Saturday, October 30, 2010

127 Hours.

I watched this movie, and it got really up close and personal with James Franco/Aron Ralston. It's interesting to think a whole movie can hinge on a singular actor's performance. He did it beautifully.

From the first beginning scenes when you see him try to reach in the cabinet for the legit Swiss army knife he owned, and in his haste (how we've all been there), leaves the house.

We all know what's going to happen, but it's like we're re-watching the tape to see how it will unfold. You can see each frame coalescing to something that will ultimately make this carefree young man make one of the most adult decisions anyone will ever have to.

And then there's that 'scene'. We all know what I'm talking about. Aron Ralston, through days of mental anguish and having to imbibe his own urine, figures he'll have to cut his own arm to survive. He thinks about the beautiful girl who records herself provocatively and blows a kiss at him using his video camera, unbeknownst to him only days earlier. When he was on top of the world. Smiling but crushed, he gathers his dormant reserves of strength and goes for it. Not wanting the girl exactly, but wanting what she is symbolizing.

I related to this sentiment so much. You're just being chained back by something, maybe you can't see it so tangibly as a HUGE rock on your forearm, but it weighs you down just this same. And you have to break away.

The hardest part is having the true commitment to do it and follow through. As we saw in the movie, once you make that stab in your flesh to break away, it's ... official. Near the end, he must snap the tendon. I hear the snap and I grimace and yell out in my room, "AGHHH!!" It was one of the most visceral cinematic experiences I've ever had.

This was a spectacular movie that just had me in tears. Totally ace.

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