Marketing bait-and-switch tactics are nothing new, especially when it comes to the movies. But the instances where the film ends up being a more meaningful and impactful experience than any of the ads could have possibly indicated? Pretty rare. Luckily, The Grey is one of those films. You go in expecting some awesome Liam-on-wolf action interspersed with a plane crash and guys braving the Alaskan elements. You get all that, just not necessarily in the measurements or contexts you were thinking.
We start off with Neeson’s character, John Ottway, writing a letter to his wife. She’s gone, and if you’ve read up on the flick you may already know the context, but if you haven’t, you are left wondering.
It’s a great set up to the character and film – he’s on the edge of darkness both physically and mentally, and it’s a wolf’s cry that keeps him from taking an irreversible step – perhaps an overlooked irony by many once the movie ends.
Ottway wanders through the camp, fulfilling his duty, more like a zombie than a man. A ghost of whatever his former self was capable of being. He’s distant and cold like his surroundings, and when he gets on the plane to leave there’s a sense that he’s about to become even more lost. But that changes when a horrific crash results in Ottway being one of just eight survivors.
Minutes after they gather together to assess the situation, one of the men’s wounds take him. It’s a stirring scene that sets the dismal tone for the rest of the movie and features an inspired, brief exchange that Neeson pulls off perfectly. So with only seven left, they gather things together and start a fire. Night comes first. And then the wolves.
What follows is a thrilling horror film with plenty of dramatic elements. Each character is real, relatable, conflicted and contradictory. They are people and as they band together you can’t help but be enthralled with their fight for survival. Whether by the wolves, the elements, or each other, their numbers dwindle with time. But rather than a simple horror movie in a race to a last-man-standing battle, this film dares to have its characters think and ask questions. And it asks questions of us.

The brilliance of it lies in the fact that we aren’t allowed to just watch these characters fight for their lives, we are engaged within the experience. What would we do in those situations? What would we fight for? What would we believe? What would take us home?
Obviously these are huge questions, central to the core of any person and informing our entire worldview. And the survivors have differing answers to those questions, and ask different questions of their own. It’s not all in alignment, there is no agreement at the end of each conversation, and I think that’s the point. The movie starts with the premise that life is. It just is. Beyond that, we make choices, whether right or wrong, and it’s all we can do. What we believe, how we feel, how we act – all things that are up to us at any given moment, and capable of dramatic change depending on so many factors in our lives. So when it comes down to the line, when it’s just a case of survival and nothing else, the biggest question is – do we fight?
This movie features tough scenes and poses unflinching questions about life, love, and faith, and I was very moved by its raw emotional honesty. It’s affecting in an exact way that I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced before – it’s more than just the “slow burn” or cathartic/inspiring finish we so often see, it’s almost like a tantric exercise in the filmgoing experience. What I mean by that phrasing is that it’s a horror thriller with dramatic elements throughout the course of the story, with the balance constantly shifting up until the very end – when some questions are answered (“it’s worth fighting for”) and a whole slew of others are raised and left up to us. Some people may not like it, or they many find it unfulfilling at first, but I found it to be just what I needed to round out that story. It really is expertly crafted.
There came a moment during the lead up to the end where I thought they may close the movie in a certain way, and then they did. It took guts. It’s not some cheap trick to get sequels or to provoke a surface-level reaction in the audience – it’s a measured device that serves the story perfectly and provokes a serious gut-level reaction. It’s more than just the normal scrambling to answer questions when the credits roll.

If you’re squeamish with guts, whether visually or metaphorically, this may be too rough of an experience for you. And there’s nothing wrong with that. This film is most certainly not for everyone. It’s dark, it’s dismal, and it’s grim all the way through. That being said, if it’s the type of film that you are up for, it really can move you at your core – but only if you let it.