Parky At the Pictures (28/8/2026)

(Reviews of Hanging By a Wire; and Landship)

HANGING BY A WIRE.

You know there's going to be trouble when Robert Mitchum, Linda Darnell, and the sinister Jack Palance board the cable car linking the Latin American mountain village of Le Cumbre with the town of San Cristóbal in Rudolph Maté's Second Chance (1953). Similarly, you fear the worst when a dastardly villain named Olsen traps Lady Penelope and Tin-Tin inside a gondola servicing the Paradise Peaks Hotel in Switzerland in the 1966 Thunderbirds episode, `The Cham-Cham'. But the events related by Pakistani documentarist Mohammed Ali Naqvi in Hanging By a Wire are all true and, even if you already know the outcome, they make for discomfiting viewing. Yet, the film this mix of drone shots, talking heads, and dramatic reconstructions most brings to mind is Billy Wilder's Ace in the Hole (1951).

At 7:30am on Tuesday, 22 August 2023, eight people boarded a cable car from the mountain village of Jhangra in the Battagram region of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Province. During the course of what should have been a 10-minute journey, two of the three mile-long wires securing the gondola snapped, leaving the passengers, six of whom were schoolboys, dangling at a 45° angle, some 900ft over the Allai Valley. Fathers Umraiz Khan and Abdul Quyyam recall hearing the sound of the cables shearing and how concerned they were for the safety of their sons, Irfan (14) and Rizwan (15).

Car mechanic Gul Faraz (21) used his phone to send messages urging people to spread the news about their plight and the social media posts came to the attention of journalist Sumaira Khan, who had grown up in the area and knew that the authorities would be slow to act. Using footage captured by an anonymous local drone operator, her reports were picked up by international networks and a previously overlooked area of Pakistan became the focus of the watching world.

District police chief Sonia Shamroz co-ordinated the emergency response, while DSP Muhammad Nazir attended the scene. It was now 10:00am and intimate drone shots of the eight passeners inside the rickety gondola had heightened the gravity of the situation. Fear among the villagers was also turning to anger, as there was no sign of a rescue attempt being mounted. When one local started to edge along the cable on a device of his own making, he was persuaded to return lest he made things worse. It was then that someone contacted cable car expert Sahib Khan, a `mandghan' or `sky pirate', whose Koka company had performed rescues in the past.

His plan was to skim along the cable on a $15 harness, but Shamroz decided that he would only add to the weight being placed on the wire and he was denied access. He claims he was stopped because he was poor, but Shamroz insists she was simply trying to minimise the risk to the passengers. Instead, she called in helicopter pilot, Lieutenant Colonel Zain Ali, who reached the scene around midday. Having flown over the gondola and attempted to lower a soldier to gauge a rescue strategy, Ali realised that the downdraft was rocking the car and he withdrew.

A second chopper arrived two hours later and succeeded in lowering a rope harness to the car in the hope of winching the passengers to safety. Irfan called his father to say that he was going to jump first and hoped he would make it. Umraiz reveals that his son put the harness on wrong and had to grip hold of the rope. Phone footage shows him dangling perilously, but he made it safely and appears as a bearded young man to confirm the fact and confide that he is still haunted by his ordeal.

As Ali admits that the rescue was as exciting as it was satisfying, Shamroz confirms that the decision was taken to use the same methods to recover the remaining passengers. At 16:30, however, the rope became entangled with the cable and had to be cut because the gondola was lilting. Realising sunset was approaching, Shamroz recognised that she needed another solution and contact was made with gym owner, model, and zip wire specialist Muhammad Ali Swati, who styled himself `Adventure Boy'.

Much to the dismay of his father, Aslam, he had been rejected by the army and saw this mission with assistant Muhammad Ilyas as a way of restoring his reputation within the family. By the time he arrived, however, Sahib and his cousin, Hassanzeb, had trekked to the other side of the valley and were preparing to embark upon their own rescue bid. With darkness falling and a wind blowing, Sahib took 40 minutes to reach the cable car. But he was able to attach the harness to Niaz (17), who was pulled to safety by Hassanzeb.

Swati recalls the chaos on the other side of the valley, as the locals had lost patience with the authorities, who had no idea what Sahib was planning and were worried that the remaining passengers woule be stranded in the cold overnight. So, as soon as Niaz reached safety (to the relief of father Umar Zeib), Shamroz told Sahib to suspend his operation, as it was deemed to dangerous to continue. Swati and Ilyas were given the go ahead, however, and they set off on their zipline around 19:00, knowing that the cable was damaged and that time was not on their side.

After half an hour, they reached the gondola and were appalled to see Sahib on the roof. Following an exchange of words with Swati, he helped Ilyas fit the boys inside with harnesses. Swati then set off with three of them attached to him. However, the rope at the ledge had become entangled in a tree and somebody had to climb up and saw off the branch - thus, leaving Swati and his charges stranded on the cable. Deciding to pull himself by hand, he made about 400m before he started to tire and they shot backwards when he let do of the rope. On camera, Swati admits he thought they were going to smash into the car, but they suddenly stopped.

Luckily, the trees had acted as a brake and Swati was relieved that the people on the ledge started to pull them back. However, the rope was still around his arm and each tug tightened its grip. He shouted for them to stop, so he could free himself, but they couldn't hear him. As soon as they relaxed the tension, however, Swati's group shot back down the cable again and only just came to a halt short of the gondola. Having ridden their luck again, they were pulled to safety and Abdul Quyyam recalls his relief that Rizwan was back on land, along with Gul Faraz (who is his brother), and Sher Nawaz (20). Uncle and nephew remember sobbing, while Sher vowed to sacrifice a goat to give thanks for being saved. Sombre and heavily bearded, he confirms that he kept his promise.

Back in the gondola, Ilyas tried to keep Ibrar (14), Usama (15), and Attaullah (16) calm by taking selfies. As Swati knew he had broken his arm, he found a Special Forces volunteer, who had a walkie-talkie to maintain contact in case there were problems. Sahib opted to return on his own, as he didn't want anyone to say that he had been rescued. The remaining boys speak briefly on camera to reflect on their experience, while Swati speaks of his pride in Ilyas and his happiness that his father commended him. Sahib had to wait for his cousin to come and fetch him, as he had given all his equipment to the kids. But he is also pleased that people like him, even though he denies he's a hero.

Over news footage, captions explain how Sahib and Swati were given medals, while Shamroz became the first woman in her district to become an Assistant Inspector General of Police. The boys express their gratitude, but regret that the cable car still hangs across the valley and has not been replaced - although Irfan says he would never use it. They also thank the media for creating the swell that forced the arm of the authorities. But they are not mentioned, which speaks volumes in itself.

Anyone with memories of this harrowing incident will be keen to learn what went on behind the scenes. Director Mohammed Ali Naqvi makes telling use of the primary footage recorded on mobile phones and by the drone camera. But he is somewhat hamstrung by the fact that darkness prevented onlookers from filming and, as a result, all of the nocturnal rescue scenes are reconstructions. While these are competently done, they lack the urgency and rawness of the first-hand accounts.

More damagingly, Sven Faulconer's score is bombastically melodramatic and plays against any suspense that Will Grayburn might have built up through his thoughtful editing. But Naqvi's judgement might also be questioned, whether in his gambit of presenting Umraiz Khan and Abdul Quyyam as grieving fathers or in his decision to say nothing about the arrest of the cable car owner and the fact that there isn't a single item online about any prosecution for ignoring safety measures. He also opts against showing the central government's response to the emergency and skips over its ramifications for a remote and impoverished community.

Furthermore, as the film only runs for 77 minutes, surely an opportunity has been missed to explore why the police and the military only had limited success in rescuing the trapped passengers when a couple of working-class mavericks saved the day? Naqvi should have said more about the tensions between Sahib and Swati and might also have had someone address whether he or the various global news stations he quotes would have touched this story if it had ended in plummeting tragedy rather than nail-biting triumph, like the 2010 Copiapó mine and 2018 Tham Luang cave incidents.

It's also puzzling why the adult members of the party are given such short shrift, when they were in as much danger as the schoolboys, and were in a better position to describe the mood within the gondola during a 14-hour ordeal. Granted, the emphasis is on the rescuers, but the suspense would have been much greater if we had heard more from the teenagers and less from their parents. Similarly, having established Sumaira Khan's part in publicising the crisis, Naqvi says nothing about any reporting from the scene and little about how Sonia Shamroz got her information and how she came to any of the decisions that shaped the race-against-time rescue.

Noting that the city folk speak in English, while the locals use Urdu or Pashto, Naqvi is an Emmy-nominated producer/director and has such acclaimed titles as Shame (2006), Among the Believers (2015), and The Accused: Damned or Devoted (2020) to his credit. But this manipulative account is never as gripping as E. Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin's The Rescue (2021), recalling instead Marco Orsini's Beyond the Raging Sea (2019) in its inability to present a compelling episode with the ingenuity, insight, and immediacy to keep the viewer on the edge of their seat.

LANDSHIP.

Since he started out with the shorts, Fusilier (2013), and The Flying Squad (2015). Callum Burn has become a one-man chronicler of the Second World War through the features, Lancaster Skies (2019), Spitfire Over Berlin, (2022), and Battle Over Britain (2023). It's not entirely a solo operation, however, as father Arthur Burn also plays a key role in running Tin Hat Productions, who turn their attention to the Great War in Landship.

An opening caption sets the scene with a reference to the start of the Battle of Passchendaele on 31 July 1917. Early in the morning of 22 August, the eight-man crew of Mark IV Tank F41 meets its new skipper. Captain Donald Richardson (Vin Hawke) urges `Fray Bentos' to make some mischief on the frontline.

As the tank rumbles across No Man's Land in support of the 61st Division, there's a tense silence and only a prayer for protection can be heard during a fraught encounter with the Imperial German enemy near St Julien. There's relief rather than euphoria, as the machine-guns stop. However, the tank comes under fire again and Second Lieutenant George Hill (David Dobson) falls from the controls after he's hit in the neck. Privates William Morrey (Jack Sherlock) and Percy Budd (Ricky Oakley) are also wounded.

In an effort to steer, Richardson pitches Fray Bentos into a hollow. Sergeant Robert Missen (Matthew Canny) and Private Ernest Braedy (Nadav Burstein) climb on to the roof to fetch the unditching beams. Missen is forced back inside by a fusillade, but Braedy was less fortunate. Budd has been knocked cold and he comes round to the news that Braedy has been lost. As the Germans continue to attack, Private James Binley (Mickey David) lets it be known that he distrusts Richardson and is ordered to remain at his post on the Lewis gun, even though it's impossible to get clean shots off at the enemy trench.

Determined to show leadership, Richardson takes a shufti outside and shoots an encroaching German soldier. He reveals that the officers have promised Iron Crosses for the capture of a British tank. However, Fray Bentos is also being hit by friendly fire and the deeply religious Missen offers to return to the lines to tell the brass about their plight. Morrey claims it's suicide to venture outside, but he is silenced with the threat of a charge and Hill wishes Missen good luck in his mission. Hearing shots, Private Frederick Arthurs (Sam Dowdy) and the rest of the crew fear the worst and Morrey unleashes a volley of bullets in fury and is reprimanded for wasting ammunition.

The next morning, a grenade is tossed inside the tank and they are lucky to survive without further injuries. Morrey wants to drain the radiator, but Richardson insists they need the power because they can still serve a useful purpose by firing at the enemy. Morrey's mood isn't improved when it becomes clear that the infantry are not going to come and relieve them and Hill has to intervene to prevent another exchange with Richardson.

When the Germans launch another attack, the captain fights heroically at the hatch. But Private Ernest Hayton (Daniel Cornish) screams in shellshocked terror and Binley accuses Richardson of not caring what happens to his men. The commanding officer passes out and appears to have a vision of himself prowling in the murk with his revolver primed, only to be clubbed over the head by a German in a gas mask.

When he comes round, he's helped to his feet by Morrey and thanks Binley for oiling and loading his pistol. Sensing a shift in the tone, Richardson passes round his hip flask and jokes about what his wife would say if she could see him before he makes a toast to the long road home.

The Germans send Captain Henrichsen (Jeffrey Mundell) to offers surrender terms. He carries a white flag and Braedy's sketchbook, but Richardson refuses to make a deal that would betray the honour of the finest tank crew in the British Army. They brace themselves for an attack and Richardson comes face to face with Henrichsen. He pulls a gun, only to be shot by Brinley. Returning to their own lines, the crew make provision for Fray Bentos to be defended by the 9th Battalion The Black Watch. We learn that the crew was the most decorated in the entire war, although Budd would be killed on 25 August 1918 at the age of 22. By contrast, Richardson lived to be 84 and passed away in 1977.

He's depicted stereotypically and played with stiffness extending well beyond his upper lip by Vin Hawke, although he manages to exude a little charisma after chief critics Binley and Morrey recognise the strain he's under. The performances are all rather rigid, although the actors aren't helped by the fact that the screenplay by Burn père et fils plunges straight into the action without pausing to introduce the crew members and establish their personalities and friendships and/or rivalries. As they are all strangers, it's hard for the audience to tell them apart in the confines of the tank cabin, let alone root for them. We're not even told how suited Richardson is to command a tank that we are assured is on a crucial mission.

This is also very vaguely outlined, with no explanation being given of either the strategic importance of tanks on the Western Front or the dangers they faced from abandoned trenches and the howitzer-scarred topography of No Man's Land, let alone from shelling and machine-gun fire. The Burns also neglect to reveal why so many men were needed in such a confined space and what they all did. As this is an historical recreation of the Fray Bentos's mission, such details would seem necessary, if only to pay respectful tribute to each crew member.

Nevertheless, Callum Burn - who had previously covered the topic in the 2014 short, Fray Bentos - demonstrates how primitive and cumbersome the first generation of tanks were and what risks their crews took in manoeuvring them across treacherous terrain. He also creates a sense of claustrophobia and uncertainty within the tank by keeping Sean Parsons's camera close to the players. He also makes deft use of the murk to avoid having to go to the expense of creating rutted expanses of barbed-wire wilderness and hiring lots of enemy extras. However, as in previous outings, such thriftiness inevitably exposes the film's budgetary limitations and rather curbs its ambition. But Tin Hat is doing a fine job in ensuring that the sacrifices made by our forefathers in order to keep Britain free and democratic will not be forgotten, even if its passionately made pictures don't necessarily get widely seen.