A spiced-up version of Touching the Void

Rating: 8/10 (9 January 2011)

Danny Boyle's latest exploit tells the true story of a man trapped in a crevasse with a boulder pinning down his right arm for over five days. Unable to free himself, cocky climber, Aron Rolston (James Franco), is driven to cut off the limb with a blunt blade. Had a lesser-known character been in the directing chair then this could have easily been brushed off as another monotonous, slow-moving piece of dross whereby the viewer is left waiting for the inevitable. Remember Open Water?
The skeptics will be pleased to hear that the great British filmmaker hasn't lost the plot. 127 Hours is held together by the bursts of intensity that Boyle is renowned for. The camera gets right up as if to smell to Rolston; its gets inside his water bottle; and it buries under his skin. Stylistic finesse is abandoned in favour of an ugly closeness as we see one man degenerate into a urine-guzzling nutter.
The most basic of narratives is infused with spouts of paranoia, nostalgia and delirium. As Rolston defiantly stares death in the face, the audience is treated to a series of anecdotes and fantasies. Through this period of self-reflection Aron admits to his own selfishness. He calls out to his mother, his father and his sister. But as his imagination takes over, a sensuous love story develops into bouts of pleasure and heartbreak.
Not all of 127 Hours is played out through delusional mind-tricks. Canon must have scooped the biggest product-placement deal of 2011 as much of Aron's confessions and messages are recorded on a hand-held video-camera. His rendition of a morning talkshow is a particular highlight. Having been tortured through the cheesy 'snapshot' sound-bites, one can only feel a sense of frustration and disappointment that this real-life documentation is not revealed in the credits, at least. Instead, we are introduced to the real Aron Rolston through a pathetically banal on-sofa-with-wife-and-baby shot.
The soundtrack is drawn, in part, from popular music. Though this may sometimes feel misplaced, it makes the film work in mysterious ways, juxtaposing Bill Withers' 'Lovely Day' to a scene of screaming agony. At the darkest of moments horrific shudders of a cracking bone thunder through the audience. Yet the overwhelming audio-effect is to build up the feel-good factor of what would otherwise have been rather grim film.
Boyle has blasted out a spiced up version of Touching the Void Never to give a roller-coaster ride. Full of guilty cinematic pleasures, 127 Hours is worth seeing on the big screen. Never before has such a limited plot been executed with such vibrancy. If nothing else, 127 Hours will make you increasingly sentimental about your right arm.