The Grey
Open Road Films
R
117 Minutes
2012
The wonderful thing about art is that it speaks to everyone differently. Songs, films, paintings, poems - what may be solely entertaining, or not at all, to some could be profound to someone else. Such was the case when I saw The Grey.
The trailers make it seem like an edge-of-your-seat thriller about men trapped in the Alaskan wilderness, fighting to stay alive against deadly cold and even more deadly ravenous wolves, and it certainly is that at times. However, The Grey is so much more than an action-adventure film. In truth, it has more in common with horror films and character-based dramas that elevates it to something transcendant for me.
The Grey is about the fight for survival, and what men must do to stay alive. It's about confronting your fears and staring down the inevitable. It's about finding the reason to live, and realizing that no one is going to help you if you don't help yourself.
It's kind of hard to believe the film was directed by Joe Carnahan, the man responsible for braindead cinematic drivel such as Smokin' Aces and The A-Team, but Carnahan was also responsible for another one of my all-time favorite films, NARC, which also focused on strong characterization over action.
The scenes where the small band of survivors are hunted are truly terrifying in a very real way. This isn't the intangible horror of haunted houses and supernatural entities, but the primal terror of man vs. beast. The odds are nearly impossible, and the men in this film know it. It's written all over their faces, even through the veneer of trying to act tough.
Taking cues from many of the best horror films, The Grey chooses not to show too much of the wolves themselves, opting instead to remind the viewers of their near-constant presence in the darkness - just beyond the safety of a campfire's light - with glowing eyes and puffs of breath that slowly spiral into the air as they howl. And those howls will send chills down your spine, believe me.
But The Grey also chooses to focus on the human element of the story. It's a film filled with poignant moments. In one particularly moving scene, the survivors share their reasons for living - the one thing in their lives that they're holding onto to spur them on, in the hopes they'll make it back to them. Each man harbors no illusions about their chances, and in one particularly harrowing scene, a man confronts his greatest fear, knowing full well he will likely not survive.
Some critics may claim the film is too obvious with its foreshadowing, but they're missing the point. I don't think it's any kind of spoiler to confirm that not all the men survive, and in one particular case, not only does the viewer know who is next in line, so does that character. The point isn't to surprise the viewer with some unexpected twist, but to show them that it's better to die trying than to just give up. If they overcome their fears, people are capable of extraordinary acts of courage in the worst situations, and the knowledge that death may be the outcome is the biggest roadblock of all.
No scene in the film was quite as powerful for me, however, as its final minutes, and I'm going to explain why. Last summer, I lost my girlfriend unexpectedly to a bloodclot. I received a call from her sister at work and by the time I made it to the hospital, my beautiful 33-year-old girlfriend was gone. She had just moved in only three months prior, and we were planning on being married in 2012. To say this event shook my faith is an understatement, so perhaps it will give you some perspective as to why the scene that shows Neeson shouting at the sky for God to show him something that will make him believe affected me so deeply. After moments of silence, Neeson simply says, "Fuck it. I'll do it myself."
Some viewers may find this scene blasphemous, but at that moment, I connected with Ottway more than any film character in memory. I found it uplifting in a way. Instead of waiting on some omniscient entity to help him, Ottway takes matters into his own hands, as people should do instead of waiting for things to be handed down from on high. I'm sure we've all heard someone proclaim they've asked God for help, or left matters in God's hands and whatever will be will be, but that's not enough for Ottway. He's going to do whatever he can to change his situation instead of sitting back and waiting to see how things play out.
The film's climax follows shortly thereafter, and without giving it away, I will just say that one single camera shot tore my heart right out of my chest. Again, it directly relates to the personal tragedy I've suffered, but I was so shaken by it that I couldn't even speak afterward. Both my brother and I had to compose ourselves after we left the theater before we could even discuss the film.
The Grey is a motion picture that same may find slow. I imagine many will leave disappointed that they didn't get to see Liam Neeson kicking wolf ass and taking names, and that's fine. To each their own. For me, it was profoundly affecting in a way that no movie in recent memory has been. The wolves and wilderness are merely the backdrop for the human story about holding onto life and staring death full in the face without fear. Beautiful cinematography and a powerhouse performance from Neeson could make it an Oscar contender next year, if the studio does in fact re-release it this October as rumors have suggested, but even without that industry validation, The Grey is a film that will haunt me for years to come and hands down the best picture I've seen in a very long time.
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