TIFF Review: “The Wolves Always Come at Night”

The Wolves Always Come at Night (Gabrielle Brady, 2024) 4 out of 5 stars

There are many causes for concern on our 21^st-century planet, foremost among them the increasing disruptions caused by climate change. Beyond the existential threats to the human race, there is the seemingly less consequential (on the surface, if not in reality) destruction of traditional ways of life. In The Wolves Always Come at Night, director Gabrielle Brady (Island of the Hungry Ghosts) examines what is happening in Mongolia as herders confront an uptick in dangerous weather patterns that force them out of the desert and into the cities. It’s a hybrid work, combining documentary footage with dramatizations and other fictional elements in one poignant cinematic tapestry.

Meet Davaa (Davaasuren) and Zaya (Otgonzaya), husband and wife and parents to four children. They live in the Gobi Desert and tend to herds of horses and goats, for which Davaa, especially, appears to have great love. Unfortunately, when a devastating sandstorm wipes out half their stock, they have no choice but to decamp for the capital, Ulaanbaatar, where they join other displaced families in a “ger district.” Gers are the traditional mobile dwellings of Mongolia (called “yurts” by the Russians).

The transition is an uneasy one, urban life not quite to their liking. Davaa takes a job in a quarry, excavating rocks, which further upsets him since it involves tearing apart untouched land. If the only way forward is to break with the past, what good can from the future? There is hope in dreams, however, and at night Davaa and Zaya reminisce about their lost animals. It’s the sale of his stallion that hurts Davaa the most.

Brady collaborated with Davaa and Zaya in the creation of the screenplay, so this is no Western ethnographic exploration of an ancient culture. Rather, The Wolves Always Come at Night—which takes its title from the fears that herders share everywhere about what predators might do when they sleep—is much more about the universal condition of our species as it struggles to adapt to sometimes sudden transformation.

There is a beautiful lyricism to the images, captured by cinematographer Michael Latham, who also shot Brady’s Island of the Hungry Ghosts, itself a visually stunning movie. Even when dust covers the landscape, the camera finds the perfect composition, though never at the expense of the emotional texture required. The strength of the film is in this gorgeously austere approach, as well as the respect with which it approaches the subject.

The elliptical nature of the narrative can sometimes frustrate, however, and the documentary aspects of the movie prove the more powerful half. Still, the net result is a heartfelt portrait of vibrant protagonists striving to do more than just get by. Perhaps they will return one day to the life they miss, or perhaps the recreation of their time in the desert that Brady allows them here is all they’ll get. At least, for now, their aspirations keep the wolves of despair away.

Christopher Llewellyn Reed

Christopher Llewellyn Reed is a film critic, filmmaker, and educator, as well as Film Festival Today's Editor. A member of both the Online Film Critics Society (OFCS) and the Washington DC Area Film Critics Association (WAFCA), and a Rotten Tomatoes-approved film critic, Chris is, in addition, lead film critic at Hammer to Nail and the author of Film Editing: Theory and Practice.