‘In The Grey’ Review: Guy Ritchie’s Exposition-Heavy Actioner Finds Some Spark, But Not Enough Personality

Guy Ritchie has never been one to let a good scheme go unappreciated, and as a filmmaker, he knows plot is only half of the con. The rest is in how you make the audience like being put through the wringer. You need a hidden account, a dashing little criminal, a debt or a betrayal, a loophole, and some favor owed. Put in a man with an odd name to spell out something impossibly complex while everyone else feigns comprehension, and you have it. When Ritchie is on form, he makes a rhythm out of all that complication. “Snatch” is a case in point; watch it for some proper Ritchie.

His newest action thriller, “In The Grey,” has all the makings of another fine pressure cooker. The locations are beautiful, the cast is attractive, there is serious money at play, and there is enough weaponry for a small army, not to mention the twitchy legal shenanigans. What it is short on, if not entirely lacking, is the kind of snap and charm that made “The Ministry Of Ungentlemanly Warfare” a recent pleasure, or the mirthful joy of “The Gentlemen,” where you found yourself caring for the characters.

READ MORE: ‘In The Grey’: Guy Ritchie On Making Exposition Entertaining, Original Action Movies, TV Success, and ‘Sherlock Holmes 3’ [Interview]

Written and directed by Ritchie, “In The Grey” stars Henry Cavill, Jake Gyllenhaal, Eiza González, Rosamund Pike, Carlos Bardem, and Fisher Stevens. The story follows a covert outfit hired by Manny Salazar to recover a billion dollars he has made off with. Salazar is a criminal who owns an island and is as ruthless as they come; what else you might want to know about him matters little to the script. Then there is Rachel Wild, played by González, an attorney with a specialty for working in the gray area where legal pressure gives way to criminal leverage. And when the talking stops, and the gunfire starts, Sid and Bronco, played by Cavill and Gyllenhaal, are there to see the plan through. They are more than up to the task.

On paper, the premise is pure catnip for Ritchie: unstable moral ground, high-level asset extraction, debt recovery, violence hovering just beyond the boardroom, and legality as a kind of performance. The film understands that terrain well enough, and it is certainly keen to show you the place where a silk shirt, a legal document, and a loaded gun are all part of the same negotiation.

But for all that, “In The Grey” has trouble with its momentum outside of the last act. It is too busy laying out the game to have any fun with it or give the characters much depth. Half the running time is given over to procedure and exposition. They explain the debt, the offshore structure, the legal pressure, the extraction plan, and how one thing ties into the other. Ritchie has a fondness for letting his people talk themselves into trouble. Still, here you are left with Cavill, Gyllenhaal, and González in various corners of the movie putting on a monotone explanation-fest.

Some of it is done with a certain cleverness. Ritchie can still make verbal jazz out of logistical nonsense if there is enough attitude and speed behind it. You see it when the characters go over the mechanics of a trap or an elaborate contingency, building a chaos machine for some fool to walk into. That part is entertaining enough.

Still, you can feel the balance slipping. The film keeps promising a big explosion and then delivers a finale that seems to run out of steam. With all that buildup, the last act ought to go off in every direction. What you get is rushed. There are chases, bullets, and explosions on the island, but where is the surprise? For 50 minutes or so, the movie is at pains to load the cannon, only to fire something closer to a party popper.

Then there are Cavill and Gyllenhaal to save the day. They have an easy, unforced chemistry that is often better than what they are given to work with. Cavill has a dry, square-jawed composure that suits Ritchie’s world; he looks like a man who could sort out a tactical issue, have a drink, and correct someone’s posture in one go. Damn, he would have made a fine Bond. Gyllenhaal, conversely, is looser, putting some comic charge into Bronco with his oddball ways, if not for a Boston accent that is frankly laughable. Put them together, though, and you have the film’s most dependable charm.

In their scenes, you can see the “In The Grey” that might have been. Let Sid and Bronco have at it with some banter and casual competence, and the picture starts to hum. It is what makes Ritchie’s best action tick: characters who are amused by danger and a bit smug about their own cleverness. These two know how to play that note.

González has a harder job of it. On paper, Rachel is the legal mind, the heart of the mission, and its catalyst, but the film is content to make her a concept. She is stylish and does enough, but she cannot cut through the thicket of exposition. She should be the sharpest blade in the drawer and instead comes across as someone mouthing words she is not sure of.

Pike and Bardem do not get much to do either. Pike has a way of making cold calculation pulse, but here she is stuck in boardroom-villain mode, which is a shame, though one assumes the check was good. Bardem is effective as a target, but Manny never becomes the kind of villain who gives the film an edge. He is well guarded and rich, but not especially memorable, given that the whole point is to take a powerful man apart.

As for the visuals, Ritchie and company have put down enough sun and expensive surfaces to keep things moving. The island has a polished vacation-nightmare quality, with any scenic spot turning into a potential kill zone. The stunts are readable and direct, with dirt bikes and armed men doing what they do.

Look at “The Ministry Of Ungentlemanly Warfare,” and you had a shaggy, violent pleasure that made you overlook the flaws. Or “The Covenant,” with its real heft. Even Ritchie’s weaker films tend to have an outrageous streak. Here, the old bite is there only in flashes. There is still fun in watching him put crooks, operators, and legal gremlins on screen; he is too good at making systems cinematic to let you forget it. But he does not make this one sing.

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Ultimately, you get an acceptable thriller with some sharp lines, two leads you like, and far too much scaffolding for what arrives in return. Not a disaster, but no sign of peak Ritchie either. It is, in a way, fitting that it ends up in the grey. [C+]

Mike DeAngelo

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Mike DeAngelo is a film writer, podcaster, and entertainment journalist whose work has appeared in Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, IndieWire, and beyond. He is the host of The Playlist's podcasts The Discourse and Bingeworthy.

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