If you’d told me that you could make a movie about a guy who gets stuck in a crevice for five days anything other than a tedious, painful slog, you’d have lost me. But 127 Hours starts with a bang and propels us through an ordeal of thirst and increasing desperation with, dare I say it, verve and aplomb.
Here’s the setup: James Franco plays a fun-loving guy whose idea of a good time is heading out to the desert and biking, running, and climbing on his own. Clearly, this character hasn’t seen any Werner Herzog documentaries, or he’d know that nature is intrinsically out to get him and he should never venture out without a buddy, a plan, someone who knows where he’s going, some signal flares, and maybe a short-wave radio. Nevertheless, Franco’s a likeable fellow who appears to mean well, so we forgive. While running along, he misjudges the stability of a piece of sandstone and falls into a crevice. The piece of sandstone falls on top of him, pinning his arm to the crevice wall. He’s alone. He’s stuck. He’s screwed.
Here’s the slog part, right? Not at all. Director Danny Boyle uses music, creative and exciting camera work, and a smartly crafted screenplay to keep us absolutely riveted on this story. Franco tries various schemes to free his arm. He deals with limited mobility and a dwindling water supply. He hallucinates, he panics, he gets himself back together. Ultimately, he decides he must cut his arm off to get free, then realizes that he’s dulled his knife by chipping at rock. Now what?
This is powerful, exciting stuff, held together by Boyle’s virtuoso directing and Franco’s extraordinary performance. I didn’t think I could spend an hour and a half with a guy pinned by a rock, but 127 Hours not only makes it work, it makes it pop. 127 Hours is phenomenal.
