B+Directed by Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin Review by Jon Kissel |  |
As far as physical human accomplishments go, the climbing of El Capitan, Yosemite Park’s 3000-foot monolith, without the aid of ropes or hooks or anything beyond calloused fingers is considerable. The act signifies a kind of schoolyard one-upmanship when the peak of Everest is clogged with tourists who risk death, not so much from climbing the mountain but from freezing in long lines as they wait to take their picture at the top. Climber Alex Honnold literally takes his life into his own hands as he thumbs his nose at these poseur-adventurers, and, in an incredible feat of filmmaking, directors Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin are right there with him as claws his way to the top. Free Solo chronicles the how of this outlandish feat in spectacular, vertigo-inducing fashion, but it also captures the why. The camera is not only in Honnold’s face during his climb, but it also interrogates the specific kind of person who would do something like this, refusing to be satisfied with stock ‘because it’s there’ shorthand.
The ascent up El Capitan is saved for the last act, and what precedes it plays like the planning stages of a heist film. Honnold has the meticulous nature of a Michael Mann criminal mastermind. He leaves no outcome unplanned for because for him, just like Neal McCauley in Heat, the stakes could not be higher. In preparation, Honnold breaks out the gear to make repeated climbs to the top, testing out the various ledges and the acrobatic leaps needed to reach them and logging them in piles of notebooks, all of which he must memorize before going up. Vasarhelyi and Chin are there in close-up to find the miniscule finger holds Honnold has to rely on, or to visually gauge the distance between one outcropping and the next. The balletic routine is mind-boggling not only in its physical exertion but in the probable mental strain it inflicts as well.
One says probable because the film applies pop psychology to depict Honnold as a person who could very well have a steady heartbeat even as he climbs a dangerous mountain. Functional MRI scans reveal that he has a dead amygdala, meaning he has no appreciation of risk. He does have an appreciation of reward, as reaching various peaks is easily compared to drug addiction. The neurological root causes are put next to Freudian ones, as it’s suggested that Honnold had a bad relationship with his now-dead father, and all these ascents are futile efforts to get him to say he’s proud of his son. The film is at its weakest in these attempts to therapize Honnold, an on-the-spectrum type who describes himself of having to learn and relearn how to hug people well into his twenties. The many awkward high-fives he gives people are evidence enough of his otherworldliness, to say nothing of his insane goals.
Conversely, Free Solo is at its best when it’s not exalting in human achievement, but asking what is the real cost or potential outcome of not only the climb itself, but the film as well. Honnold is no island, drifting through the world free of connection. In the very real outcome of his death, which many other free climbers like him have suffered, Vasarhelyi and Chin will have witnessed it, his friends and fans will experience the pain of his absence, and his put-upon girlfriend will have a ration of trauma to deal with. He’s playing dice with his life and their grief, no matter how much preparation he puts into the endeavor. Additionally, the directors are aware of the observer effect, such that they worry about the chance that their presence might cause Honnold to do something he otherwise wouldn’t out of an attempt to ‘save’ the film, and subsequently take the plunge. There’s also the likelihood that the considerable success of Free Solo will encourage other free climbers, some of whom will end their lives as a stain on a forest floor. This film is in active discussion about its existence, a meta wrinkle that one doesn’t expect from documentaries about this topic.
That Free Solo exists at all is proof that Honnold does not die during his climb, but one wonders where this all ends. Who’ll be the first free climber to do this blindfolded, or fastest, or nude? Honnold is the first to attempt something, a space usually reserved for heroic acts, but it’s hard to leave Free Solo with admiration for this guy, a surprise that elevates the film that captures his feat. The film contains a Herzogian shot of a deer watching Honnold do his thing, and one wants to believe that this animal is just as baffled by what it’s taking in as this viewer. Maybe that deer was taking a break from going mano a ciervo with a hunter, staring down his rifle sights and trying if he could leap out of the way at the last second, just to see if could. Maybe Honnold nodded back at this daredevil deer, recognizing more of himself in it than he does in earthbound humans who would no sooner climb an obelisk than grow antlers. In that moment, there’s a sense that the deer’s content, but that Honnold never will be. Free Solo manages to both exalt and pity its subject, and look damn great in the process. B+
One says probable because the film applies pop psychology to depict Honnold as a person who could very well have a steady heartbeat even as he climbs a dangerous mountain. Functional MRI scans reveal that he has a dead amygdala, meaning he has no appreciation of risk. He does have an appreciation of reward, as reaching various peaks is easily compared to drug addiction. The neurological root causes are put next to Freudian ones, as it’s suggested that Honnold had a bad relationship with his now-dead father, and all these ascents are futile efforts to get him to say he’s proud of his son. The film is at its weakest in these attempts to therapize Honnold, an on-the-spectrum type who describes himself of having to learn and relearn how to hug people well into his twenties. The many awkward high-fives he gives people are evidence enough of his otherworldliness, to say nothing of his insane goals.
Conversely, Free Solo is at its best when it’s not exalting in human achievement, but asking what is the real cost or potential outcome of not only the climb itself, but the film as well. Honnold is no island, drifting through the world free of connection. In the very real outcome of his death, which many other free climbers like him have suffered, Vasarhelyi and Chin will have witnessed it, his friends and fans will experience the pain of his absence, and his put-upon girlfriend will have a ration of trauma to deal with. He’s playing dice with his life and their grief, no matter how much preparation he puts into the endeavor. Additionally, the directors are aware of the observer effect, such that they worry about the chance that their presence might cause Honnold to do something he otherwise wouldn’t out of an attempt to ‘save’ the film, and subsequently take the plunge. There’s also the likelihood that the considerable success of Free Solo will encourage other free climbers, some of whom will end their lives as a stain on a forest floor. This film is in active discussion about its existence, a meta wrinkle that one doesn’t expect from documentaries about this topic.
That Free Solo exists at all is proof that Honnold does not die during his climb, but one wonders where this all ends. Who’ll be the first free climber to do this blindfolded, or fastest, or nude? Honnold is the first to attempt something, a space usually reserved for heroic acts, but it’s hard to leave Free Solo with admiration for this guy, a surprise that elevates the film that captures his feat. The film contains a Herzogian shot of a deer watching Honnold do his thing, and one wants to believe that this animal is just as baffled by what it’s taking in as this viewer. Maybe that deer was taking a break from going mano a ciervo with a hunter, staring down his rifle sights and trying if he could leap out of the way at the last second, just to see if could. Maybe Honnold nodded back at this daredevil deer, recognizing more of himself in it than he does in earthbound humans who would no sooner climb an obelisk than grow antlers. In that moment, there’s a sense that the deer’s content, but that Honnold never will be. Free Solo manages to both exalt and pity its subject, and look damn great in the process. B+
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