Snipers in the hills overlook the shattered streets of Sarajevo. Knowing that the next bullet could strike at any moment, the ordinary men and women below strive to go about their daily lives as best they can. Kenan faces the agonizing dilemma of crossing the city to get water for his family.

Snipers in the hills overlook half the intersections in Sarajevo. In the streets below, people go about their daily lives, trying to second guess when and where the next bullet will strike. One man, a cellist, defies this game of 'Sarajevo Roulette' for 22 consecutive days, and he becomes a sitting target as he plays in the street.

Sarajevo, in the 1990s, is a hellish place. The ongoing war devours human life, tears families apart and transforms even banal routines, such as acquiring water, into life-threatening expeditions. Day after day, a cellist stations himself in the midst of the devastation, defying the ever-present snipers to play tributes to victims of a massacre.

It is the summer of 1976 and Salvo Ursari, a man of retirement age, is walking on a taut wire strung between the twin towers of New York's World Trade Centre, almost 1400 feet above the city. It is the most challenging performance of his life. Far below him in the gaping crowd stands his wife, Anna, to whom he has made a solemn promise.