Sympathetic Vertigo

Yesterday, Sept 11th, I realized that I had an unwatched movie that was absolutely appropriate to mark the anniversary of the terrorist attacks. Hell, for me it was scarier than a terrorist attack. It was Man on Wire, about Philippe Petit's 1974 coup on the World Trade Center. Philippe was an odd duck, and probably could have led a cult if he had wanted. He had an uncanny ability to convince people that it was a great idea to help him risk his life in the name of his art, wire walking.


I have always been a fan of grand gestures of questionable significance, and I think that Petit's stunt may be about the biggest, most questionable feat I have encountered in quite some time. He had walked between the towers on Notre Dame and had performed a free show for the benefit of commuters on the Sidney Harbour Bridge.



I get vertigo when I see this. The concept of being so high, so unprotected, is to me absolutely appalling. Utterly terrifying. Just before he went out onto the wire, I had to hit pause and remind myself that I knew the outcome did not involve him turning himself to sidewalk pate. Last night, as I tried to get to sleep, I kept having the sensation of being alongside him, standing at the edge of the abyss. It was impossible to shrug the sensation off and focus on the business at hand, not thinking about it.

HJ