Recently, I dragged Mrs. CFS to a documentary called Free Solo, the one featuring Alex Honnold, who is, quite simply, an athlete without peer, maybe the greatest ever.

For those who don’t know, Honnold, 33, is a free soloist, which means he climbs sheer rock walls with no ropes, no crampons, no carabiners, no parachutes, no jetpacks, no nothing to arrest his fall if he makes even the teeny-tiniest mistake.

No, for him climbing is all about purity: just the rock, his meaty fingers, a pair of rubber-soled shoes and a bag of chalk to keep hand sweat in check. In other words, the man is a prodigiously talented fucking insane person…

The film, directed by fellow climber Jimmy Chin and his wife, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, chronicles Honnold’s decision and, subsequently, intense preparations, to free solo El Capitan, that familiar 3,000-foot slab of granite rising from the Yosemite Valley, not to mention the desktops of millions of Apple computer users.

In terms of difficulty and sheer danger, “El Cap” is considered the moon shot of free soloing. Heck, the rock is hard enough to ascend with ropes, which, on average, takes about four days, let alone with your fingertips and tiptoes. (Honnold figures it’ll take him about four hours.)

Everyone involved with the endeavor thinks it’s a crummy idea, a virtual death sentence. Tommy Caldwell, an accomplished climber in his own right (with ropes) who’s recruited to help map the best route, notes to Honnold that “Everybody who has made free soloing a big part of their life…is dead now.” Even Chin, the film’s co-director, has serious reservations. (“I’ve always been conflicted about shooting a film on free soloing…it’s hard to not imagine your friend falling through the frame to his death.”).

But people like Honnold, people wired differently than the rest of us, gotta do what they gotta do and no one’s going to talk them out of it. Speaking of wiring, at one point in the film the cameras follow Honnold to an MRI appointment, part of a study to unlock the mysteries of his love of extremes. The resulting data indicates that he  begins to experience fear much later than the rest of us mere mortals, something to do with how his amygdala operates.

Whatever the explanation, the man is a beast.

As to whether he succeeded or falls to his death “through the frame,” feel free to check out this incredible documentary, which is currently in theaters and should be available to stream in the coming weeks. Here’s the trailer:

Now, having dried the flop sweat from our collective palms, let’s delve into the main thrust of this post—movies (and documentaries) that feature vertiginous heights—inspired, of course, by Free Solo. I’ll keep the commentary to a minimum. The scenes speak for themselves.

Vertigo (1958, Dir. Alfred Hitchcock)

Hitchcock at—excuse the pun—the height of his powers. A film widely regarded as one of the top two or three ever made, one whose opening scene makes you think twice about climbing that ladder to clean the leaves from your gutters.

Man on Wire (2008, Dir. James Marsh)

A terrific documentary on Frenchman Philippe Petit, the tightrope walker who did his thing between the Twin Towers in 1974. While no footage of the event exists, elegantly edited stills convey the hypnotic greatness (and idiocy) of the feat.

Where Eagles Dare (1968, Brian G. Hutton)

One of the great WW2 thrillers, ripe for a remake in the digital age and discussed ad nauseam on this blog. Makes the cable car scene in the 1979 James Bond flick, Moonraker, look like child’s play.

North by Northwest (1959, Dir. Alfred Hitchcock)

Alfred’s follow-up to his underachieving (at the time) Vertigo, the film not only features that famous crop-duster vs. man chase, but also one across the face of Mt. Rushmore. If remade it would undoubtably feature the visage of a fifth president, that of probably the greatest politician ever, Mr. Donald J. Trump. Actually, in order to pull off this sculptural feat there’s a good chance the top of Lincoln’s head would have to be removed to provide extra rock for our Commander-in-Chief’s voluminous coiffure. Which is fine. Because Lincoln was a loser. And Mary Todd was a fat, ugly cow.

The Walk (2015, Dir. Robert Zemeckis)

A slightly fictionalized account of Petit’s famous walk featuring Pepe le Pew Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, who took it on the chin for his accent but, really, if you listen to the real Philippe, that’s what he sounds like, so there!

For Your Eyes Only (1981, Dir. John Glen)

Easily the best Bond film featuring Roger Moore, this one culminating in a nail-biter atop an abandoned monastery (the spectacular Holy Trinity in Greece subbing for “St. Cyril”) whose sheer verticality spelled doom for an assortment of baddies.

The Parallax View (1974, Dir. Alan J. Pakula)

Great, if somewhat forgotten, thriller (part of Pakula’s “Political Paranoia trilogy,” which also included Klute and All the President’s Men) opening with a scene atop the 605-foot Space Needle in Seattle that doesn’t go well for one poor soul. Actually, he was an assassin, so screw him. (His end comes at about the 1:18 mark.)

Vertical Limit (2000, Dir. Martin Campbell)

Certainly not one of director Campbell’s strongest works (his 2006 take on Casino Royale looks like Citizen Kane in comparison), the film does open with a well-executed moral dilemma: too many people dangling from a rope that’s working its way loose from a crack high above Monument Valley.

Cliffhanger (1993, Dir: Renny Harlin)

What can one say about this film? While on so many levels absurd (dialogue, acting, believability), it’s also a pretty spectacular actioner, one in which director Harlin uses Italy’s Dolomites as stand-ins for the Rockies to great effect. No where is the yin-yang nature of Cliffhanger better represented than in its opening, an unbelievably harrowing rescue attempt sprinkled with cringe-inducing dialogue. Yo, Cruise—Sly was doing the nutty on-location stunts years before you decided to hang off skyscrapers and airplanes as Ethan Hunt.

Bonus: Felix Baumgartner from 127,852 feet!