127 Hours

The harrowing true story of Aron Ralston resorting to primal survival instincts is a captivating gem of a film. The story is no mystery, as it is based on real events from the media amplified event of 2003. A project like this has little room for error, as it is virtually a one man movie. Danny Boyle uses his trademark unconventional camera angles and peculiar music to enhance the tension while adding a little much-needed levity.

Before I discuss the film's triumphs and shortcomings, I would like to say that this adaptation could have taken a much darker, suspenseful tone. Why Boyle chose to add humor and inspiration to such a grim story is testament to his vision as a filmmaker. I will return to this later.

The setting couldn't be more beautiful. The Moab desert in Utah; the perfect landscape filled with caves and canyons older than civilization itself. Hues of red and brown with smooth walls carved from millenniums of erosion and weathering. Untouched by humans except for hikers, climbers, and other adventure enthusiasts.

From the opening credits, there is a barrage of foreshadowing and irony. A frenetic montage of humans in their communal element. Running of the Bulls, Crossing urban intersections, basically interacting en masse. Cut to Aron who is getting ready for his solo adventure, escaping the company of his species. Boyle lingers the camera teasingly on a bottle of water, a small drop of condensation rolling down its lip signifying that every last drop is precious. Aron grabs his food and drink for his journey, the remaining choices a subtle reminder of the sustenance rejected. He reaches into the dark closet shelf for his knife, finding only a cheap, imitation Leatherman and leaving his pristine Swiss Army Knife on the shelf, just inches from his blind reach.

It is clearly going to be a movie of sublime imagery.

He embarks on his journey with reckless abandon, driving through the night until he finally reaches his destination; a small campsite outside of Blue John Canyon where he curls up in the bed of his truck. The morning jolts the viewer awake with his adventurous spirit in high gear, riding his bicycle into no-man's land. After an already exhausting biking and hiking, he comes across two young women, and we get to see James Franco begin his true transformation into Aron Ralston.

There is a sort of morbid anticipation for the tragic events that befall Aron, but as we see into his personality and his undeniable free-spirited optimism, we get a sense that everything will be alright.

From the moment that his arm is pinned under a boulder until the shocking climax, it is like the second act in a movie, but the buildup is short enough, and anticipation managed with an artful crescendo. The simplicity and humanity of the story works. Brilliantly.

As I stated earlier, there is levity thrown in that numbs the viewer from what might have been an unbearable and visceral terror of claustrophobia and moribund realization. Franco gives his last words into the camera, jumping between self-aware humor and reflective remorse and brightens his own spirit with a mock interview of himself in a delirious state. The timing of these intervening quips bring the viewer back to the reality that we are sitting in a theatre and that this is just a movie. Without it, the intensity would border on unbearable.

There is no false sense of bravado or heroism. Franco captures the spirit with a raw emotional sincerity rarely seen. He handles his predicament with grace and rational problem-solving intent, but as his strength and hydration wear down, so does his spirit. We follow a strong, young man down the spiraling inevitability that a primal choice must be made. Filming himself chronicling his experience, and watching the pallid complexion fade away, it is cinematic magic.

At the first nine screenings of this film, there were nine victims of the graphic realism who passed out. I won't lie, it is heart-pounding intensity. The amputation scene which is obviously the climax, is the most realistic and rawest I have ever seen. There is a beauty embedded deep in it however. Almost indescribable, once free of the arm that is slowly killing him, there is a sigh of relief. A feeling of freedom after 127 hours of captivity. Franco's Ralston utters two simple words while staring back at his prison; "Thank you."

What I like about it is that there is no intentional gratuitous camera work. The focus is on the emotional decision, and the arm itself becomes an afterthought. The circulation dead already, the pain and bleeding are minimal, and although gruesome in its own right, Boyle and Franco handle it with the utmost grace and professionalism.

I would highly recommend this film for the message of the strength of survival, and for the combination of Boyle and Franco. It is reminiscent of Into the Wild, a film that was overlooked by many, and which had a decidedly more tragic outcome. This is an adventure of another kind. Go see it, but be prepared. 10/10.