Greyhound

Greyhound is an intense, tension-fueled love letter to an unsung group of heroes of the second World War: the destroyers, and their captains, who shepherded cargo and troop transports from the United States and Canada to England through submarine infested waters.

The movie has an incredibly stripped down script. It is among the most minimalist pieces I have ever seen when it comes to its storytelling. It doesn’t fail to have all the traditional elements you need for an effective story: it has clear stakes, characters with motivating needs and desires, and a clear oppositional force that stands in between our protagonists and their goals. However, each of these is so lacking in flourish that they almost seem non-existent. It has the point A to point B plot simplicity of a film like Mad Max Fury Road while somehow being even more pared down and minimalist. And yet, somehow, it just works.

Greyhound’s simplicity can be a bit of a quandary. For those that value rich characters and flowery language, there is nothing really to hold on to here. The minimalist nature of the script leaves you feeling like you don’t know all that much about anyone in the film, from the captain down to his crew. You aren’t going to find a familiar character development arc in this film. However, the film also makes a strong case for that fact that you don’t need that to be compelling. It is a reminder that there are more than a handful of ways to tell an interesting story and they don’t all require character driven drama. The movie instead banks on other key elements to telling a good story.

The movie’s simplistic construction is its strength. The goal is simple: get through the north Atlantic waters with as few casualties as possible. The stakes are clear: not only is each human life on the journey at risk, but also the ability to supply the war effort in Europe, risking the lives of those already deployed there and fighting. The opposition is tangible: German submarines which lurk and stalk the convoy like wolves in a dark forest hunting their prey. The film then takes these simple pieces and turns them into something gripping by demonstrating a keen ability to show, not tell, and let the actions carry the bulk of the responsibility. There is this pervasive and powerful sense of tension that invests you quickly and effectively in the story, barebones as it is. The cat-and-mouse game between the submarines and the escort destroyers has a Children of Men type intensity where even the quieter moments don’t feel like a respite, but rather a prelude to the next flurry of action.

The movie is not entirely devoid of character, to be clear. The movie just uses small, subtle moments woven into the rest of the film to let little hints of character shine through. Most of what we learn is about the captain, but over the course of the film we learn that his is devoutly Christian, has mixed feelings about his role in killing others as it pertains to his faith, and feels a level of commitment and dedication to the responsibilities of his command that can border on obsessive. However, while these paint a more complex picture of a man, they aren’t really the point of the movie. The movie is, first and foremost, about the mission.

On the topic of details, the film also uses details to demonstrate the stress the mission is placing on the crew and captain; which, cinematically, offers another way to maintain that sense of tension and keep the audience aligned with that pressure. First off, the details of the naval command structure are, as far as this history buff is concerned, close enough to bang on. When you watch the movie you feel like you are right in the command tower as each piece of intel is communicated by the crew and each life-or-death command is issued by the top brass. While some might find the call and response nature of the dialogue repetitive, the realism of it had me feeling more immersed in the action, rather than less. Also, the rapidfire nature and staccato delivery of the commands creates this rhythm that reinforces the urgency of every decision and the pervasive tension that underlies them.

Secondly, the film has tons of small moments or recurring “mundane” things that help build this subconscious understanding of the unrelenting pressure the situation puts on those involved. The captain keeps getting his meals interrupted by reports of stalking u-boats or live contact with the enemy, to the point that we see him served meals a half dozen times throughout the movie but never take a single bite. We see as first his boots, and then his backup slippers, become caked in the blood of burst blisters from being on his feet, managing the fleet’s maneuvers, for so many hours in a row. Even the brief malfunctioning of the windshield wipers, temporarily stuck in the freezing weather, becomes a way to show how a minor disruption can be more than it seems, as the reduced visibility threatens to slow command response to potential attacks on the unarmed transport ships.

It is a shame that Greyhound’s original theatrical release was torpedoed, pardon the carefully selected pun, by COVID. Not just because this movie would be a riveting, edge of your seat, thrill ride on the big screen but also because its eventual sale to Apple meant not nearly as many people saw it, or even learned of its existence. This has the makings of a hall of famer in the niche of naval warfare movies. It’s just a shame so few people will get to see it.

Would Recommend: If you love movies about naval warfare.

Would Not Recommend: If you find men in large metal boats barking orders to be a turn off.