127 Hours Page #16
CUT TO:
EXT. CANYON. SUNRISE.
Hundreds of miles of canyon - sunrise. The inner canyons
change from dark umbers and black shadows to immense bands of
pastel yellow, white, green and a hundred shades of red, a
hallucinogenic movement towards light.
V.O.
`Good morning America!' etc.
There's a chorus of 'Good Mornings' from American TV & radio
shows. Literally dozens of them from Texas to Oregon,
Massachusetts to the Carolinas.
CUT TO:
TITLE:
" TUESDAY ":
CUT TO:
53.
INT. CANYON. MORNING. VIDEO FOOTAGE.
Aron joins the morning chorus.
ARON:
Good morning everyone! It's 6:45
Tuesday morning in BJ Canyon. The
weather is great! I figure by now
that Leona, my housemate - Hi
Leona! - has missed me hopefully
since I didn't show up last night.
Another hour and a half they'll
miss me for not showing up for
work. Hi Brion at work! Best case
scenario is they notify the police
and after a 24 hour hold they file
a report, a missing persons report.
Which means noon tomorrow it's
official that I'm gone. I do still
have the tiniest bit of water left.
Well, actually, I've resorted...I've
had a couple pretty good gulps of
urine that I saved in my Camelbak.
I sorta let it distill...it tastes
like hell. So it's 70 hours since
I left on my bike from Horseshoe
Trailhead during which time I have
consumed 3 liters of water and a
couple mouthfuls of piss.
Pause.
Did I say the weather is great?
Well, it is. Though flash floods
potential is still present. There's
4-prong major canyons upstream from
me that all converge in this 3 foot
wide gap where I am. The rock I
pulled down on top of me, it was
put there by flood.
PAUSE:
Still, I'd get a drink.
He shudders, it's ridiculous.
Then composes himself during a long blink and looks straight
at the camera.
ARON (CONT'D)
Mom, Dad, I really love you guys.
I wanted to take this time to say
the times we've spent together have
been awesome. I haven't appreciated
you in my own heart the way I know
I could. Mom, I love you. I wish
I'd returned all of your calls,
ever.
(MORE)
54.
ARON (CONT'D)
I really have lived this last year.
I wish I had learned some lessons
more astutely, more rapidly, than I
did. I love you. I'll always be
with you.
CUT TO:
INT. CANYON. MORNING.
Switches off the camera.
He charges into setting up the 6:1 haul system again. Much
quicker this time. He clears the rope - the rock - of his
possessions and puts his sunglasses on.
ARON:
Ready for lift-off.
He bounces his full weight in the stirrups and pulls on the
haul line. It looks a better set up.
ARON (CONT'D)
Come on, move, dammit.
Nothing. He stops. And stares directly at the knife below
him. Absolute stillness. Nothing moves. Not him. Not even
the insects.
CUT TO:
INT. CANYON. MORNING.
CUT TO:
INT. CANYON. MORNING.
Without warning he suddenly tourniquets his arm again . Twice
around the fore arm, knotted twice and clipped with a
carabiner that he twists 6 times. He secures the fix by
attaching the purple webbing.
Looks to his watch
CUT TO:
C/U:
DIGITAL NUMERALS7:
58AM.CUT TO:
55.
INT. CANYON. DAY.
He folds open the knife, grasps it in his fist and picking a
spot just above the rock's grip on his right wrist, he
hesitates and then violently plunges the blade into his arm
up to the hilt.
He lets go leaving the knife embedded. He swoons and stares
at it. He slowly grasps the tool more firmly and wriggles it
slightly, the blade connects with something hard. He taps the
knife down and feels it knocking on the radius of his upper
forearm bone.
He puts his ear close and we can hear the little thocking
sound.
ARON:
Whoa, that's the bone.
He pulls the knife out opening the wound more. There's barely
any blood. He pokes at the gash with the tool.
ARON (CONT'D)
Ouch!
He can see the epidermis, thick and leathery rough. Yellow
fatty tissue under the skin in a membrane layer around the
muscle. He thocks, thocks again and some blood finally seeps
out and blocks his view. He pulls the knife out and thinks.
He's sweating and puts the tool on top of the chockstone.
He immediately pulls up his water bottle and stares into it.
With a little shake he opens it and drinks it all gulping
open throated. He shakes any last drop down and runs his
tongue up into the neck. He screws the lid back on and
loosens the tourniquet. There's no discernible increase in
blood loss.
CUT TO:
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"127 Hours" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/127_hours_1466>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In