‘The Gorge’ Review: Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy Battle Distance, Mutants, and a Government Conspiracy in a Swoon-and-Scream Thriller

Apple’s new sci-fi action romance The Gorge arrives with little advance fanfare, but for many viewers who stumble upon it, the surprise may be part of its charm. The film combines an ambitious mix of genres—science fiction, military thriller, romance, monster horror, and conspiracy drama—into a singularly wild experience that feels both pulpy and sincere. While far from flawless, it delivers a rare kind of genre mash-up that manages to be both emotionally engaging and full of spectacle.

The first act of the film introduces its bold premise: two elite snipers, isolated on opposite sides of an enormous fog-shrouded gorge, are contracted to guard separate towers serving as humanity’s last line of defense against an unknown threat lurking below. It’s a setup as mythic as it is mysterious, immediately evoking imagery of fantasy battlements and eerie frontier outposts. The film initially struggles under the weight of its worldbuilding, relying on Sope Dirisu’s character to unload large blocks of exposition. These early moments almost drown in details about military corporations, secret operations, and past catastrophes, creating a rocky start.

But once the film moves past its information-dump-heavy setup, The Gorge finds its footing through an unexpected emotional thread: a slow-burn romance carried primarily through long-distance communication. The snipers, played by Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy, begin exchanging radio messages and written notes, slowly forming a connection despite never meeting face-to-face. Derrickson and screenwriter Zach Dean lean into a surprisingly soft tone—pop tracks like “Yeah Yeah” and even a reworked “Blitzkrieg Pop” appear in montages that wouldn’t feel out of place in a young adult drama.

While these songs and the dreamy early exchanges might sound saccharine, the performances give them weight. Teller brings a rugged vulnerability to his role, while Taylor-Joy delivers one of her most grounded and charismatic turns. Their chemistry sells the romance long before the story brings them together physically. It’s the kind of old-school cinematic pairing built on audience goodwill—two compelling leads whose connection feels genuine regardless of how fantastical the setting becomes.

Once the narrative shifts into the gorge itself, the tone pivots sharply. The romance gives way to horror as the characters venture into the depths of the fog-filled chasm, encountering monstrous creatures, mutated life forms, and unsettling remnants of human experiments. The production design shines here: the gorge is rendered with a dimensionality reminiscent of Stranger Things’ Upside Down, though shaped into a unique biome with its own geography and visual language. The CGI is generally strong, especially in creature sequences, and the action scenes are crisp and well-edited.

Still, the visuals can be inconsistent. Some scenes fall flat under muted lighting or overly familiar dystopian aesthetics, while others burst with striking, high-contrast compositions. This unevenness occasionally works against the tension, but Derrickson’s direction remains steady, ensuring the film rarely loses momentum.

As the story unfolds, The Gorge steps fully into sci-fi conspiracy territory. Teller and Taylor-Joy uncover a secret history involving a corrupt conglomerate, buried government truths, weaponized mutations, and the lingering scars of a nuclear-level cover-up. These revelations arrive with a familiar issue: over-explanation. Like many high-concept adventure films, the script sometimes risks pulling back the curtain too far, revealing logical gaps rather than deepening the mystery.

Yet Dean’s screenplay avoids collapsing under its own ambition during the final act. Instead of overwhelming audiences, the film carefully trims explanations to only what’s essential for emotional payoff. Even when the lore grows convoluted, the throughline between the two leads remains intact.

By the third act, the film transitions into a full-scale action thriller, blending explosive set pieces with desperate survival sequences as the characters attempt to outmaneuver the monstrous forces and the human villains controlling them. The stakes escalate without sacrificing character focus, and Derrickson deftly balances romance, dread, and spectacle.

What ultimately makes The Gorge stand out is not its sprawling mythology or its genre-blending ambition, but the grounding force of its central performances. Teller and Taylor-Joy elevate the material, giving the film the emotional weight it needs to hold together its wildest ideas. Their relationship is the anchor—tender, believable, and consistently engaging.

The film concludes on an unexpectedly hopeful note, opting for closure rather than a franchise tease. In an era packed with cliffhangers and serialized storytelling, the decision feels refreshing. It’s a reminder of the days when a standalone sci-fi romance could deliver thrills, emotion, and finality in one package.

The Gorge isn’t perfect, but it’s bold, entertaining, visually inventive, and anchored by two compelling leads. In today’s cinematic landscape, that combination is increasingly rare—and absolutely worthy of the attention it’s finally beginning to receive.