After Petit finishes this act, he's hounded by the media with questions, yet Petit feigns disinterest with an upturned wink of the eye. Like most of the maneuvers by this Frenchman, there is always the calculated signs of sneaky self-promotion. It's also betrayal. You can see this in the tears of his former best mate Jean-Louis and in the regret of his ex-girlfriend Annie.
These were people who gave full efforts, put their reputations on the line, and stood in the way of danger for someone who was doing something admittedly remarkable, but really rather irrelevant. Yet what does Petit do after accomplishing his "dream"? He goes and f*cks the first local that whispers in his ear while his friends strain their necks looking for him.
I've given up on trying to make sense of the enthusiasm that surrounds documentaries these days. The formula towards acclaim seems simple enough. Either: A.) Be sensational - glorify daredevils, pedophiles, murderers, bestiality, etc. OR B.) Have talking heads spout leftist politics. These two options will cinch you red carpet rollouts to festivals and just maybe an Academy Awards nomination.
[FINAL NOTE: If you doubt my claim that Philippe Petit is a flaming narcissist, watch the interview with him on the special features section of the DVD.]