I saw Danny Boyle's new movie, 127 Hours, last night. I had been looking forward to this film with some trepidation as we all know what happens to the protagonist's right arm. I was cheered by the thought that it was only an hour and a half long. Then the movie started.
It started with a series of shots of crowds of people. Lots of people. Then it focused on Aron Ralston (James Franco) getting ready to go hang out in the desert. And not answering the phone when his mother called. And not telling his co-worker where exactly where he was going to trek that day.
Next we see him on his bike. He's going to beat the best record to get from here to there. Then he falls. Thus nature can screw you up. He gets back up and gets going again. Then he meets up with two lost girls. Helps them find their way. They separate. He falls down a crevice and gets stuck. He yells for help. No one hears him.
The rest of the movie has Aron trying to free himself, recording himself on his camera, rationing his water, etc. This short movie felt so much longer than it really was. I so very much wanted to like it. There were so many flashbacks, "hallucinations", montages, and weird scenes that just didn't make sense to me that it detracted from the experience. It was a relief that the movie finally got down to business and Aron freed himself. Perhaps I am shallow, perhaps other events in my life or my mood affected my view of the movie but I felt it was trying too hard to be "artsy" or something and I think it failed for me on that level. There was a story and it was a simple one. I truly adored Slumdog Millionaire and its story. I think Boyle told that story very, very well. This time out, he lost me.
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