Dizzying Doc Skywalkers: A Love Story Defies Gravity, Not Narrative Expectations

Adrenaline courses through the filmic fabric of Skywalkers: A Love Story, director Jeff Zimbalist’s documentary about two young Russians who risk their lives to document their ascent to the tippy-top of the tallest buildings and construction sites—first in their hometown of Moscow, then across Europe and Asia. The only thing more dangerous than the potential of plunging to one’s death, the film argues, is falling in love with someone who potentially faces the same tragic fate. While the footage obtained from the duo’s exploits is thrilling and impressively artful, Zimbalist’s own due diligence as a filmmaker isn’t totally exerted, particularly as it pertains to probing his subjects on their relationship to social media, the ongoing occupation of Ukraine and making the bulk of their current income from NFTs. 

Angela Nikolau and Ivan Beerkus both approached “rooftopping”—the self-explanatory term for these (often illegal) urban conquests—from radically different backgrounds, though with a simple common denominator. Nikolau was raised in the circus by trapeze artist parents while Beerkus grew up with a more traditional family structure, yet both note that their adolescent years were far from idyllic; Nikolau’s father left the family to pursue a relationship with another woman, while the rocky relationship between Beerkus’ parents “made home feel suffocating.” In their pursuit to come up for air, they found their life’s passion: “skywalking,” the term they coined for their acrobatic-inspired craft, and each other. 

Per the couple’s story, Nikolau first noticed Beerkus’ rooftopping endeavors on Instagram, and as a result decided to try her hand at the extreme activity, especially when she noticed the dearth of women in the local daredevil community. (“I didn’t find any girl rooftoppers…I hit up the local boys to show me the best spots, but they told me they don’t take girls rooftopping.”) It wasn’t until Beerkus directly messaged Nikolau in 2016 about collaborating on a climb of the world’s tallest construction site in China that they became a unit. Of course, part of the built-in virality that Beerkus—or, perhaps more aptly, his financial “sponsors”—sought on this journey was Nikolau’s strikingly lithe, photogenic presence (indeed, she packs a fashionable change of clothes during each trek to ensure the most dramatic photo-ops). After this method proves successful, the pair become virtually inseparable. But is this union the product of true love or a craving for continued clout?

While Zimbalist’s film does capture plenty of bickering and pettiness between the couple, chiefly as their relationship progresses throughout the years, it does not examine if their initial “hard launch,” so to speak, was egged on by social media rather than genuine chemistry. Though the couple eventually move in together (complete with a gorgeous Bengal cat), it’s clear that the longevity of their relationship is hinged on skywalking. When the money they make from the precarious practice is stalled during COVID amid travel bans and lockdown, Nikolau pivots to 14-hour shifts as a social media producer, making ends meet for the couple while Beerkus dabbles in NFTs (at the time of the documentary’s completion, this energy-sapping practice becomes the duo’s main source of income). After the pandemic-induced hiatus, it becomes imperative—namely for Nikolau—that they jump back into skywalking by training to scale Kuala Lumpur’s Merdeka 118, the second-tallest building in the world. Malaysia’s extreme anti-trespassing laws coupled with their lack of recent practice amplifies the risk of losing everything over what could be their last expedition ever. 

The footage sourced from the couple’s own GoPro, drone and iPhone cameras is obviously incredible, hence the social media hype that they chase as much as the literal and figurative high from scaling skyscrapers. Zimbalist’s interviews, on the other hand, leave much to be desired. When addressing the ongoing Russian invasion of Ukraine, for example, the emptiest of platitudes are offered from the couple. “I’m against people dying, against suffering,” Nikolau blandly offers. “As an artist, you need to express yourself. But here, everyone has to be silent.” Ironically, Nikolau herself wasn’t silent when she acted as a witness after a fellow rooftopper painted the star of a local Stalinist skyscraper with the colors of the Ukrainian flag back in 2015. Of course, political sentiments can mature with age, but how can the director expect to produce a nuanced portrayal of the film’s subjects without digging deeper than their superficial statements? While Russia is certainly a country embroiled in censorship and propaganda, these individuals have risked arrest both at home and abroad for their gutsy pastime, so what’s the harm in at least asking for more context or clarity on certain issues? 

Skywalkers: A Love Story certainly delivers on its promise of exhilarating footage of high-flying adventure-seekers. Those afraid of heights will find their stomachs flipping from the intense POV shots—and occasional stunts—that the couple orchestrate for their Instagram profiles, though the platform has since been banned in Russia. However, when it comes to providing a complex, fleshed-out survey of Nikolau and Beerkus, both as a unit and individuals, Zimbalist falls from great heights.

Director: Jeff Zimbalist, Maria Bukhonina (co-director)
Release Date: July 19, 2024 (Netflix) 

Natalia Keogan is a freelance writer and editor with a concerted focus on independent film. Her interviews and criticism have appeared in Filmmaker Magazine, Reverse Shot, Backstage Magazine, SlashFilm, Blood Knife and Daily Grindhouse, among others. She lives in Queens, New York with her large orange cat. Find her on Twitter @nataliakeogan