Review: Man on a Ledge

It sounds interesting enough: A man named Nick Cassidy checks into a hotel early in the morning, orders breakfast, jots down his thoughts on a piece of paper, opens the window and climbs out onto the ledge, presumably to jump to his death.

But Nick doesn't seem to be troubled in the least about his predicament, and it takes only a few moments before we realize something is up.

This "something" is the major plot hole that is the plot of Man on a Ledge. While Nick is on the precipice between life and death, already 21 stories closer to his maker, his brother - who, as far as we can tell, has never committed a crime before - is staging the robbery of the century inside a major jewelry firm, complete with bombs, fancy drills, liquid nitrogen and tricks straight out of the Mission: Impossible playbook. This firm is located just a stone's throw from where Nick is hanging out.

And so, we learn the entire "man on a ledge" spiel is merely a gimmick for the other part of the plot, the one that is much more attention-grabbing. But it is truly dreadful that the film's centerpiece, which gives the camera every excuse to inspire fear and awe at once by being pointed straight down from 200 feet up on multiple occasions, has no raison d'etre. Logically, it just doesn't make sense that the heist could not have been staged at night time, or that Nick himself could not have participated.

The film desperately tries to create tension by pretending that certain actions must take place by certain times, or else Nick and his brother will be caught red-handed. This could all have been made infinitely simpler if Nick chose to drop his act altogether and take part in the heist himself.

The reason for this ledge-sitting does become clear eventually, and it is presented with bewildering seriousness despite its unnecessary existence: Nick and a female police negotiator are brought together and, somehow, by virtue of them both being outsiders on the police force (Nick used to be a policeman, until he was found guilty of stealing a giant diamond from the aforementioned jewelry firm), they join forces to unmask the corruption in the ranks.

Sam Worthington, who plays Nick, has tried to dull down the Aussie accent that comes more naturally to him, but since Nick is supposed to be Irish-American, he ends up in an odd linguistic no man's land. His brother, played by the British actor Jamie Bell, is much more adept at this line of vocal work, and gives us a second reason to wish he had a larger role in the film.

When it comes to characters that are negotiators, the 1998 film The Negotiator, with Kevin Spacey and Samuel L. Jackson, remains the manual, but this role in Man on a Ledge is thoroughly wasted in the form of Elizabeth Banks. Likeable she may be, but a combination of media frenzy, gender discrimination and a tragic incident a month earlier all conspire to elicit our sympathy for her and the result is a repulsive sense of unsuccessful manipulation.

Instead of drawing on The Negotiator, director Asger Leth thought it would be funny to put in a reference to a film that is way out of his league, by having someone in the crowd of onlookers start yelling "Attica!" Such a reference to the notorious prison riot in 1971 is not only outdated but sadly out of place in a film that is not worthy of a comparison with the classic 1970s hostage drama, Dog Day Afternoon, which featured this term that, in its time, was loaded and rousing.

Man on a Ledge should have been pushed off the ledge in pre-production. The interesting premise is badly executed, with grand ideas of a big heist slathered on, without any consideration for the basic workings of the plot. The film tries to be clever by ignoring all the build-up to the big day - the day when Nick was arrested, the entire month leading up to him looking down at his potentially literal downfall - but these events would have given crucial weight to the story.

The film's dead weight prevents it from rising to the occasion and delivering on its setup.

André Crous can be reached at
acrous@praguepost.com