The premise of Man on a Ledge is not very likely when it starts, and it only
gets progressively less likely the further it goes until it reaches an ending
that might as well have been written for a fantasy novel. This might not have
been a problem had the filmmakers gone all out and made it an escapist spy
thriller – say, something along the lines of James Bond. Unfortunately, it was
clear to me that they were taking this material seriously, and they actually
expected audiences to do the same. This applies, oddly enough, to moments of
levity so glaringly out of place that even listening to them is downright
embarrassing. In a movie like this, you can’t convincingly lighten a tense and
dramatic moment, especially when the dialogue is such that it wouldn’t pass
muster in a second-rate romantic comedy.
The film stars Sam Worthington, who’s a decent enough actor but probably
shouldn’t be relied upon for American roles. He’s not the best at faking the
accent it requires; his natural Australian voice will repeatedly surface
throughout the film, which only makes his character sound odd. He plays Nick
Cassedy, who begins the film by checking himself into a room at New York’s
Roosevelt Hotel, eating a meal, wiping everything he touched to remove
fingerprints, writing a brief note, opening the window, and stepping out onto a
narrow ledge. We then jump back in time one month, at which point we learn that
he escaped incarceration at Sing Sing when he was allowed to attend his father’s
funeral. We also learn that he was at one time a cop, adding even more intrigue.

Back to what I think is the present. A sizeable crowd has gathered at the
intersection below, causing gridlock and street closures. The police have gotten
involved and attempt to negotiate. As it turns out, there’s only one person Nick
is willing to speak to. Here enters Lydia Mercer (Elizabeth Banks), a
professional negotiator who, after failing to talk a cop out of jumping off a
bridge, has lost the respect of her peers. At this point, we learn that Nick was
imprisoned for stealing a large diamond; he’s now on the ledge in a desperate
attempt to prove his innocence. He claims that he was set up by the diamond’s
owner, a powerful tycoon named David Englander (Ed Harris), a vile and shallow
corporate typecast. Lydia initially doesn’t believe Nick, although the more he
talks, the more convincing he sounds. Is it possible that he’s telling her the
truth?
Meanwhile, Nick’s brother, Joey (Jamie Bell), and his girlfriend, Angie
(Genesis Rodriguez), have infiltrated the building across the street. Their
assignment: Break into Englander’s vault and find the diamond. At their disposal
are all manner of elaborate gadgets and gizmos, and of course, they will have to
have crawl through air ducts, descend into rooms on cables, sidestep
surveillance cameras and heat detectors, cut wires attached to alarms, and drill
through metal doors. Why the filmmakers felt the need to make part of this story
a Mission: Impossible rip off, I have no idea. It probably wouldn’t have been so
bad had Joey and Angie not been reduced to comedy relief; they repeatedly argue
and make flippant comments like a married couple in a badly written sitcom. Only
in a movie like this could something so inane be crossed with a jewel heist.
Other characters work their way into the story, playing their contrived
parts. There’s Nick’s former partner and friend, Mike Ackerman (Anthony Mackie).
There’s Jack Dougherty (Edward Burns), an obnoxious detective who does little
more than push Lydia’s buttons, even when he starts to take her seriously. And
then there’s Nathan Marcus (Titus Welliver), who has the tough-talking New York
cop stereotype down to a tee. The single most unnecessary character is a
scoop-hungry news reporter who, despite being white and blonde, is named Suzie
Morales – with heavy Hispanic emphasis on her last name. The fact that she’s
played by Kyra Sedgwick doesn’t shed any light on the issue.
I suspect the plot wasn’t intended to get more and more ridiculous as it
plays out, but that’s exactly what happens. The final quarter features two
twists, one of which was expected due to the conventions movies like this
operate under. The other was a genuine surprise, which isn’t to say it was
effective; it’s a turn of events so arbitrary and nonsensical that I’m wondering
if it was shot during post production and spliced in at the eleventh hour. But
the greatest offense of Man on a Ledge was its very unflattering depiction of
New Yorkers, who actively encourage Nick to jump and salivate greedily when Nick
makes it rain money. The comparisons to Dog Day Afternoon become unavoidable
when one of the onlookers, disgusted by the oppression of the everyman, actually
starts chanting, “Attica! Attica!”

|