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Kingsley Amis would have loved this
'The Grey': Man against nature
Jake Blumgart
The story of The Grey is simple: Liam Neeson leads a band of seven oil company grunts who are the only survivors of a plane crash in the Alaskan badlands. As it turns out, they've landed straight in the middle of a story out of Jack London's nightmares. Stalked by an improbably territorial pack of wolves, and beset by every conceivable form of cold death, the men begin to die.
The acting is quite good, and none of it is distractingly bad. Frank Grillo stands out as a militantly nasty outlaw named Diaz, who acclimates himself to Neeson's leadership as the full gravity of their situation sinks in. Neeson's quietly secular ministering to an expiring comrade is particularly well executed, bringing a certain bearing to the film that eludes, say, the Transformers movies.
The Grey's biggest flaw is the film's indulgence in flashbacks to Neeson's character's old life with his beloved wife and, later, to his childhood. These cloying scenes reveal little, and take us too far away from the icy world we otherwise inhabit.
In short, for a late winter action flick about fist-fighting wolves, The Grey is a surprisingly affecting film. But I found myself distracted from its icily immersive world by the guffaws and cackles of my fellow audience members.
To be sure, some of the dialogue is clichéd, but hey— these are oil rig workers, not Ralph Fiennes. And don't expect a documentary (these wolves act singularly unwolf-like). Just give yourself over to The Grey's world. That's why we go to movies.
Forgive me for extolling something that isn't Tolstoy or "The Wire." Remember Kingsley Amis, the esteemed social satirist, who for all his literary fame greatly enjoyed horror novels, crime and science fiction, and even wrote some of his own Grade-B fiction. These novels— as well as movies like The Grey (or last summer's X-Men: First Class)— can be a hell of a lot of fun. And that can be worth just as much as the latest think piece.
Besides, this film does make you think: The men in The Grey are forced to live with the brutal truth that "things that happened only to other people could in fact happen to me," as Joan Didion put it in The White Album. The Grey gives you that existential chill, scarier than any wolf.
The acting is quite good, and none of it is distractingly bad. Frank Grillo stands out as a militantly nasty outlaw named Diaz, who acclimates himself to Neeson's leadership as the full gravity of their situation sinks in. Neeson's quietly secular ministering to an expiring comrade is particularly well executed, bringing a certain bearing to the film that eludes, say, the Transformers movies.
The Grey's biggest flaw is the film's indulgence in flashbacks to Neeson's character's old life with his beloved wife and, later, to his childhood. These cloying scenes reveal little, and take us too far away from the icy world we otherwise inhabit.
In short, for a late winter action flick about fist-fighting wolves, The Grey is a surprisingly affecting film. But I found myself distracted from its icily immersive world by the guffaws and cackles of my fellow audience members.
To be sure, some of the dialogue is clichéd, but hey— these are oil rig workers, not Ralph Fiennes. And don't expect a documentary (these wolves act singularly unwolf-like). Just give yourself over to The Grey's world. That's why we go to movies.
Forgive me for extolling something that isn't Tolstoy or "The Wire." Remember Kingsley Amis, the esteemed social satirist, who for all his literary fame greatly enjoyed horror novels, crime and science fiction, and even wrote some of his own Grade-B fiction. These novels— as well as movies like The Grey (or last summer's X-Men: First Class)— can be a hell of a lot of fun. And that can be worth just as much as the latest think piece.
Besides, this film does make you think: The men in The Grey are forced to live with the brutal truth that "things that happened only to other people could in fact happen to me," as Joan Didion put it in The White Album. The Grey gives you that existential chill, scarier than any wolf.
What, When, Where
The Grey. A film directed by Joe Carnahan. For Philadelphia area show times, click here.
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