127 Hours (Rated R)

Aron Ralston (winningly portrayed by Oscar-nominated James Franco), an experienced 27-year-old canyoneer, struck out before dawn on April 26, 2003, to do what he loved: explore the remote back country of Utah. This fateful day, before leaving home, he fails to pick up his ringing phone, and misses a chance to connect with his mother and tell her where he is going. He stops at Blue John Canyon where the day dawns sunny and bright, and he soon crosses paths with two young, female hikers. Aron delights in showing them the hidden treasures studded among the stunning landscape. They splash in an underground pool before parting. Aron strikes out on his own; the solitude with the land feeds him. He jumps confidently rock to rock. Before descending a narrow passageway, he tests an 800-pound boulder to make sure it’s stationary. It seems immovable, but the boulder tumbles after him pinning his right forearm against the canyon wall. Shocked but fascinated, resourceful but underprepared, Aron matter-of-factly instructs himself not to lose it. He’s in deep trouble with little hope of rescue. He conserves his meager supplies, and uses a dull knife to scrape away at the boulder, making little progress. As hours drag into days, that dull knife moves center stage. Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire) directs this fictionalized adaptation of Ralston’s memoir, Between a Rock and a Hard Place, with the same fierce, frenetic style that so effectively captured the vibrant energy of Mumbai, India in Slumdog, propelling it to an Oscar win. But, although this too was nominated for Best Picture, here that style jars. The film demands viewer vigilance as it cuts back and forth in time mixing reality (graphic reality) with delirious fantasy (or are they visions?). Some viewers will find the film life-affirming, but mostly I just felt sick, dreading the cut that would set him free.

Blue Valentine (Rated R)

About halfway through this nearly two-hour film, I noticed flashes of light from my neighbors’ cell phone texts. Not even a frank depiction of oral sex could hold their interest, although it generated plenty of pre-release fuss; the film originally slapped with the dreaded NC-17 rating. The talented duo of Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams (nominated for Best Actress), play a Scranton, Pa., couple whose marriage has hit the skids—hard. Through a creative and seamless use of time (but not conventional flashbacks), we also see them as a young couple in love. Gosling plays Dean as a sexy underachiever, a high school dropout working for a moving company. He’s awed by Williams, who plays Cindy, a college student with dreams of being a doctor. Her home life stinks where her father is an abusive tyrant. Cindy’s chief emotional outlet is loving a grandmother who doesn’t yell. That is, until Dean arrives and persistently woos her. On an early date, he sings (goofily) and she dances (also goofily); it’s charming. At that moment, the film is rich with possibility. But, along with that of my texting neighbors, my interest soon faded, even with the news of Cindy’s unplanned pregnancy. While Dean is a devoted father, he still drinks too much, and his aimless personality doesn’t change. Doctor dreams deferred, Cindy is a now a capable nurse, but she’s hardened her heart to Dean. Their last-ditch efforts to rekindle romance are pathetic, but not heartbreaking. In the post-film-ladies-room-line critique, several women said, “I kept thinking it would get better.” Me too; it didn’t.

No Strings Attached (Rated R)

Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman star as Adam and Emma in this predictable, raunchy romance from director Ivan Reitman that poses the question: Can a relationship of just sex lead to love? The talented Portman is more accessible here (think Garden State) than in her honored Black Swan role, but this is no Oscar contender. The film opens 15 years earlier with Adam and Emma meeting cute at summer camp. Adam, whom we later learn is a generally good guy, crudely propositions Emma. While she demurs, a spark is ignited and through magical, cinematic circumstances they cross paths again and again until they finally “hook-up” as adults. Now, she’s a harried LA doctor and he is a lowly production assistant desperate to establish his own career in the wake of his famous but dissolute father. In a role reversal that may be intended to empower women, Emma is the one who wants just sex, while Adam, the romantic, (and more emotionally stable one), longs for a more meaningful relationship. Both are surrounded by gaggles of friends, Jake Johnson and Ludacris in Adam’s ring and Greta Gerwig and Minda Kaling in Emma’s corner, offering the requisite good and bad advice. They’re quite good. Kevin Kline is also amusing in the small part as Adam’s lecherous father. Here as in the recent Drew Barrymore/Justin Long vehicle, Going the Distance, the casual, frequent use of vulgar, sexually-explicit language was like crows cawing in my ear, tonally at odds with the underlying sweetness of at least one of the characters. Sometimes, less is more.

The King’s Speech (Rated R)

Nominated for a slew of Oscars (12), this crowd-pleasing film is one of the few contenders that hasn’t generated a maelstrom of critical controversy. No sex, no violence, the R rating is for salty language spewed in frustration by Colin Firth as King George VI, the future king of England. He leads a team of Oscar nominees including Geoffrey Rush as Lionel Logue, his eccentric speech therapist, and Helena Bonham Carter as his devoted wife, Queen Elizabeth; they’re all outstanding. But, the film’s success largely rides on Firth’s convincing and sympathetic portrait of a reluctant king with a major speech impediment. Through flashbacks we get a sense of his gilded, stilted and lonely life with a tyrannical father who had little sympathy for a young son who stammered. At his wife’s urging, Bertie (as George VI is known to his family) surreptitiously meets with Logue, an unconventional “therapist” who insists that in their sessions they meet as equals. This does not sit well with the short-tempered royal. But under Bertie’s rage lies a sensitive soul who comes to not only rely on Logue, but to understand all he’s lost by being a creature of privilege. His feckless older brother, Edward VIII (played by an excellent Guy Pearce) in line for the throne, abdicates to marry the notorious American divorcée, Wallis Simpson, thrusting Bertie into the limelight. Dark clouds gather over England as Hitler marches across Europe and threatens England’s freedom. The English people already have the pugnacious, articulate Churchill waiting in the wings to succeed Hitler-appeasing Neville Chamberlin, but in these troubled times, they also crave inspiration from an eloquent monarch.

Another Year (Rated PG-13)

The changing seasons in the life of an average couple in London frame this quiet, character-driven gem from the veteran, British director Mike Leigh. Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen flawlessly play Tom and Gerri, one of those enviable, long-married, slightly smug couples completely at ease with themselves and each other. He is an engineering geologist and she a counselor. They enjoy their work, but even more satisfying is the time they spend tending their garden, tilling the soil, planting vegetables, and harvesting the bounty. Natural caretakers of not only the soil, they also provide on-going refuge for one of Ruth’s co-workers, Mary (Lesley Manville in a heart-breaking performance). She’s one of those needy, boundary-challenged women many of us go out of our way to avoid, darting into another aisle in the grocery store when we spot them coming our way. Every conversation revolves around her; the mundane issues of life like buying a used car or negotiating traffic recounted in tedious detail. She gulps copious amounts of wine, flirts shamelessly with men, and openly disdains any woman she views as competition. She’d be easy to write off as a tiresome, middle-aged alcoholic. But, Manville makes her shine with a sympathetic patina that never completely rubs off. It’s easy to like the Toms and Gerris of the world, but it’s the lonely, desperate Marys who challenge us to open our hearts and homes.

Beth is a freelance writer who specializes in film reviews and narrative non-fiction. Let Beth know what you think about her reviews at beth@bethlambdin.com.