"The Grey"

*****

"Once more unto the fray
To fight the last fight I'll ever know.
Live or die on this day.
Live or die on this day."

It seems the competition for my favorite movie of 2012 has begun much earlier than I expected. I honestly didn't anticipate this. Director Joe Carnahan is responsible for movies like The A-Team and Smokin' Aces; in other words, fun, bit silly and ridiculous. But here he has given us an incredible movie, a reminder of the creeping dread great cinema can sometimes inspire. I'm pretty jaded in this respect; loads of thrillers and horror movies have left me fairly desensitized to the tricks of most movies. But I felt this one in the pit of my stomach, a queasy sensation I'd forgotten, and was thrilled to be reacquainted with. The movie doesn't even look like Carnahan's other efforts. This one's lean and mean, raw and real, and punctuated by imagery both beautiful and terrible. The script (by Carnahan and Ian Mackenzie Jeffers) is wonderful and sometimes poetic, but like the wild, it is without pity. There is no sentimentalizing here.

The movie begins in silence: the title emerges as if from a fog, and then we see the wild; an image of rock and tree and snow that instantly evokes the idea of cold, creeping death. And I'm already hooked. A voice rises, Ottway's (Liam Neeson), poetically describing the oil rig he works on as a kind of hell, populated by people "unfit to interact with society." He works as a sharpshooter, killing wolves to protect the men working in the field. But as the movie opens he is pondering another use for that rifle: in a beautiful juxtaposition he rests his hand on a dying wolf, feeling it's breath ebb, while in cross cuts he puts the barrel in his mouth, and reaches for the trigger. He doesn't do it, for we then see him boarding a plane with the rest of the crew. Some are heading out to see family, some to party, some to get laid. He's carrying a letter, headed "Dearest One." We get glimpses of the woman the letter is for (Anne Openshaw) lying in bed with him, her hand on his face, looking beatific and angelic. But there's heavy turbulence, then heavier turbulence, and then, in one of the best sequences of it's type I've ever seen, the plane goes down. 7 survive, but then there's the wild. And the wolves. And that ever-growing queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. There is an incredible moment about midway through. The survivors have gathered round a hastily started fire and watch the tree line around them. We hear the wolves out there, but can't see them. Then, following a terrible growl from what we learn is the Alpha of this pack, silence. And then, as we look up a ridge, a single howl sounds out. We don't see the source, but suddenly a plume of breath appears from the blackness, just caught by the firelight. It is joined by another, and another, and another as the rest of the wolves begin to howl. They are there, just beyond the light. This is incredibly chilling, and incredibly brilliant.

If there is justice in the world (and I fear there is not) we will be asking this time next year whether Liam Neeson will win an Oscar. It is amazing enough that he has discovered this niche as an action star late in life (he'll turn 60 in June), but here his undeniable "don't-mess-with-him" machismo is tempered by heart and a heavy burden. We believe that he could stand and lead in this situation, but we also see that he is broken. A scene where he cries to the heavens for help, for hope, for something, is heart-wrenching. I'd venture to say it's the best performance he's ever given. He recites the lines at the head of this post three times in the movie, each time evoking a different sense of meaning from the words, as his character goes from being ready to die by his own hand, to fighting his hardest to survive. The rest of the survivors are well written and admirably played, but this is Neeson's movie. And the wolves'.

This movie is dark and grim and as I said before utterly without pity. As are the wolves. As is the wild. But it is also incredibly powerful and emotionally resonant, and truly a masterpiece of suspense. It will likely haunt you after you leave the theater. It is still with me now, as I write this review 24 hours later. And some moments may be with me forever. And this movie will take its place as one of the greatest thrillers of the 21st century. Mark my words.