Boyle somehow manages to make 127 hours of pain and fear delightfully uplifting

Rating: 8/10 (16 March 2011)

127 Hours is the harrowing account of one man, Aron Ralston, and his six day battle with nature. This true story documents the time Aron spent pinned by the arm to the wall of an isolated Utah canyon until he is able to, horrifically and with great sacrifice, free himself. If the thought of 92 minutes of cinema set predominantly in three square metres of sunless canyon seems a little too heavy, I implore you do not be put off. Danny Boyle is at his finest here, and conjures from the sterility of the situation a thoroughly entertaining and uplifting journey. Quite a task this must have been too, one can only applaud Boyle for not slipping into the kind of tooth grinding, headache inducing endurance test such enclosing subject matter often brings forth from directors - Rodrigo Cortés' Buried, comes to mind. But no indeed, 127 Days escapes such pitfalls (no pun intended) and is a masterful, enjoyable and massively entertaining piece of cinema. Boyle's outstanding direction of such an iconic story would, however, be left inert without such an engaging and ambitious performance from the (might I say oddly cast) James Franco. The actor seamlessly slips between the easygoing humour to which he must by now be accustomed, and something much darker and deeper. Franco far from shies away from the demands of such a difficult and demanding role, and instead throws himself commendably into the unfamiliar territory of immense and delicate emotion. The opening scene shows adrenaline junkie Aron (Franco) excitedly preparing for his trip to the canyons. Viewers who are aware of Aron's story prior to watching the film will cringe as his fingers search fruitlessly for his Swiss Army knife, inches out of reach at the back of a cupboard. (Those who aren't aware will cringe later on). Impatiently he sets off, and through the hustle and life of the split screens (owing to Boyle's talented editor Jon Harris) Aron's journey away from civilisation begins. Franco's vigour and vivacity are apparent from the moment he puts his headphones on and races off on his mountain bike, A. R. Rahman's eclectic soundtrack resonating in his eardrums. On his way he runs into two like-minded, free spirited hikers (Kate Mara and Amber Tamblyn) who had gotten lost among the trails. While he gives them his own guided tour of the canyons the two girls who serve as the only real- time conversation in the vast majority of the film, and soon after they part ways Aron's life changing accident happens. In hastily traversing a narrow canyon, Aron dislodges a boulder which falls, crushing his right arm against the stone. The 27 year old, who has been racing round with blistering pace since the opening scene is now locked in place, and the next 127 hours of the his life are spent in this horrifying predicament. Unable to dislodge his arm nor move the boulder, and with no phone, minimal equipment, and only one bottle of water, Aron's mind becomes a hub of panic and mania. It is here that we see Franco's most credible acting to date. The actor maintains his affable humour, which comes across well in the imaginary chat show discussion about his entrapment (the conclusive word of which being a quiet, dry 'oops') but what is most commendable about his performance is its uncharacteristic subtlety. With no dialogue Franco must react and respond only to his character's thoughts and actions, and he does so flawlessly, succeeding with the smallest of gestures or expressions to communicate the grave reality of his fear. The film's crescendo is the most visceral and thigh-clawingly graphic moment in the film. In reality, Aron spent 45 minutes with the dull blade separating his body from the rock, but its screen time is, mercifully, much reduced. In vividly portraying the impromptu amputation Boyle is not simply employing shock tactics to repulse his viewer with the gore of the episode. Instead one gets the impression that the scene is far from excessive, and is in fact, commendable in its refusal to shy away from the physicality which lies at the heart of the story. One particular tendon succeeds in inducing a similar reaction from the viewer as from Aron himself before it is stretched and broken with a resounding snap. At the end of it all, there is a sense that not just the amputation, but the course of the entire story is accurately and honestly produced. Aron Ralston had received a huge number of offers from producers since the event in 2003 before finally allowing 127 Hours to be made and ultimately, one gets the impression that justice had been done to the story, if the closing scene's are a little sickly sweet. In spite of everything it's loud and alive, immensely entertaining, and above all uplifting. I challenge any viewer not to smile with genuine content as the credits begin to roll.