The Gorge: A Bold but Flawed Genre Experiment
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| Image: Skydance / Apple TV+ |
At its core, The Gorge follows Levi (Miles
Teller) and Drasa (Anya Taylor-Joy), two elite snipers stationed on
opposite ends of a mist-choked ravine. Their mission? To guard against whatever
unseen horrors lurk below. But duty takes a backseat as their isolation gives
way to connection, with whispered radio transmissions blossoming into something
deeper. What begins as a taut thriller laced with existential dread morphs into
a forbidden romance—one that’s as bold as it is, at times, frustratingly
underdeveloped.
On paper, this premise is gold. A mysterious war zone, an
abyss filled with untold horrors, and two warriors bound by duty but drawn
together by loneliness—it’s the kind of setup that should have genre fans
salivating. And the opening act leans into the intrigue, teasing out questions:
What’s in the gorge? Why are they really here? The problem? Instead of
deepening the mystery, the film pivots hard into the romance, sidelining much
of its fascinating world-building. The love story is essential, but the transition
often feels jarring, leaving promising sci-fi elements underexplored.
Anya Taylor-Joy is, unsurprisingly, a powerhouse. As Drasa,
she balances resilience and vulnerability with effortless precision, crafting a
character who feels both steely and deeply human. Teller, as Levi,
embodies the battle-worn soldier archetype well, layering his performance with
quiet turmoil and a touch of yearning. Their chemistry? It flickers rather than
ignites—moments of tenderness work, but at times, the script strains to
convince us of their profound, soul-altering connection. It’s a case of telling
rather than showing, and that lack of organic buildup dulls some of the
film’s emotional impact.
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| Image: Skydance / Apple TV+ |
Visually, though? The Gorge is an absolute stunner.
Derrickson, known for his atmospheric work in Sinister and The Black
Phone, teams up with cinematographer Dan Laustsen to craft a
breathtaking, eerie landscape. The gorge itself is a character—its fog-cloaked
depths pulsing with an almost Lovecraftian menace. The contrast between stark,
desolate war zones and the intimate spaces Levi and Drasa carve out for
themselves adds to the film’s visual poetry.
But where Derrickson nails the aesthetic, the pacing and
tone falter. Some scenes linger too long, while others rush past moments that
demand more breathing room. The action sequences, while solidly executed, lack
that oomph—they’re competently staged but never quite pulse-pounding.
The result is a film that never fully settles into a rhythm, making it hard to
stay fully immersed.
Thematically, The Gorge toys with weighty ideas—duty
versus desire, isolation as both a prison and a catalyst, love as a form of
rebellion. But instead of fully committing to these explorations, it flits
between them, leaving some of its most compelling threads dangling. There’s a
version of this movie that leans into its existential horror potential, or one
that fully embraces the doomed, operatic romance. Instead, we get a film that
tries to do both and, in the process, doesn’t quite satisfy either.
The Gorge is a daring, stylish experiment that never
fully sticks the landing. It’s visually mesmerizing and boasts strong lead
performances, but its inconsistent pacing, underdeveloped world-building, and
forced romance hold it back from true greatness. If you love Derrickson’s moody
directorial style or appreciate genre mashups that take big swings, it’s worth
a watch—or honestly, just watch it because Anya Taylor-Joy is in it, and she’s
phenomenal. But if you’re hoping for a tightly crafted sci-fi thriller or a
love story that truly devastates, this might leave you more intrigued by what could
have been than what actually is. Frankly, if Skydance had expanded this
into a six- or eight-episode series, it could have been an absolute smash hit.
Catch this sci-fi/action/romance now streaming on Apple TV+
