The ‘Skywalkers’ Who Fell in Love While Risking Death ‘Rooftopping’

PARK CITY, Utah—If Free Solo and Man on Wire made you queasy, then prepare to have your stomach churn, your heart race and your palms go sweaty with Skywalkers: A Love Story, writer/director Jeff Zimbalist’s breathtaking and nerve-wracking documentary about two daredevils whose fondness for pushing themselves—and their death-defying vocation—to the absolute limit winds up bringing them together. A vertiginous non-fiction film that demands the biggest screen possible, it’s a thriller, a heist caper, and a surprisingly moving romance all in one, and it seems destined to be one of the breakout hits of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Skywalkers: A Love Story concerns “rooftopping,” the modern practice of ascending to urban structures’ apexes without the use of harnesses, complicated gear or safety nets. Think of it as a cross between free solo climbing and parkour, with all the insane hazards such a hobby naturally entails. Zimbalist’s film concerns two expert Russian practitioners of this pastime, Angela Nikolau and Ivan Beerkus, she the daughter of circus performers and he a risk-taker with a technician’s gift for making it to the tops of famous international skyscrapers, stadiums, and churches. In both cases, they don’t just triumphantly execute their feats—they record them with GoPro cameras affixed to their heads for you-are-there views of their endeavors, as well as drones for gorgeous panoramic photographs and videos of them standing high above civilization. Such images are tailor-made for social media, and Angela and Ivan quickly became celebrities in their out-there subculture—and, thus, aware of each other’s achievements.

Given that it requires tremendous physical skill and, in Angela’s case, often concludes with stylish fashion model-esque posing and dexterous acrobatics, “rooftopping” comes across as a mixture of art and sport. Regardless of labels, though, it’s terrifying to see in action, and courtesy of footage shot by Angela and Ivan (as well as its own original material), Skywalkers: A Love Story affords an endless supply of harrowing first-person perspectives as the two scale building exteriors, scaffolding, cranes, and spires. The film puts you right in the thick of the madness from the get-go and never lets up, boasting countless sequences from Angela and Ivan’s POVs as they move step-by-step up tiny constricting walkways, pull each other up over outcroppings, and sit on stratospheric ledges, their legs dangling in the midday breeze with nothing below except distant streets and their vehicles and pedestrians.

On a purely visceral level, Skywalkers: A Love Story is a cinematic rollercoaster that constantly dares you to keep watching, and not only do its spellbinding sights never get old, but they generate suspense despite it being rather clear, from the outset, that Angela and Ivan are still alive. Zimbalist begins his saga at the end, with the duo fleeing security guards and taking shelter in a makeshift construction-area “cave” for hours on end while trying to accomplish the most amazing act of their career: reaching the summit of the Merdeka 118 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, the world’s second-tallest building, whose name denotes its number of floors (minus its intimidatingly high spire). Thought to be one of the last true mega-skyscrapers to be built any time soon, it appears to have been constructed as a direct challenge to rooftoppers, and as Angela and Ivan discover, it’s even harder to surreptitiously climb than it looks.

Scheduled for the day of the World Cup finale (so security presence will be light), the pair’s Merdeka 118 undertaking comprises the latter half of Skywalkers: A Love Story, and it plays like Man on Fire on steroids, with Angela and Ivan facing one obstacle after another, including the ever-present threat of capture and imprisonment. Before that, however, Zimbalist uses a wealth of home movies and narration from both his subjects to tell the distinct and, then, entangled tales of Angela and Ivan, two loners whose unlikely rooftopping partnership blossomed into amour.

Taught by her beloved grandmother that “you can only rely on yourself,” Angela enters into their arrangement more hesitantly. Ivan, on the other hand, quickly assumes a protector role that comforts and encourages Angela, at least until she begins to feel that his concern for her well-being is an attempt to control and stifle her. Sponsorships and social-media popularity make them niche stars, especially once they reveal themselves online as a couple. Yet their underlying interpersonal frictions are soon exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic, which puts a halt to their globe-trotting escapades and, in doing so, threatens their relationship. Later, the war in Ukraine proves another source of stress on their hearts, minds, and vocation.

Angela and Ivan’s voiceover can occasionally sound too scripted, spelling out their dynamics in overly expository terms. Nonetheless, Skywalkers: A Love Story engagingly details the intertwined nature of their professional and personal lives. For all its many visions of its protagonists doing the unthinkable, perhaps its most affecting moments are those that find Angela and Ivan vulnerable and afraid—natural reactions to repeatedly walking a razor-thin tightrope over a fatal abyss. Far from simply cocksure twentysomethings, the two are phenomenally (some, like Ivan’s parents, might say foolishly) confident but also aware that they’re courting horrifying peril. Therefore, when Angela has an uncharacteristic panic attack during a trip up a stadium’s winding beams, the film bolsters engagement with them and their crazy enterprise.

Skywalkers: A Love Story provides one nail-biting sequence after another, and in its final passages, it generates dizzying tension from the couple’s efforts to conquer Merdeka 118 and, as a result, figure out a way to heal their fraught union. Climaxing with a top-of-the-world performance that’s spectacular for being the culmination of their emotional as well as literal journey, Zimbalist’s doc is an up-close-and-personal portrait of two people navigating the outer edges of existence, along the way locating the strength to be themselves and the courage to recognize that they’re more balanced, capable, and whole by each other’s side. Films about risking it all (for self-actualization, glory, freedom, and love) have rarely been this exciting—or successful at convincing audiences, as the opening text advises, to “not attempt to imitate” these “extremely dangerous and illegal activities.”