I don’t review many movies, but I was somehow invited to a screening of 127 Hours this week. The film reminded me that the most important peice of gear we all have is up in our heads. Aron Ralston’s story is about how he used his mind with the tools he had at hand to survive an ordeal many of us wouldn’t.
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The story of Ralston, the hiker who was pinned under a boulder for five days and had to go to gut-churning extremes to survive, is well known. So how does a movie director enthrall an audience that will include many viewers who already know the ending?
It’s all in the telling. In “127 Hours,” Danny Boyle doesn’t simply regurgitate the facts of Ralston’s ordeal, but crafts a story that is entertaining and disturbing in equal measure. And it doesn’t hurt that this is the kind of story that naturally draws viewers into wondering how they would handle such a desperate, worst-case scenario.
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Boyle spends a few minutes establishing the cocky, self-reliant Ralston (James Franco in an Oscar-worthy performance) as he leaves the city behind for Utah’s Canyonlands National Park to ride his mountain bike and climb in solitude. But for those who know the real-life story, Ralston’s date with an immovable chockstone will loom at every change in the soundtrack, as does his subsequent self-mutilation.
Two hours of watching a guy wrestle with a boulder seems like a recipe for a $12 nap, but there isn’t a dull moment in Boyle’s telling of Ralson’s physical and emotional struggle. The story is told from two perspectives — Ralston’s outward ordeal with the boulder, and the inner machinations of his memory and imagination. Franco flawlessly moves through the full spectrum of his character’s emotions, his face transitioning from cheery and healthy to sunken-eyed and hurting.
After his initial panic subsides, Ralston takes a mental (and lifesaving) step back from his predicament and begins to formulate a rational approach to his survival. He lays out his meager gear: water bottle, CamelBak, snack bars, climbing rope and slings, harness, carabiners, and the multitool. Ahh, the multitool. The knock-off knife becomes one of the film’s character. Every time it appears, there is a little gasp from the audience — you know what’s coming, you just don’t know when. Boyle deftly milks this anticipation.
He also develops our attachment to Franco by keeping him squarely in that canyon; he never portrays Ralston in the flashback scenes, which keeps us pinned to Franco as tightly as he is pinned by that rock. Another way Boyle keeps viewers focused on that canyon is through his range of camera angles. This film clearly was shot with cameras suited to tight spaces — which surely helped Franco feel trapped and, in turn, express that feeling to the audience.
One of the best moments in the film comes late, just after Ralston wins the battle of the boulder: He says, “Thank you.” To what or who is never made clear. Is he thanking the rock for releasing him? Is he thanking the rock for showing him what’s truly important in life? Is he thanking some higher power for allowing him to survive? It’s a delicious ambiguity that will charge a post-screening conversation.
Ralston sees himself as a hard case who can handle anything. That same “I can do anything” attitude that got him stuck in the first place is what saves him in the end. Which leaves us with an intriguing question: Does Ralston’s experience change him, or does it merely reinforce his bravado?
Walking out of the screening, there was a lot of conversation about peoples willingness to take that bold, decisive action that saved Ralston’s life. The measure of the film’s effect on me will be clear the next time I’m heading out on a hike. I’ll be sure I leave a note and carry a sharp Leatherman.
NOTE: Ralston’s book, Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place, is a good read if the film left any questions unanswered for you. Also look at Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why by Laurence Gonzales. Ralston displays most of Gonzales’ Twelve inner survival techniques.
