the-walk-joseph-gordon-levitt

So I come out of ‘The Walk’ (Robert Zemeckis, 2015) and I am stepping gingerly, for if there is one thing I do not trust in the world it is granite tiles on steps, and I think there must be some tie-up between new age builders and orthopedic surgeons to increase business for both, and Teja says that he was thinking of me on the wire, all through the film, ha, ha, ha, as if it is very funny, for yes, I know I, who am barely able to keep my balance on flat earth could not very well be on a wire between the original Twin Towers, which alas are no more, however, ‘The Walk’ is not only about that, about Phillipe Petit’s walk on a wire between the 1 and 2 World Trade Centre, but about art itself, about the craziness, madness, that overpowers you, when you want to do something your own way and you don’t care about the money or about relationships or bleeding feet or being caught or time running out, but only about doing it your own way, and it’s only after 20-30 years when unfortunately you are wiser, or just older, or tired, that you think why did I bite off more than I could chew, but you were not thinking then. I am biting off more than I can chew even now and I always come home with mustard on the front of my shirt, and Dhanno teaches me all over again how one eats a burger, and I think the world is made up of only 2 kinds of people, those who can eat a burger without spilling and people like me who are eating bits and pieces of it off the table, hoping no one is looking, speeding things up, eating the burger faster and faster in a bid to finish it before it goes completely out of hand. And Dhanno has told me about the grip. Apparently there is a grip that will make sure that you never ever spill anything, however big your burger is. But I can never remember which finger goes where. And Dhanno by the way is 22 years old, and she is a lady, not a little girl as many readers of the blog may have been misled into thinking, because of course to Teja and me she is eternally the bratty 6-year-old, barging her way into any situation and being the centre of it. And to think once, you had that arrogance yourself, you imagined you could walk ropes and you did, and you fell, and you fought with everyone else, and you made up, and you conned people into becoming your accomplices and you did it again and again. And walking the wire is not too different from eating a burger or writing or making a film or running a company. There is always that moment when you lose sight of everything else, the people around you, the people behind you, the void below you, your dirty shirt, and there is only the wire and the clouds. And you walk, and you turn and you walk again, and turn and walk and turn and walk. It’s beautiful.

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