Hanging by a Wire: Behind the thrilling Pakistani documentary that opened Sundance 2026

In August of 2023, the lush Himalayan foothills of Northern Pakistan became a haunting spectacle across global media. For 13 fraught hours, the world watched as eight young boys dangled in mid-air, after one of two cables holding their cable car snapped between the remote villages of Jhangri and Battangi.

First announced with a sneak peek at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, Hanging by A Wire is a documentary-thriller by duo director Mohammed Ali Naqvi and producer Bilal Sami. Produced by Mindhouse Productions and 64th Street Media, and backed by EverWonder Studios, the film is now officially presented by Universal Pictures, with sold-out screenings ahead of its opening-day premiere at Sundance 2026.

This project quite literally took a village. I joined the team over a year into production as researcher and production coordinator. When I came on, the story was still unfinished – in structure, and in memory. In Battagram, the rescue had already become legend: everyone remembered the 13 hours differently.

The villages of Jhangri and Battangi are part of the Battagram district in the Hazara division of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in Pakistan. A notoriously isolated region, situated in breathtaking landscapes, it is historically remembered as “unruly”, a region home to rebels, for much time uncontrolled by colonial powers. The villages are difficult to reach and the landscape untouched, making movement, progress and interaction with the locals of the region close to impossible.  

This premiere is not only an exciting prospect for our team, but for entire communities back in the villages in Battagram, families patiently waiting for their story – through their eyes – to be shared with the world, on a stage where they will be heard. Beginning its development over three years ago, the journey of making Hanging by A Wire is as unprecedented as it has been thrilling. 

Our story began in late 2023 when critically-acclaimed director, academy member and our trusty team leader, Mohammed Ali Naqvi and collaborators began to travel up north to investigate what truly happened on what seemed the longest day Battagam had seen in a while, and an unexpected miracle for the isolated region to be discussed globally. On set, amongst many late-night shoots, co-producer Khalid Waseem often recounted the first trip to the village, where he was representing our team and beginning to understand what really happened. “To get to Battangi, we needed to change vehicles; the terrain was more treacherous than anything we had experienced.” To which, the other leader of the pack, producer Bilal Sami, said: “and thus we journeyed again and again.” 

This truly was what making the film was: an uphill battle following the thrilling story, in the most treacherous and isolated of places (particularly for the urban outsiders unfamiliar with its contours) – to understand what the characters actually went through, and what it took to try to get them out alive. We conducted re-enactments, where characters co-authored their experiences, navigated cultural sensitivities and consistently asked ourselves how best to tell the story with integrity. While global news outlets went live with the nail-biting rescue operation (putting authorities under much-needed but crippling pressure), our film uncovers the minutiae of what transpired over those 13 hours: the collaboration between locals, authorities and the media; uncovering the unlikely ensemble of heroes that shifted the day’s course.

Questions of class and access sit squarely at the centre of it all. Whose expertise was believed, whose instincts were brushed aside — and why entire communities have been left to navigate broken infrastructure in the first place. Between dizzying aerial footage, phone videos captured by locals on the ground, and intimate interviews with characters, the film pulses with tension, memory, and the weight of what nearly went wrong.

To me, the in-between moments of making this film make it matter. Namely, the ownership, collaboration and community formed in the making of the film – where everyone’s story is interwoven. From the emotional sit-down interview with Sonia Shamroz, now Assistant Inspector General of Police in KPK (the first woman to hold this position), to narrations by journalist and Battagram native Sumaira Khan – a mouthpiece for women in the region, and a key actor in the media’s reception of that day’s crisis. Our growing rapport with the protagonists, from the hilarious and inspiring local rescuers who found time to take selfies and crack jokes amidst the chaos – to the community elders whose worlds turned upside down for those 13 hours.

Director Mo Naqvi intended for this film to be a break from the often one-dimensional tragic tales that were becoming synonymous with significant media from Pakistan. He explains, “After twenty years of making uncompromising, award-winning films about trauma, abuse, and oppression in South Asia, Hanging by a Wire represents an intentional break from the expectations placed on global-south filmmakers. It is not a softening of vision, but a rebellion against an ecosystem that rewards suffering while denying agency — using genre, spectacle, and resilience as the next frontier of political storytelling.”

Hanging by a Wire will soon traverse borders and share this tale with the world, but what audiences won’t see are the lasting relationships from KPK to Rawalpindi, London and LA – filmmakers and community members alike coming together to tell this story. Not only does the narrative show the coming together of society, but our film also shows what it takes to truly represent a region such as this one.

Each person who played a part in telling the story wanted the world to understand what those 13 hours felt like – what living in conditions that resulted in this calamity feels like. Being on set against the moving backdrop that is our homeland’s landscape, we were constantly reminded of why this project matters; these people are being systematically ignored. Amidst this nuanced context, the film at its heart is an ensemble adventure story, as Mo puts it its spirit lies as a story “where ordinary people come together to do something extraordinary.”

What stays with me the most isn’t the scale the film has now reached, but the layered responsibility that comes with carrying a region’s story beyond its borders. I take immense pride to not only have been on this set and worked with this team, but to have begun to learn firsthand the practice of filmmaking from a project such as this one, where storytelling, community and true representation continued to function as the compass points guiding the work.

When we all come together, we can move mountains.