The crux of Nick Rosen and Peter Mortimer’s (The Dawn Wall) thrilling new climbing documentary The Alpinist is self-described “true dirtbag” Marc-André Leclerc. Leclerc, a 23-year old Canadian alpine free solo enthusiast-turned-pioneer, is in many ways the antithesis of many modern climbers. Seeking fame is not and never has been his purpose, the documentary beginning with Leclerc as more of a mythical easter egg, a whisper within the upper rungs of the climbing community. Much like The Sparks are “your favorite band’s favorite band”, Leclerc is your favorite climbers’ favorite climber. His bonafides are certified early on when climbing rockstar and Free Solo subject Alex Honnold choses Leclerc when asked who in the climbing world impressed him.

Unlike most in the sport, Leclerc doesn’t document his climbs though. He doesn’t have a social media presence, nor does he seek out brand endorsements or sponsorships. Evidence of his climbs are as rare as Bigfoot, with those who know the legend of Leclerc so devoted to his following it were as if he were a cryptoid himself. He just heads out with nothing more than the minimum materials he needs to scale a face and does the damn thing. No muss, no fuss, no cameras, no lifelines. If anyone out there is doing free solo climbing for pure love of the sport, it’s Leclerc.

Living out of a tent in the woods with his climber girlfriend Brette Harrington, Leclerc is a man out of time. He doesn’t even own a car or a cell phone, something that turns him into a bit of a filmmaker’s nightmare. Scheduling plans with Leclerc proves futile as his nomadic patterns and escalating climbing aspirations have him chasing weather patterns across the world for the next big solo. His travels throughout Canada, Patagonia, and Alaska mark the rise of a true climbing star. In response, Leclerc pushes further from the limelight and towards increasingly perilous routes. As his appetite for risk increases, so too does a flirtation with his own demise.

Connection beyond the moment is fleeting for Leclerc, something that documentarians Rosen and Mortimer struggle with while making The Alpinist. You can feel how visibly uncomfortable he is in front of the camera, one explanation for why the subject disappears in the middle of filming this two-years-in-the-making documentary.

Those in the climbing world know that on-site soloing, when an alpinist climbs a mountain with no prior planning, is the absolute pinnacle of the sport – and the absolute pinnacle of its danger – but Leclerc approaches it with a no-holds-barred zen-majesty. Climbing a mixture of ice and rock, switching between ice picks and the chalk bag, Leclerc dangles above icy precipices with no safety net, pushing the boundaries of possibility in moments that are absolutely bewildering to behold. If you held your breathe for Free Solo, you’ll likely need a ventilator to get through this. Despite the risk, for Leclerc, it is about being in the moment, having nothing but the face in front of you. No margin for error, no option but to be entirely present, entirely locked in. Even with a meager film crew present, that zen-ness of it all disappears like the wisps of a passing cloud.

As he pushes further, faster, and higher, we’re reminded of the odds, his friends, colleagues, and family weighing in on the elevated risk while accepting the fact that climbing is life for Leclerc and to even suggest he scale back would be laughed off as pure insanity. In one of the few interviews with Leclerc about his past, The Alpinist reflects on the climber’s innate push towards extremity, specifically regarding a flirtation with psychedelics. Leclerc recalls that while his friends would drop a tab of acid, he would opt for a half-dozen and then disappear completely for 20 hours. That level of pushing beyond the possible is present in all of Leclerc’s climbs and becomes the throbbing through-line of The Alpinist.

It all comes to a head with a haunting contradiction: on the one hand, Leclerc lives life at a level that few achieve, his 23-years-and-counting packed with more thrills than most lifetimes could endure. And yet, we are acutely aware that Leclerc cannot possibly be long for the world, his appetite for risky endeavors and pushing the boundaries of what has been done doomed to end the same way as so many of his compatriots. Leclerc lives to climb and climbs to live and watching him at work is as electrifying as it is polluted with a lingering sense of doom.

CONCLUSION: A stark reminder of the perilous extremes of climbing, ‘The Alpinist’ is a fascinating character study of young renegade Marc-André Leclerc and thoughtful companion piece to the recent slew of free solo documentaries, which focuses more on the internal mysteries of the subject than the technical craft of the sport.