127 HOURS

A+

Cast: James Franco, Kata Mara, Amber Tamblyn, Clémence Poésy, Treat Williams, Kate Burton

Director: Danny Boyle

Rated: R (for language and some disturbing violent content bloody images)

Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes

I remember my mother telling me stories about how foxes caught intraps would sometimes chew their own legs off to escape. Naturally,such gory tales of self-preservation stuck fast in my youngimagination, though I never thought to hear anything similar involvinga human being. That is, until I heard about Aron Ralston. The trueaccount on which the magnificent “127 Hours” is based is about nothingless than the ferocious indomitability of the human spirit. It is anideal story for Danny Boyle because the director — who has never met agenre he didn’t want to test drive — excels at putting characters insituations from which escape seems impossible. And then, seemingly atthe last possible second, he injects hope — precious, unexpected,astonishing hope.The story is so familiar it barely needs repeating. In 2003, the27-year-old Aron decided to hike Utah’s Canyonland National Parkalone. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. While squeezingthrough a narrow passageway, he slipped and fell, his arm trappedunyieldingly between the rock wall and a dislodged bolder, literallybetween a rock and a hard place. Five days later Ralston walked out ofthe canyon having severed his own arm just above the elbow with acheap all-purpose utility tool.Danny Boyle is the most colorful, tactile, visceral director workingtoday. While in the past this effervescent style has been used to givea film personality (“Slumdog Millionaire,” “28 Days Later,”“Trainspotting”), here it is put in service of character — an adrenalinejunkie whose infectious love of life is evident to anyone with whom hecomes in contact. “127 Hours” begins much as all Boyle’s filmsdo — vivid, hyper-caffeinated images careen across the screen, competingfor our attention. Indeed, when Aron first gets to the park, heplunges through the magnificent desolation on a mountain bike, poweredby an energetic score by A.R. Rahman. He goads two young woman, theonly two people he comes across, into climbing through a narrowcrevasse with him and dropping into an unseen, crystal bluesubterranean lake.But when Aron becomes trapped, the film and the countdown clock fromwhich the title is derived truly begin. From here on out, Aron, aswell as the actor who portrays him — the versatile James Franco who willsurely garner a Best Actor nod — is entirely alone and nearly void ofdialogue. When you are as remote as Aron clearly is (a series ofsoaring overhead shots reveal his isolation), there is almost no pointin calling out for help. An engineer by training, Aron inventories hisgear, examining each possible solution. His resolutions are brilliantbut fruitless and his urges become increasingly primal. He luxuriatesin mere seconds a day of direct sunlight, stretching limbs into thewarmth like a cat in a sunbeam. He rejoices in miniscule victories forthey are all he has. Ultimately, as the days pass and his situationbecomes increasingly dire (his water gone, Aron has no choice but tobegin drinking his own urine), he begins recording his own obituary onthe video camera he’d brought along to document his trip. Though he isconvinced of his impending death, he maintains a silly, albeitincreasingly black, sense of humor.Boyle’s task as captain of this ship is doubly difficult — he musteventually confront an uncomfortably graphic climax while also keepingus interested in sticking around while watching just one actor on oneclaustrophobic stage. Boyle avoids the impending monotony by switchingto interior mode, maintaining the film’s energy by living vicariouslythrough Aron’s imagination. Memories and fantasies are the captive’sonly companions. He begins to take stock of his life, a phosphorescentextrovert forced into an agonizing season of contemplation andintrospection. His hallucinations become ever more existential. LikeScrooge, he begins to see his past, present and future. So lifealtering is the experience that when Aron finally tears himself freeof his dead arm and the rock that pins it, he turns, takes stock ofhis surroundings and astonishingly whispers, “Thank you.” It tooklosing a part of himself to find himself.“127 Hours” doesn’t shy away from showing the inevitable deed. Indeed,the heroism is in the gore. Even in a state of delirium brought on byextreme dehydration and shock, Aron sees his final solution as aseries of technical exercises involving the application of leverageand the severing of obstinate nerves (which, when they meet his dullblade, screech like a wailing electric guitar).Boyle passes judgment on Ralston without being judgmental. Being alonewas Ralston’s only mistake; fate did all the rest. Clearly the youngman was reckless, foolish even for embarking on an expedition withoutfirst telling a solitary soul where he was going. But it is thisfearlessness that also ensured he would have the fortitude and guts todo what it takes to get back out again.“127 Hours” is one of the great survival stories and easily one of themost inspirational, triumphal things you will ever see. You will walkout of the film not depressed, but elated. You may even find yourselfwanting to immediately pull on your hiking boots and hit a remote,unpopulated trail. Why? Because “127 Hours” is about ecstasy insteadof agony, about triumph and not about defeat.

BRANDON FIBBS Photo by