The Grey
Directed by Joe Carnahan
Released in 2012
In
my minutely-partitioned movie collection, there is a little section I like to
call “old men kicking ass.” The subgenre hit its peak in 2008 when Hollywood realized
the youth demographic revered the aging action stars from the 70’s and 80’s (Chuck Norris jokes may be somewhat
responsible). We saw Clint Eastwood and Michael Caine pulverize punks in Gran Torino and Harry Brown, and Sylvester Stallone slurred at anything that moved
in reboots to the Rocky and Rambo franchises, not to mention
regrouping the Rogaine collective in The
Expendables.
Guilt by proximity places the Liam
Neeson of Taken in this category as
well, as a 56-year-old clearing a yacht full of machinegun-wielding thugs using
only a pistol and no apparent shortness of breath strikes us as rather
exceptional. Neeson may be a few years under the median of the rest of these
gentlemen, but his association in the badass elder enclave stands strong.
When I buy Mr. Neeson’s latest film The
Grey — which I will do considering
it is, itself, rather exceptional — I will
not place it besides these vigilante senior pictures. This film has something
profound to say, not (wolf) skulls to crush, though the aggressive marketing
campaign insists on the latter. The Grey
creeps into heavy philosophical territory without pretension but with the
innate terror — and, conversely, Zen — these situations carry. For me, that trumps any mindless
action rehash, even with the novelty of an old man holding the gun.
Ottway (Neeson) is at the end of the
line. He addresses ambiguous notes to his unseen wife and finds himself pulling
a gun to his brain in the plot’s first
five minutes. Symbolic events ensue and he ends up on an airplane with a crew
of oil drillers headed to Northern Alaska. They do not make it there. In a
stunning scene, the plane rips from the sky in a whirling blur of chaos,
silence and light. Seven survivors plus one dying one make it through the
crash. That man’s death — which Ottway softly eases him into — throws the film as far away from the hyper pulp of Taken as possible, if the initial
suicide attempt did not already come to that conclusion.
The terrible plane crash actually
brings Ottway back to life. Not to the extremes of Locke’s reaffirming rebirth in Lost, but more a solemn commitment to save those still with him.
His official job in the oil operation is to snipe encroaching wolves, so he
knows a few tricks to sustain survival. Unsurprisingly, the crash reduced his
rifle to splinters so the circling wolves indisputably have the upper hand.
These savage canines — whose depiction conservationists call deceptive while Joe
Carnahan, the director, defends as plausible — pick off
the survivors one-by-one, with different tactics each time. The realism of the
wolves’ stalking, strategizing,
bloodletting may be questionable, but I have seen enough Planet Earth to know that nature is cruel, and it would not
surprise me if apex predators, evolved to dominate in the harshest of climates,
could wipe out our truly weak species.
Carnahan takes cues from Spielberg
by keeping the wolves off-screen for the most part. Relegating the animals to
blurs of grey fur and echoing howls creates creatures far more terrifying than
what Canis lupis truly are: a few
nucleotides away from Air Bud. Jaws
set the precedent for the unseen, and thus omnipresent, monster (actually due
to malfunctions on-set that Spielberg took in stride). These wolves could be
anywhere, but are always in mind.
But enough about these damn wolves,
sharks and boogeymen, for the story cares little about them. Instead, it
thrusts men into the most primal of scenarios, where it is not only necessary
to kill, but almost impossible to do so. This crew of ex-cons, fugitives and
thieves — “men unfit for mankind,” as Ottway
describes, though others might just call them “manly men” — falls
victim to the elements with shocking passivity. Diaz, played by Frank Grillo and
by far the most captivating of the supporting characters, brutally dismembers a
wolf carcass as the rest of the survivors watch in concern. It is not a look of
disgust as much as fear that this loss of humanity lurks around the corner for
them, as well.
Dread as bleak as Alaska’s whiteout tundra permeates every scene of this film,
though spiritual catharsis joins in tandem for a few provocative moments.
Prayer is both futile and vital. Under such duress, most would turn to a higher
power for aid, but what can He do? Screenwriters Carnahan and Ian Mackenzie
Jeffers play the middle ground, leaving the message fulfilling to those with
and without faith. Distributor Open Road Films actually released a companion
pamphlet aimed at Christian audiences, saying The Grey “provides
men with an opportunity to discover the many ways in which they can better face
a life in which spiritual warfare – the
battle for our individual souls – is a hard
reality.” Perhaps pushing the card a
bit, but the poetic last scene will leave it up to any interpretation.
There is one scene that will sear
into your conscience. A character gives up, but not in the way you would
expect. Carnahan stages an incredibly long shot, proving great courage on his
own part (he directed the bombastically mediocre A-Team reboot after all) and balances terror and serenity with
minimalist precision.
The solid cast of I’ve-seen-that-face-before character actors and the script’s decency to give us a decent look into their humble lives
brings a complete, circular structure to the plot and themes. It is a heavy
movie for the multiplex, especially considering many are expecting Taken 3 (2011’s Unknown was the
spiritual sequel) and do not anticipate a Jack London-esque contemplation on
nature, death and faith, in all the agony and peace and yin and yang that they
carry.
This strife serves as the perfect
vehicle for the film’s titan,
Liam Neeson. His rugged but mortal face completely fills the poster. It is a
handsome face, well-suited for close-ups, not unlike the symbolic tarmacs of
Clint Eastwood or Dustin Hoffman. His presence guarantees quality regardless if
the rest is camp or craft. He dominates the screen. How could wolves think they
stand a chance?
Final Verdict:
4 Stars out of 5
This article was originally written for The Cornell Daily Sun and can be viewed at its original location via this link.
This article was originally written for The Cornell Daily Sun and can be viewed at its original location via this link.
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