between the towers and Nixon resigned the day after Philippe's adventure.  In 1974, New York was clearly a dirtier, more lawless and more dangerous city than it is now.  It was an era of sleaze, adult film cinemas, muggings and civic corruption.  And yet in this era of zero tolerance, it is hard to imagine the present police officers, judges and politicians of the city reacting to Philippe's criminal activities in the way they did in 1974.  Back then, they applauded him for his exploits. 
Even harder to imagine now is a group of French speaking bohemians breezing through JFK airport with suitcases containing shackles, ropes, knives and a bow and arrow (!), then hanging around a major New York monument with cameras and forged ID cards waiting for their chance to break in - and actually getting away with it. But in the words of Jean Francois again: "It may have been illegal…but it wasn't wicked or mean."   That's a distinction worth remembering.

CHARACTER BIOS
Philippe Petit was born in France, but not of the circus. At an early age he discovered magic and juggling.  At 16, he took his first steps on the wire. He learned everything by himself as he was being expelled from five different schools. He became adept at equitation, fencing, carpentry, rock-climbing and drawing; he also studied the art of bullfighting.
Aided by his passion while performing throughout Europe, Russia, Australia and the United States, he taught himself Spanish, German, Russian and English. He also developed a keen appreciation of architecture and engineering.
On the sidewalks of Paris, he created his street persona:  wild, witty and silent--a character that will never leave him--forever beguiling all who see him. With his wire, he has extended the boundaries of theater, music, writing, poetry, drawing and filmmaking to become an inimitable high wire artist.
Petit gives lectures and workshops on a variety of topics internationally. He is single-handedly building a barn in the Catskills using the methods and tools of 18 th century timber framers. His latest book, THE ART OF THE PICKPOCKET, was recently published in France.
Petit's book, TO REACH THE CLOUDS, which recounts the adventure of his illegal high wire walk between the twin towers of the World Trade Center was adapted for the stage by the Nottingham Repertory in the UK.
Among the friends who have associated themselves with some of his projects are such diverse artists as Mikhail Baryshnikov, Werner Herzog, Annie Liebovitz, Milos Forman, Volker Schlöndorff, Twyla Tharp, Peter Beard, Marcel Marceau, Paul Auster, Paul Winter, Debra Winger, Robin Williams and Sting. For the past 30 years, he has lived in New York City where he is an Artist-In-Residence at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine--the largest gothic cathedral in the world. He was presented with the prestigious James Parks Morton Interfaith Award, and was recently made Chevalier des Arts & des Lettres by the French Ministry of Culture.

James Marsh / Director

MAN ON WIRE is James Marsh's third feature film.
After graduating from Oxford University, Marsh worked as a researcher and then a director for the BBC.   His breakthrough documentary, Troubleman, (1994) chronicled the last years of soul singer Marvin Gaye and his murder at the hands of his father, a fundamentalist preacher and occasional transvestite.
This was followed by The Burger and the King (1996), a documentary about Elvis Presley's bizarre eating habits as told by those who cooked for him at Graceland.  The Burger and the King screened at the Montreal and Chicago film festivals and garnered many awards, including Best Documentary from the Royal Television Society.
In 1998, Marsh's documentary profile of Velvet Underground member John Cale earned Marsh a BAFTA award in Wales for Best Music Documentary.
In 1999, Marsh completed work on Wisconsin Death Trip - a dramatized documentary about a small town in Wisconsin blighted by outbreaks of suicide, murder and insanity in the 1890s.  Marsh won his second BAFTA award for the film along with his second Best Documentary prize from The Royal Television Society.  The film was a selected entry at the Telluride and Venice film festivals and won the FIPRESCI prize at the San Sebastian film festival.  It was also theatrically released in the UK and the US where it played at art house cinemas for over two years.
Marsh's first dramatic feature The King, was co-written with Oscar nominated screenwriter, Milo Addica.  The King was an Official Selection at the Cannes Film Festival in 2005.  A tale of jealousy and revenge set in a born-again Christian community in Texas, the film stars Gael Garcia Bernal and William Hurt.  It was released theatrically worldwide in the spring of 2006. Marsh was nominated for a Gotham Award as Breakthrough Director and the film won Best American feature at the Philadelphia film festival.
In the summer of 2003, Marsh photographed, directed and edited the observational documentary, The Team, in collaboration with New York based filmmaker Basia Winograd.  Made for the BBC, the film charts the efforts of a group of homeless men in New York City to organize a soccer team to compete in the inaugural Homeless World Cup in Graz, Austria.

LONG SYNOPSIS
August 7th 1974: a twenty-three year old Frenchman steps out on a thin wire suspended 1,350 feet above ground, between the twin towers of the world's tallest buildings, New York's World Trade Center.  Six years previously, racked with toothache, Philippe Petit was sitting in a busy dentist's waiting room in Paris.  Happening upon an article in a magazine, he sees an artist's impression of the, as yet un-built, Twin Towers.  As a "reflex", he takes a pencil and draws a line between the two rooftops: "A wire, but no wirewalker".
"Everyone is watching. I need that page, so what I do is:  "Aah-choo!"…  I tear the page, put it under my jacket and go out.  Now, of course, I would have a toothache for a week but what's the pain… now that I've acquired my dream?"
It was his first illegal act in what will come to be known as 'The Artistic Crime of the Century'.   Everything in his life up until that point seemed to be pulling him towards it: he disdained authority and had been expelled from every school he'd been sent to; he'd been arrested over five hundred times for pick-pocketing and street juggling; he'd mastered chess, magic, sculpting, fencing, bullfighting and, finally, tightrope walking.   By the tender age of seventeen, he feels he's ready for his ultimate challenge.
That challenge begins in June 1971 with Petit's first illegal high wire walk between the two spires of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.  A year in the making, he is aided by two co-conspirators: Jean-Louis Blondeau and Jean-Francois Heckel.  "Jean-Louis had told me right away it was illegal", says Jean Francois, "against the law but not wicked or mean… it was wonderful!" But the spectacle fails to inspire much excitement in his countrymen: "The romantic escapade ends up on the front pages everywhere; the world salutes the valiant young poet. Except the French, who are not touched, not enthused.  They do not need an encore." 
Philippe has one aim - to figure out a workable blue-print for the coup.
Philippe and his accomplices will have to:
· Steal, unnoticed, into the tightly guarded south tower of the World Trade Center carrying a 200 foot steel cable and heavy rigging equipment. 
· Transport this cable, which weighs 440 pounds, and other equipment up to the roof, which sits 28 floors above the 82nd floor. 
· Find a way to rig the wire from the north tower, over the 138 foot gap, to the south tower. 
· Work out how to anchor and tension the cable to compensate for the winds and the swaying of the buildings.
And they will have to remain unseen at all times.
Then, a quarter of a mile above the sidewalks of Manhattan, with no safety net or harness, on a wire as thick as your thumb, Philippe will walk out into the void, alone. 
Once on the roof, Jean-Louis awaits Philippe's signal to shoot an arrow to the south tower.   The arrow is attached to a thin fishing line, which is attached to a heavier fishing line, which is attached to a nylon cordina, then a rope and, eventually, the walk cable itself. Unable to locate the arrow in the dark, Philippe removes his clothes, thinking that he might be able to feel the arrow against his naked skin:  "With a defeated heart, I climb down to the edge and I feel a dancing fishing line caressing my thigh.  The arrow was actually balancing precariously on the very edge of the building's corner…a little blow would have simply made it fall".   
Under cover of darkness the two teams start rigging.  Everything seems to be going according to plan when the cable gets loose.  Meters of heavy steel wire suddenly run free and tumble into the void below.  With Herculean effort, Jean-Louis and Alan begin to haul the heavy cable back up with their bare hands.  It's a near impossible task and, eventually, Alan gives up in defeat, leaving Jean-Louis to rescue the 'coup' on his own.
As dawn breaks, time is running out. The team finally manages to anchor the cable as the wheel of the elevator starts to turn, signalling the imminent arrival of the construction workers to the roof.  With moments to spare, Jean-Louis' concerns grow. Philippe is exhausted, the wire is badly rigged and conditions are far from ideal. This could be the end for his accomplice and friend. 
For Philippe, however, the decision has already been made: 
"This is probably the end of my life, to step on that wire.  And, on the other hand, something which I could not resist - and I didn't make any effort to resist - called me upon that cable.  And death is very close... "
A photograph taken by Jean-Louis shows Philippe after he has taken his first few steps on the wire.  He is smiling mischievously as he takes another tentative step, growing in confidence all the time. It is nothing short of miraculous…
On the ground below, looking up towards the breathtaking spectacle above, a crowd of people stare in a mixture of awe, bewilderment, joy and astonishment.
"I promenade from one end of the cable to the other, back and forth. I stare proudly at the unfathomable canyon, my empire. My destiny no longer has me conquering the highest towers in the world but rather the void which they protect.  This cannot be measured…"
A group of uniformed police officers burst through the doors and rush onto the two rooftops of WTC.  Ignoring them, Philippe continues his walk between the towers.
After forty-five minutes and eight crossings, Philippe decides to come off the wire and is arrested for 'criminal trespass and disorderly conduct'.  On the arrest report, in the section for 'details of complaint', the policeman records, simply: MAN ON WIRE.
As he walks out of the courtroom, where all charges are dropped on the condition that he perform a juggling act for children in Central Park, Philippe notices an admiring young woman waving at him. He smiles back…
Images of Philippe's audacious walk grace the front pages of newspapers the world over. His extraordinary feat enters the folklore of New York and beyond; Philippe becomes an instant celebrity.  The Port Authority gives him a VIP pass to the Observation Deck of the Word Trade Center.  It is "valid forever".

The art of the documentary

home