Alex Honnold hung by his legs on the side of Taipei 101, hands off, like gravity was optional.
The internet lost its mind in real time.
It might not have been the longest grind of the climb. But it was the moment that turned Netflix’s live event into the thing everyone had to see.
Netflix wanted an appointment-viewing moment. Not “watch it later.” Not “I’ll catch the highlights.” A real-time, palms-sweating, group-chat-on-fire event.
It got one.
If you missed the setup, here’s the original rundown of Netflix’s Taipei 101 live climb.
Honnold free-soloed Taipei 101 Saturday night for U.S. viewers, and Sunday morning in Taipei. The climb took place on the 508-meter (1,667-foot), 101-story tower and aired live with a short broadcast delay. Crowds gathered below, and spectators inside the building filmed him through the windows as he moved upward.
The crowd cheered. Honnold hugged his wife, said, “See ya up there,” and walked toward the corner of the building as if he were heading into a meeting.
Then it was all noise. Cheers, exclamations, and those sharp little screams that mean someone just did something your brain rejects.
Because it was live, the details you normally don’t feel in a documentary landed harder. Chalk. Breath. Small rests. And the crowd is reacting in real time.
The Moment the Internet Chose
Every live event ends up with one clip that becomes the “did you see that” handshake. For this climb, it wasn’t the finish.
It was the moment when Honnold hung by his legs while resetting, hands off, as if gravity were a suggestion and the rest of us were being punked. You can feel the collective audience flinch in real time.
No hands is crazy. @AlexHonnold #SkyscraperLIVE pic.twitter.com/twmCSX5nDS
— Netflix (@netflix) January 25, 2026
That’s why it spread. Not because it’s the most technical, or because it’s the hardest section in a climber’s spreadsheet. It spread because it looks impossible to a normal brain. It turns the climb into a single, shareable sentence.
And the building’s middle section did what it was always going to do. Those stacked “bamboo boxes” turned into a screen-grinding loop. Same moves. Same holds. Just Honnold, fatigue, and a very long way to go.
That’s the part where endurance stops being a concept and starts being something you can see.


The Release Valve Was a Selfie
Live events need an emotional pivot. A moment that tells viewers, “Yes, you can breathe again.”
Honnold reached the top and pulled out his phone for a selfie.
The most normal gesture possible. The least normal place to do it.
That’s the moment the stress converted into celebration. Proof that the guy you watched cling to glass for an hour is still a person who takes photos at the top of things.
That little act is why live works. It gives the audience something to do with the panic. You don’t just stop. You convert it into a clip, a reaction, a comment you can post so people know you were there.
Alex Honnold taking a selfie at the top of Taipei 101 after free soloing the skyscraper.
UNBELIEVABLE!!! #SkyscraperLIVE pic.twitter.com/czuxYkoVpY
— Netflix Sports (@netflixsports) January 25, 2026
Then He Finished, and Netflix Got Its Clean Ending
If the legs-hang clip was the panic, the completion was the exhale. Honnold topped out, and the crowd below finally got permission to celebrate instead of just survive the viewing experience.
ALEX HONNOLD AFTER COMPLETING HIS FREE SOLO OF TAIPEI 101: “Sick.”
The 101 story climb took 1 hour and 35 minutes #SkyscraperLIVE pic.twitter.com/TIzeRqiUcM
— Netflix (@netflix) January 25, 2026
Here’s what Netflix actually bought. Not just a climb, but a chorus. The crowd outside. The phones inside. Millions of people turning one tense moment into a cultural receipt. A live event isn’t just the thing. It’s the conversation it creates while it’s happening.
If Netflix wanted to stop being background noise, this is the blueprint. Make people show up at the same time. Give them something that turns a whole crowd into one shared gasp. Then let the moment travel on its own.
The climb is over. The clips are everywhere. And the comment sections are basically one word, repeated in different fonts: how?
What was the most unreal part for you? The legs-hang reset, the selfie on the spire, or the final pull to the top?