Rated R

In 2003, Aron Ralston went for a hike in Canyonlands National Park in Utah. It was supposed to be a short, simple hike and climb through Bluejohn Canyon, but after a loose boulder pinned Ralston’s arm to the side of the canyon, it became a five-day nightmare. Ralston had little food, even less water, some climbing gear, a small camcorder, and a cheap multi-tool with a dull blade. On the brink of death and delirious from days without food or water, Ralston devised a grisly solution. He walked out of the canyon (and hiked eight miles back to the start of the trail) minus an arm but with a new lease on life.

Ralston’s story is thrilling and, in some ways, inspiring, but it’s not exactly silver screen material. Sure, there’s drama, tension, and a visceral climax that’s equal parts pure terror and immeasurable endurance, but there’s also 90 or so minutes of one man stuck in an unchanging place, with only a few ants, a raven, and his hallucinations to keep him company. Except, “127 Hours” is directed by Danny Boyle, for whom the limitations of one character trapped in a single location are really more of an opportunity seized than a burden to be shouldered. 

The film is based on Ralston’s book “Between a Rock and a Hard Place,” which documents his ordeal. Boyle’s last film, 2008’s “Slumdog Millionaire,” was big in every aspect, a free-ranging fairy tale that capped things off with an elaborate Bollywood-inspired musical number. By comparison, “127 Hours” is far smaller but more intense. When we first meet Ralston, portrayed here by James Franco, he’s in a rush to get out of his apartment and on the road to his hiking trip. But even when he’s on the trail, Ralston’s still in a hurry—he wants to shave 45 minutes off what his guidebook calls a four-plus-hour hike. That he stops to help a pair of young women who’ve wandered off the trail (and show them a hidden underground pool) shows that Ralston’s impatience is trumped only by his cockiness. 

Until, of course, that boulder shows up, and Ralston’s minutes become interminable and his hours and days become a test of physical and psychological wherewithal. It’s here that “127 Hours” is at its most kinetic and Franco most fully embodies his role. Trapped in the canyon, Ralston talks to himself—and to the small video camera he’s brought with him—incessantly. In one scene, he casts himself as the host of and guest on a morning radio talk show. He recaps his ordeal—how he didn’t tell anyone where he was going and how, as a volunteer with a rescue service, he knows salvation is a long shot. Boyle gives the scene motion and vibrancy, but Franco gives it raw feeling, making jokes through gritted teeth but broadcasting panic and pain through his eyes and elastic face. It’s an incredible performance, one that will likely define Franco’s career for years to come.

Boyle and his “Slumdog” writing partner Simon Beaufoy give Franco plenty to work with. As Ralston slips in and out of consciousness, his mind travels. Sometimes, it’s memories of ex-girlfriends and family, a catalog of should-haves, could-haves, and other regrets that accumulate in life. Other times, it’s visions of parties, dramatic rescues, and second chances. They’re not major moments, but in the context of an immovable boulder, they take on tremendous heft. These moments lend the film a motion and energy that’s improbable and thrilling. Boyle’s direction doesn’t allow for a minute of rest, even though “127 Hours” is confined to one place. Instead of being distracting, the pace is uplifting, and the rapid cuts, dream sequences, and other tricks allow for a film that’s tense and tinged with hope rather than one that’s boring and lined with despair. It’s too bad Boyle didn’t spend a little more time on Ralston’s character—his family, the blond ex-girlfriend that haunts his memories, how his life brought him to that boulder—but with a focus so tight yet fleeting, and with an actor as talented as Franco, it’s easy to see why Boyle left the task of filling in Ralston’s character to Franco’s performance.

How Ralston made it out of the canyon is well-known, and that dull-bladed multi-tool takes center stage in the film’s now-infamous climax (it reportedly caused audience members at early screenings to pass out). It’s an excruciating, cathartic moment, one that’s necessary for the story but ultimately beside the point. Ralston’s 127 hours in the canyon were the real journey; the arm and the boulder were just the destination. Thanks to Boyle and Franco, we’re only seeing snapshots from the trip, but they feel just like being there.