Category: Documentaries

  • The Dark Wizard Review

    Streaming on HBO (4-part series)

    IMDb rating: 8.4

    A shirtless man standing with his arms outstretched on a cliff, overlooking a vast mountainous landscape, promoting the HBO documentary 'The Dark Wizard'.

    It seems like the best documentaries make you feel conflicting emotions. That was definitely the case with “The Dark Wizard.” It’s directed by Peter Mortimer and Nick Rosen, the team behind Valley Uprising and The Alpinist, and the access they had is wild because they actually filmed Dean Potter for about a decade.

    If you’re not into climbing—and even if you watched Free Solo (2018)—you’ve probably never heard of him. Potter was a free solo climber, a highline walker, and a BASE jumper. Instead of tightrope walking between the Twin Towers (Man on Wire, 2008), with highline walking, the rope is strung between two cliffs hundreds of feet up. With no tether. Because that’s no fun. Wingsuit BASE jumping is jumping off a cliff wearing a wingsuit that turns the body into a virtual glider. If you want to see a cinematically stunning documentary about wingsuit jumping, you’ll get an adrenaline rush just from watching National Geographic’s Fly (2024).

    The doc opens with footage of one of Potter’s climbs that almost killed him and then loops back through his life using archival footage, his personal journals, and interviews with the people closest to him, including his sister Elizabeth, who is an executive producer on the series.

    What it’s really about

    For me, “The Dark Wizard” isn’t so much about the sport of climbing or what he did to advance it. It’s about what it costs a person who is compelled to the point of obsession to be the best. And nothing less is acceptable. Potter was tall, lean, intense, and almost from the beginning, he was convinced that he was destined to do something extraordinary. He moves to Yosemite as a young man, basically lives there, and reinvents what’s possible on those granite walls.

    You watch him pull off feats that don’t even seem real. Free soloing routes (that’s climbing without ropes) that experienced climbers wouldn’t touch with full gear. Walking a slackline over a thousand-foot drop with nothing underneath him. And he loses his balance but manages to catch himself and swing around to position his feet on the rope. Even typing this is making my hands clammy. Watching Potter hanging out in the space between alive and not-alive is jaw-dropping. Don’t watch this if you want to get to sleep any time soon.

    Here’s what got me. While he’s doing all this, he’s also keeping these private journals where he sounds like a completely different person. He sounds anxious and doubts himself, wondering why he can’t just be normal. The directors had access to those journals, and you can tell that even people who knew him well were surprised by what was inside.

    Bad Sport

    A big chunk of the middle is about Potter’s rivalry with Alex Honnold, who is younger, friendlier, more media-savvy, and on his way to becoming the climber the general public would actually recognize. (This was before “Free Solo” won the Oscar.) They’re both circling the same prize, which is being the first person to free solo El Capitan.

    Watching Potter handle that competition is rough. He isolates, gets paranoid, and picks fights with sponsors and friends. There’s a scene in China where he takes a highlining job, and as you watch it, you can tell it’s a bad idea.

    I wonder if what it took for him to keep pushing the limits made him edgy and brash, or if that’s how he was going to be this way, and the climbing was the only thing keeping the lid on. I so appreciate that the doc doesn’t pretend to know.

    A softer landing

    The fourth episode is the one that wrecked me. Late in his life, Dean meets Jen Rapp, and for a while, it seems like the noise in his head finally gets quieter. He even falls in love with his dog, Whisper, and he’s such a good dog dad, well, kind of. He’s still doing high-adrenaline stuff, like wingsuit flying (he’s now obsessed with wingsuit flying, which is the closest a human ever gets to actual flight), but you see him laugh, you see him be a person, you see him be loved. He’s softer in a good way.

    The final landing

    And then you watch him drive out to Taft Point. You know what’s coming. The director’s handling of it is restrained, without high drama. It’s not needed. A man who finally was surrounded by a loving, supportive family and seemed to be okay (but was he really?), until he couldn’t resist the pull of being number one. He must have reasoned away the compelling facts that pointed to the impossibility that he could ever overtake his fellow climber and BASE jumper, 29-year-old Graham Hunt.

    A few thoughts

    When they’d first met, Potter acted as a mentor to the younger Hunt. But Hunt progressed quickly, especially in BASE jumping, and flew through these “exits” of formations in Moab—something Potter was hoping to be the first to achieve. It’s like the mentee outperformed the mentor, and that reignited Potter’s fierce competitiveness, something he thought he’d outgrown.

    At the end, we see Potter’s Yellowstone buddies, who parted ways with him years before and were not on speaking terms. I wonder if Potter ever thought about apologizing to those early supporters and rekindling those friendships, or if his ego wouldn’t let him go there.

    I think about how hard it must have been to love somebody like Potter. I mean, I bet he was magnetic and interesting, but knowing his high tolerance for risk must have been stressful. And he was obviously an obsessed person. Take how he treated Whisper—how he went through the process of having a wingsuit made for him.

    This might come off as wrong, but one of the most poignant scenes was at the end when Jen approaches Whisper’s doghouse and has to coax him to come out. He’s grayer, wider, and oh so slow. But then, he totally leans against Jen’s leg and lets her love on him. What went through my head was, “Aw, why is he in a doghouse? He was sleeping with Potter in his bed in earlier footage. Isn’t he allowed in the house?” It’s so sad to see how depressed dogs get after losing their human.

    It was haunting how Potter seemed to begin his life in Yosemite and end it there.

    Your turn

    What was your experience watching this?

    What did you think of Potter? I didn’t like how describing him as an “alpha” was used to kind of excuse bad and controlling behavior at the beginning. And then the photographer guy seemed to be so quick to forgive—but that could be due to the power dynamic.

    Did you see those poor Chinese commentators not know what to do when he was endlessly sobbing?

    Do you think his depression played a part in his adrenaline-seeking behavior? I do.  

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  • #SKYKING Review

    A man wearing a headset and safety vest speaks into a microphone, with an airplane flying in the sky above him. The backdrop features a sunset.

    IMDB rating: 7.4

    Streaming on Hulu

    So, here’s what happened in 2018 at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. Twenty-eight-year-old Richard “Beebo” Russell steals an empty commercial plane while he’s on duty as an airport ground worker for Horizon Air (a subsidiary of Alaska Air Group).

    You’ll see security footage of him climbing onto the plane while it’s moving and pulling the door closed behind him. And then you hear air traffic control calmly freaking out because nobody’s supposed to be on that Bombardier Q400 turboprop. What unfolds next is the 70 white-knuckle minutes captured on the cockpit audio between Beebo and the air traffic controller.

    An interaction where Beebo sounds nonchalant and even jokes around plays for a few minutes. The next scene shows the pain and disbelief washing over the faces of Beebo’s family and friends as they listen to the recording—some of them for the first time.

    It is heart-wrenching to watch Beebo’s loved ones—people who knew what he was about—look stunned one moment, laugh the next, and say, ” Yeah, that’s typical Beebo,” and look completely wrecked a few moments later.

    Not long into the documentary, you understand their devastation.

    What it’s really about

    For me, “Sky King” is less about the feat of stealing a commercial plane by a non-pilot and more about what led up to such a desperate act. Beebo was that boy in high school who managed to be the class clown, an all-around athlete, homecoming king, and walked his faith. He looked and sounded like the all-American boy next door with a paper route (when they had those) and who would offer to mow your lawn.

    I don’t know why, but I was surprised to learn that Beebo was married. It looked like the relationship was at a soulmate level. This guy even interrupted his college studies to help his wife realize her dream of owning and running a bakery. The doc hints at the business not being financially sustainable, and how his in-laws wanted them to move to Seattle to be closer. It was clear to Beebo that he needed to do better to support their daughter. It’s also clear that he doesn’t come from a connected, well-to-do family that can open some doors, introduce him to the right people.

    Not even minimum wage

    Still, Beebo was determined to meet those expectations. He was set on advancing to management at Horizon Air. His boss told him that he needed to finish his education to even be considered for a promotion. While he was doing that, Beebo maintained an upbeat attitude, even though he was paid less than minimum wage. Can you imagine that? I didn’t even think that was legal. Despite that, he did all the things—training new employees, talking up the company, and staying away from drama. A coworker said that Beebo separated himself from the group gathered around a table at lunch, and sat in a corner reading a book while they joked and grumbled and ate. When that same coworker quit and went to a better job, he asked the Beebo to join him. Beebo declined, believing it was just a matter of time before he was promoted.

    Degree in hand and having finally jumped through all the hoops, Beebo approached his manager, who said, “Sorry (not sorry), we just promoted somebody else.” We later learn that friends and family conjecture that management considered Beebo “white trash,” not someone they’d ever promote.

    In the cockpit

    As the doc moves along, you’re getting to know Beebo at a very intimate level, starting from childhood. Your understanding of who he is deepens as the cockpit audio advances.

    It is ridiculous how likable Beebo is. I guarantee you know somebody just like him. His frequent bouts of vomiting and comments about not hurting anybody show you that he may have had a really bad lapse in judgment, but that he is a good person through and through. In turns, Beebo jokes, he’s curious (to the point of asking the air traffic controller how he got his job), he’s paranoid, he’s elated, he’s polite, and he’s worried about the people who love him.

    It’s only until he is in the cockpit that he realizes he’s a broken man.

    The real question

    What external and internal forces led such a good guy to do this?

    I think that he was of sound mind in the sense that he knew exactly what he was doing and the consequences of his actions.

    Maybe it was the only way that he could clearly and loudly send a message to the world about how he was wronged without going to work and shooting everybody up.

    And even if we had all the answers, would anybody do anything meaningful to ensure that never happens again, short of increased security?

    What I haven’t talked about

    I’ve tried to be careful to not give away the ending. But I will tell you that it’s a rollercoaster ride of emotions. It left me shattered and in awe at the same time. You’ll see, or you’ll know why.

    I haven’t talked about the internet memes or interpreting what he said about being Black or his marriage.

    I’d love to hear about what you think, though, and address those things and anything else that way.

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