Directors: Jeff Zimbalist, Maria Bukhonina
Writer: Jeff Zimbalist
Stars: Angela Nikolau, Ivan Beerkus
Synopsis: A daring couple travels worldwide to climb the 118-story megatall skyscraper, Merdeka 118, in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, attempting a bold acrobatic stunt on the spire to salvage both their career and relationship.
We have reached a point in the cinema timeline where documentary films have become akin to scripted reality television. At the very least, that is what Skywalkers: A Love Story feels like, to the extent that almost every non-sky-scraper image seems staged. I couldn’t shake this feeling as the camera continued to capture random shots of the subjects walking through airports and parks and gazing out of windows as if caught in thought.
As one of the subjects of the Netflix Documentary Skywalkers: A Love Story states, everyone keeps their eyes on the flyer, not the catcher. In this equation, directors Jeff Zimbalist and Maria Bukhonina want us to keep our eyes on their daredevil stunts’ highly stylized lyrical artistry. However, the overproduced and overwritten subplots in between make for a forced drama by the catcher that has less authenticity than you’d expect.
In short, how can such a dangerous subject of a film play it so safe?
For instance, the two subjects of the documentary, Angela Nikolau and Ivan Beerkus, consistently film scenes where they hide in a secured building from construction workers or security. Despite being in hiding, they film and keep bright lights on, even when we are led to believe people are just a few feet away. It’s implausible that no one would notice the bright lights that shouldn’t be there, just around the corner.
Additionally, there are several scenes where they are running away through stairwells and tripping, making it difficult to discern their location. This lack of context does not help the viewer understand the situation or build the necessary trust to create suspense. In scenes meant to generate excitement, the filmmakers have the stars explicitly tell us what they will do before they do it, which undermines the suspense.
The approach feels scripted even in the more personal moments, such as discussing their relationship struggles and showing a disagreement during a high-rise stunt. Let us, the audience, experience the journey with them rather than feeling like we are reading a script in a read-through.
That being said, Skywalkers: A Love Story has its moments, and some are truly exquisite. The awe-inspiring and breathtaking cinematography is breathtaking, and the director of photography team—Renato Serrano, Pablo Rojas, Beerkus, and Nikolau—deserves plenty of credit for their work here. It may be the best from a documentary since the Academy Award-winning Free Solo.
There will undoubtedly be those who take exception to how the filmmakers, using Zimbalist’s reality-television treatment of a script, glorify highly dangerous and exceedingly unlawful acts. While I don’t necessarily have a massive issue with this, the film lacks a disclaimer. Additionally, and probably my main complaint, the documentary does not do a good enough job portraying anything beyond superficial reasons for the stunts.
However, the depth and themes of directors Jeff Zimbalist and Maria Bukhonina’s film are nothing more than a social media reel or post that Nikolau and Beerkus do daily.
That’s not to say Skywalkers: A Love Story may not be worth your time because, at the very least, the film is entertaining. However, you might hesitate to recommend it, given the filmmakers’ higher expectations. Ironically, the film’s love story feels flat and contains the same clichés found in any romance depicted on screen. This includes the predictable resolution of their differences by the end of the second act, allowing them to continue their goal.
I wish documentaries like this one hadn’t become reality dating shows. Yet, we know films usually evolve with the times. We can still admire the sheer art and ambition of Skywalkers: A Love Story while being honest about its faults.
