Alex Honnold's daring climb up Taipei 101 in Netflix's Skyscraper Live has left viewers reeling with a mix of awe and unease. This unprecedented stunt marked the first time the unassisted ascent had been broadcast live, amplifying the risk factor for both the climber and the audience.
Honnold's reputation as a daredevil is well-established, thanks to his role in the documentary Free Solo. However, Skyscraper Live represents a significant escalation, stripping away any pretence of narrative or editing to create an unflinching, real-time experience. This meant that viewers were subjected to the raw emotion and tension of Honnold's climb, with no escape from the possibility of disaster.
The Taipei 101 skyscraper proved an ideal testbed for this high-stakes endeavour, featuring a series of increasingly treacherous stages that pushed Honnold to his limits. Even watching the final moments of the ascent left the author feeling queasy, as Honnold executed a heart-stopping 45-degree angle climb with minimal handholds.
While Skyscraper Live was undeniably an exhilarating spectacle, its reliance on mortality as entertainment raises uncomfortable questions about the nature of television programming. Should we be willing to tune in to events that carry the very real possibility of death? The author concludes that, for now, Netflix should keep this format a one-off.
However, the prospect of future live events that could result in human fatalities cannot be ignored. Will Skyscraper Live spawn a new genre of daredevil stunts that prioritise danger over caution? If so, the television industry risks courting a brand of morbid fascination that borders on exploitation. In this context, it's reassuring to know that the likes of Netflix are already taking steps to rein in such excesses.
Ultimately, Skyscraper Live serves as a sobering reminder of the limits of human endurance and the power of broadcast media to captivate – and unsettle – audiences.
Honnold's reputation as a daredevil is well-established, thanks to his role in the documentary Free Solo. However, Skyscraper Live represents a significant escalation, stripping away any pretence of narrative or editing to create an unflinching, real-time experience. This meant that viewers were subjected to the raw emotion and tension of Honnold's climb, with no escape from the possibility of disaster.
The Taipei 101 skyscraper proved an ideal testbed for this high-stakes endeavour, featuring a series of increasingly treacherous stages that pushed Honnold to his limits. Even watching the final moments of the ascent left the author feeling queasy, as Honnold executed a heart-stopping 45-degree angle climb with minimal handholds.
While Skyscraper Live was undeniably an exhilarating spectacle, its reliance on mortality as entertainment raises uncomfortable questions about the nature of television programming. Should we be willing to tune in to events that carry the very real possibility of death? The author concludes that, for now, Netflix should keep this format a one-off.
However, the prospect of future live events that could result in human fatalities cannot be ignored. Will Skyscraper Live spawn a new genre of daredevil stunts that prioritise danger over caution? If so, the television industry risks courting a brand of morbid fascination that borders on exploitation. In this context, it's reassuring to know that the likes of Netflix are already taking steps to rein in such excesses.
Ultimately, Skyscraper Live serves as a sobering reminder of the limits of human endurance and the power of broadcast media to captivate – and unsettle – audiences.
its like they wanna watch ppl push themselves 2 da limit, but at what cost? i mean alex honnold is a legend n all, but watching him do that was straight up nerve wracking 
. the fact that he had no safety net made me think twice about how much i wanted to keep watching. anywayz, its defo making ppl talk n i guess thats good 4 the platform or whatever
I'm literally still reeling from that climb 
45-degree angle with minimal handholds? That's insane! 
And the feeling of watching it live... it was like my stomach was in my throat the whole time 
. I get why they wanted to do this stunt live, but at the same time, is it really worth the risk? 
I don't think so, maybe just once as a one-off event 
. The thought of more events like this happening in the future makes me nervous 
. Can we just appreciate the stunts without the live broadcast aspect? 
. Anyway, I'm all for pushing boundaries and taking risks, but at what point does entertainment start to feel like exploitation? 
The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that this format needs to be a one-off... let's see how the industry responds before they start courting more danger and death 
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It was both super exciting and terrifying at the same time - my heart was racing while watching him 
. As someone who's always been fascinated by extreme sports, I have to admit that Honnold's climb was both breathtaking and terrifying to watch. But when you think about it, what's the real difference between watching a documentary like Free Solo and tuning in live for an event like Skyscraper Live? 
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. The fact that it was live and unedited made it feel super raw and uncomfortable at times... I'm not sure if I'd want to see this format become a regular thing 
. But at the same time, it's hard not to admire Honnold's bravery and skill - he's basically a human ninja 
!
It's just so... reckless. And don't even get me started on the audience watching from the comfort of their own homes. They're basically just voyeurs, witnessing someone else's fear and uncertainty for their own twisted enjoyment. 
And what's with the "unflinching, real-time experience" nonsense? Like, do we really need to be subjected to every moment of agony and terror on screen? Can't they just edit it out or something?