The Gorge

The Gorge, directed by Scott Derrickson, is a true cinematic experience, an exhilarating blend of genres that dares to be both an action-packed movie and a dazzling romance. At a time when streaming services are producing content that often seems more algorithmic than artistic, this release on Apple TV+ stands out as a bold experiment, a film that defies easy categorization and thrives because of it. Blending high-stakes military suspense, Lovecraftian horror, and a deeply felt love story, The Gorge is as thrilling as it is surprisingly tender. It's the kind of movie that, in another era, would have demanded a theatrical release - a visual and aural monster that deserves to be seen on the biggest screen possible. The fact that it's instead relegated to a streaming-only debut seems like a real injustice.

The Gorge is a movie about connection in isolation, a love story forged in the most inhospitable of conditions. The gorge itself is a gaping chasm, a place of horror and mystery, said to be a gateway to hell. On either side of this colossal crevasse are two fortified towers, occupied by snipers who have only one directive: to watch and make sure that whatever is hiding below never escapes. For Levi (Miles Teller), a former marine suffering from post-traumatic stress, this outpost is both a prison and a refuge, a place where he can exist without facing the ghosts of his past. For Drasa (Anya Taylor-Joy), a deadly Lithuanian killer who carries her own emotional wounds, the throat is an escape from a world that has brought her little solace. Neither is supposed to recognize the existence of the other. And yet, through furtive glances and handwritten notes held in front of rifle scopes, an unorthodox romance blossoms.

Scot Derrickson crafts his film with a keen understanding of how isolation breeds intimacy. The romance unfolds like in the movie You've Got Mail, except that instead of emails, Levi and Drasa exchange sniper challenges, musical dedications projected across the moat and jokes scribbled on notepads. There is something irresistibly charming about watching two highly trained killers flirt like teenagers in love, their chemistry bridging the physical divide between them. Milles Teller brings a quiet vulnerability to his character Levi, tempering his usual arrogant bravado with a sensitivity that makes his attraction to Drasa feel truly earned. Anya Taylor-Joy, as always, is magnetic and perfect, infusing her character Drasa with an intoxicating blend of sharp wit and raw emotional depth. Their relationship is the beating heart of the film, and when Levi finally devises a makeshift grappling hook to cross the gorge - because of course he does - it feels like the great romantic gesture of the year.

But just as The Gorge lulls us into the rhythms of an offbeat and distant love story, it abruptly shifts into full-throttle horror. The creatures that emerge from the depths are a nightmarish fusion of flesh and nature, tree-like zombies that glide and howl in a manner reminiscent of Annihilation and The Last of Us. Nicknamed the Hollow Men, these monstrosities are not only physical threats, but disturbing manifestations of the film's deeper themes: what it means to be consumed by duty, to lose oneself in the name of service. The action sequences are relentless, with Scott Derrickson proving once again that he knows how to direct visceral and thrilling horror. The result is an exhilarating, terrifying and totally immersive film.

What makes The Gorge so successful is the way it integrates these disparate tones. The film never gives the impression of trying to be everything at once; rather, it makes an organic transition, allowing each genre element to enhance the others. The romance is made more poignant by the horror, the horror is made more intense by the romance. Zach Dean's screenplay understands that spectacle alone is not enough, that the stakes only matter if we care about the people involved. And we do. We care deeply about Levi and Drasa, about their moments of joy stolen from the midst of chaos, about their unwavering commitment to each other even as the world around them descends into madness.

If The Gorge has a weakness, it's that its final act relies a little too much on exposition, explaining at length mysteries that might have been more effective if they had remained ambiguous. There is also the question of its classification, which sometimes prevents the full impact of its horror elements from being felt. But these are minor details in view of what the film accomplishes. The soundtrack by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is a lesson in atmosphere, shifting with ease from ethereal romance to nerve-shredding tension. Dan Laustsen's cinematography is equally impressive, bathing the gorge in a strange, supernatural glow that gives the impression of a place outside of time. And Sigourney Weaver, in the supporting role of Bartholomew, the enigmatic government supervisor, adds just the right amount of gravity and menace.

The Gorge's profound implications go far beyond its thrills and adrenaline. Beneath its appearance as a romantic horror film, it is also a reflection on loneliness and survival. Levi and Drasa's isolation reflects the emotional distances we often impose on ourselves; their desire for connection is a universal human struggle. Their relationship is not just a love story, but a lifeline, a reminder that even in the most desolate of places, companionship can bring warmth and meaning. The gorge itself becomes a metaphor for their inner demons, an abyss that threatens to consume them but also forces them to confront what they really want in life.

The Gorge is a film that thrives on contradictions. It's a love story wrapped in a horror movie, a war movie disguised as a science fiction thriller. It shouldn't work, and yet it does, spectacularly. It's the kind of movie that dares to be serious in an age of irony, that embraces both its romantic sincerity and its action-packed absurdity without apology. It is a big, bold and decidedly fun movie. And at a time when so many films seem afraid to take risks, The Gorge reminds us why we love cinema in the first place: to be carried away, to feel something, to believe in the impossible. Take the leap into the unknown.

The Gorge
Directed by Scott Derrickson
Written by Zach Dean
Produced by David Ellison, Dana Goldberg, Don Granger, Scott Derrickson, C. Robert Cargill, Sherryl Clark, Zach Dean, Adam Kolbrenner, Greg Goodman
Starring Miles Teller, Anya Taylor-Joy, Sigourney Weaver
Cinematography: Dan Laustsen
Edited by Frédéric Thoraval
Music by Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross
Production companies: Apple Studios, Skydance Media, Lit Entertainment Group, Crooked Highway
Distributed by Apple TV+
Release date: February 14, 2025 (United States, France)
Running time: 127 minutes

Seen on February 12, 2025 (screener press Apple TV+)

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