127 Hours: Who knew Franco was a credible Actor? Oh Danny Boyle!

By now, everyone has heard about Aaron Ralston and his story. It is one of a cocky guy who falls into a crevice, has his hand pinned by a rock and is stuck there for five days. After running out of food and water, he comes face to face with a horrifying dilemma: would you cut off your own arm to live?

But why would audiences fleet to the movies to watch a story they already know? Heck, I can think of countless other ways to spend my $15 on something else more original. After all, the premise comes off as static and claustrophobic. The truth is though, under Danny Boyle’s direction, your fifteen dollars is well spent.

While Ralston is pinned beneath the boulder, Boyle reaches out to his audience and brings them into Ralston’s intimate space. In the same way Ralston’s arm is pinned under a boulder, the audience is pinned to their seats, watching him scurry for his made-in-china knife, ration the few hundred mills of water, and find solace in the little natural beauty the confined crevice can offer him.

What plays out on screen isn’t a location bound narrative, but the chronicles of a man’s psychosis, tested. Through dehydration, starvation, desolation and fear, the audience shares Ralston’s many life-threatening struggles. There are no CGI car chases and gunfights barraging the audience. The imminent threat of death is dealt with in a real and simple fashion: if this daredevil doesn’t drink or eat, he will die.

To pass time, and more importantly stay psychologically astute, Ralston reaches out for any signs of life. He records the flight path of a raven, the hour the sun’s ray of light will extend its reach to his foot, and the feel of the rocks that encompass him. Life has been reduced to fundamental elements that everyone is familiar with, but also that everyone takes for granted.

As the hours turn into days, Ralston begins to reflect on the relationships he has failed to value. Turning to his digital cameras, he reaches out to his family and friends, leaving them the intimate messages only death motivates.

Even though Ralston is arm deep in claustrophobia, the audience isn’t. Boyle is skillful in drawing a contrast between the tight confines of Ralston’s space and the vast, desolate Utah desert. He creates an environment that audiences can empathise with emotionally, without replicating it visually. Flashbacks, hallucinations and dreams, coupled with sensory shots, create the experience of claustrophobia without that uncomfortable sensation. 

There has been lots of controversy regarding the visceral scene at the end where Ralston is forced to amputate his arm. Take it from a (squirmy) man; it is difficult to get through. You will cringe, and the odd person or two will feel lethargic—there are even reports of people vomiting. Bearing these difficult scenes prove rewarding, as the film’s close is pregnant with emotion.

This is a properly brilliant film, distinguished by intelligent direction and a surprisingly good performance by Franco, who up until now has been no more than a pin up boy. The dynamic narrative structure provides for an honest account into events that are naturally astonishing, and Boyle’s decision to not sensationalise or tread horror territory has paid off. Instead of embellishing the story, he gives the content time and space to shine.

Walking into the cinema, bracing myself, I was adamant that 127 hours only merited a one-time viewing. Like I am Legend, I envisioned it to be difficult to watch, and although a good film, a second viewing would be redundant. But not only is Boyle and Franco’s collaboration beautiful, it has left me eager to see it again. And again. It tests the measure of man, and I must say, man measures well. 

By Tony Ibrahim

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