alwayshungryy

James White (Christopher Abbott) is caught in an endless cycle of self-destruction. He has just lost his father and fears losing his ailing mother (Cynthia Nixon) who he has been taking care of for years. He spends his days drinking, sleeping around and lashing out at others, doing anything to avoid confronting his grief and emotions, which he keeps under the surface, bubbling and waiting to burst. Life has been unfair to him, and this behaviour that manifested sabotages any chance of career or personal growth. He might be using his mother's condition as an excuse not to step out of his comfort zone and try harder in life, which is reasonable to some extent, but he can't seem to change. In his prime, he is jobless and taking his mother's couch as a bed.

This narratively loose drama doesn't offer anything particularly new in giving us a glimpse into the struggles, both internal and external, faced by James. There is not much closure or emotional reward to be given. This is summed up perfectly in one of the very few scenes in which we see James surrendering to his emotions, crying while repeatedly yelling "I don't know what to do".

The best aspect of the film is the acting. Nixon gives an authentic, heartbreaking performance that's understated. Abbott, on the other hand, is given a character that requires patience and sensitivity to sympathize with. James internalizes many complex emotions throughout the film and what goes on in his mind is not always clear to the audience. It's a tricky act to balance but Abbott pulls it off. Their mother-son relationship is the only thing that's certain in their lives and is the core of the film.

The film could have very well ended during its most powerful and stirring scene with James and his mother in the toilet. She can't get up, so they sit and talk about what their ideal life would be like and the future they had hope for. They feel at peace as both of them stay in this moment, still and smiling. This is when the bleak reality of the film truly sets in, as we see these people, both kind and full of dreams and desires, trapped in an unfortunate life.

Anna Fritz (Alba Ribas) is not a human being. In the public eye, she's a celebrity, a religion, an object. "The Corpse of Anna Fritz" makes this clear in its opening scene. As we see her lifeless corpse being moved to the morgue, voice-overs of people on the news are heard. They discuss her impressive career, shower her with compliments on her looks, and gush over how perfect a human being she is. This makes what follows all the more interesting.

Three friends end up in the morgue, alone with her corpse. Though there are brief and glossed over moments of ethical struggle before things get down and dirty, the characters are one-dimensional and serve a distinct purpose in the story. There's the moral compass, the antagonist and the spineless coward. While certain moments could have been more tastefully done, the film does raise questions on whether there is a grey area between right and wrong. In the hands of another team, this could have been a film further beyond our comfort zones that delved into its meaty themes of moral conflict, the ethics of necrophilia, the difference (if any) between the ownership of one's body before and after death and the repercussions of celebrity idolisation.

To be fair, the film does do something different in terms of the way the story shifts focus and evolves with its turns. The acting is fine but not entirely convincing, with Ribas being the stand out.

For a second I had thought that the film would end without its final twist, which was preceded by a intense escape sequence that's noteworthy. This would have been a subversive choice but would probably feel out of place given what they were going for: an entertaining, if predictable, midnight movie that's safe and thus more satisfying.

To learn about and understand the life of French high-wire artist Philippe Petit, who illegally performed a high-wire walk between the World Trade Center's Twin Towers in 1974, one might be better off with the 2008 James Marsh-directed documentary "Man on Wire". However, "The Walk" is a worthy experience about a dreamer who risked everything to achieve the impossible, and gave the people something beautiful, pure and hopeful.

The film is interspersed with scenes of Phillippe Petit (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) talking directly to the audience, narrating his life story and the events that led up to his high-wire stunt, or as he calls it – "le coup". This certainly takes away the potential emotional and cinematic impact longer, narration-free scenes would've had on audiences but it served the purpose of moving the story forward swiftly. The first half feels crammed even though it is pretty much by-the-books: we skim through Petit's life leading up to the event without going in-depth. Which is understandable for a reasonable running time as there is a lot of ground to cover.

The unbearably intense second half surely makes up for this. It's taut with thrills and sequences boasting miraculous visual effects. The 30-minute finale is a immersive, transporting and even physical (as evidenced by my sweaty palms) experience that's one-of-a-kind. In fact, I would go so far as to say that there's no point watching the film anywhere else other than at a cinema.

Levitt's passionate performance is commendable and definitely contributes to a sufficiently emotionally satisfying third act. The film also makes it clear that this wasn't a one-man-show by highlighting Petit and his allies' team spirit. With "The Walk", Robert Zemeckis has given us another crowd-pleasing piece of popcorn entertainment.