The maximalist meets the minimalist in Danny Boyle's 127 Hours, the follow-up to 2008's Best Picture winner, Slumdog Millionaire. Boyle has the tough task of cinematically chronicling the harrowing ordeal of Aron Ralston, a hiker who was forced to amputate his own arm after being pinned down by a boulder.
127 Hours is a veritable one-man show centered on James Franco as the free-spirited Ralston whose life is about to be forever changed, building from a series of innocuous decisions. Ralson wakes early in the morning to prepare for a hiking trip through Utah's Monument Valley, the site of many classic John Ford Westerns. He can't find his trusty Swiss army knife and he neglects to answer a phone call from his mother (Kate Burton). He does manage to grab a few supplies like a microwave burrito, a bottle of water, digital camera, and a camcorder. Ralston rips through the desert on his mountain bike with a mile wide grin on his face. Nothing seems to get him down. Even when he crashes his bike, he laughs it off and snaps a picture of himself.
While walking the trail, he comes across a pair of cute girls (Amber Tamblyn & Kate Mara) who are lost. Ralson gladly acts as their guide. The trio squeezes through a narrow canyon that leads to a beautiful underground lake. After parting ways, Ralston attempts to traverse another crevice, one far less imposing, and slips on a rock. When the dust settles, Ralston finds that his right arm has been crushed in between the rock and the canyon wall. He's in the middle of nowhere and has neglected to inform anyone of his whereabouts. He tries desperately to free himself even jury rigging a pulley system with his climbing role and harness to no avail. Trapped for five days, Ralston is forced to do the unthinkable in order to survive. To Boyle's credit, he does not shy away from the incredibly graphic details in order to convey the seriousness of the man cutting off his own arm. Without his Swiss army knife, Ralston turns to a cheap and dull knock-off made in China. Though in real life, the act took Ralston approximately 45 minutes, the sequence only lasts around 3 minutes in the film. Needless to say, those of you with a weak stomach should avert their eyes. It's been reported that a few audience members at early screeners fainted at the grisly sight.
When focused solely on Ralston, Boyle's direction takes a claustrophobic direction with tight close-ups of James Franco pushed uncomfortably against the corner of the frame. The camcorder is used by Ralston as both a distraction and a confessional. Franco shines in these moments as even the direst of straits cannot extinguish his natural charm. In one of the film's best scenes, Ralston hosts a mock talk show with himself as host and guest. As the chance for survival becomes increasingly slim, Ralston can only assess his situation with a glib and succinct, "Oops." Where there are highs, there are lows and Franco is equally adept at portraying a man with a zest for life coming to grips with his mortality.
It's a difficult proposition to build a feature-length movie around a solitary character within a confined location. Films like Open Water, Frozen, and Buried have tried to similar stories with mixed results. Boyle manages to keep things fresh with his kinetic directing style. He opens 127 Hours with a split screen sequence that bluntly juxtaposes Ralston beginning his journey with throngs of people crammed together as they head off to work. Moving to Monument Valley, Boyle goes for long shots of his lead against the majestic open spaces. He allows us to revel in it before constricting the film. As Ralston grows weaker due to the elements and a lack of food and water, he escapes into a realm of flashbacks and fantasies. He imagines himself leaping to freedom as if he were Superman. There's even an amusing hallucination involving an inflatable Scooby Doo. Ralston leads us through happier moments in his life with his family (Treat Williams and Lizzy Caplan appear briefly as his father and sister) and reveals regrets with an ex-girlfriend (Cleméncé Poésy). Boyle and screenwriter Simon Beaufoy do a fine job of weaving these sequences into the narrative without feeling like superfluous padding.
However, Boyle forgets to put on the brakes from time to time. The perfect example comes when Ralston realizes he has a limited supply of water. Boyle whips the camera across the desert and back to Ralston's car where an unopened bottle of Gatorade rests. It's a clever and comical moment that Boyle overcooks by immediately going into a montage of soda commercials. The camera tricks are alternately invigorating and detracting, as if Boyle did not possess the patience needed to keep us in that tiny spot. 127 Hours is at its best when it is pure and undiluted, focusing intimately on Franco's raw performance.
Rating: *** (*****)
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