TIFF 2024: The Wolves Always Come at Night (by Gabrielle Brady) | Review
Gabrielle Brady’s The Wolves Always Come at Night is one of TIFF’s finest films this year, showcasing the serene beauty of Mongolia’s rural landscape alongside the harsh reality of climate change, which demands our urgent attention.
You’re given a seat at the edge of the cozy mountains, surrounded by lush greenery and a cool breeze blowing over you. You’re served a cup of hot coffee to enjoy the sensation—taking in the exhilarating view of nature. Gradually, the wind grows stronger, the green turns yellow and wilts, and the chair begins to crumble. You leave this once-called paradise, seeking refuge in a safer place, hoping everything will return to normal in a few hours. But the damage is permanent, and the mountain peak is now an artifact.
TIFF Platform selection The Wolves Always Come at Night (Чоно үүр шөнөөр ирдэг), by Gabrielle Brady, introduces us to a heaven on earth in the Mongolian territory. Davaasuren Dagvasuren and Otgonzaya Dashzeveg, near Bayankhongor, are goat, sheep, and horse herders living in a peaceful, rural environment. Everything about the area exudes calm—a tranquil sanctuary providing a healing atmosphere. The air feels almost purer, and the environment wraps around you like a blanket, offering respite from the chaos of the world.
Davaa spends his days guarding and caring for his herds, treating them like family. As a trusted midwife for his animals, Davaa helps them during birthing, providing food and shelter. This routine is not only Davaa’s financial sustenance but also gives him a deep sense of purpose—a feeling of being truly blessed. Otgonzaya, his partner and most steadfast supporter, is often a silent pillar, contributing to their small-scale business, which is central to their family’s life. They’ve dedicated their lives to caring for these animals, and the harsh sun and sandy desert have never been obstacles; instead, they’ve become familiar allies.
Then, a sandstorm arrives without warning, signaling the beginning of the village’s undoing.
Director Gabrielle Brady, working as both writer and director alongside Davaasuren Dagvasuren and Otgonzaya Dashzeveg, has created a hybrid documentary that mixes fiction with the pressing issue of climate change—a global threat. In many ways, it parallels Alejandro Loayza Grisi’s Utama, echoing the urgency of Leonardo DiCaprio and Joaquin Phoenix’s climate change advocacy speeches that have become a backdrop to awards ceremonies. The love Davaa and Otgonzaya feel for their animals shines through their eyes, their compassionate hearts, and especially through the lullabies that form the daily soundtrack for their herds. These soothing melodies not only calm the animals but us as viewers as well.
As we witness their descent into despair, the atmosphere shifts, becoming a terrifying spectacle—a constant source of anxiety that never lets up. Cinematographer Michael Latham ensures that we see every heart-wrenching moment through the shifting landscapes and increasing devastation, capturing the unfolding misery without pause. The issue of urban migration looms large here, representing the only viable survival mechanism for many villagers in Mongolia. The depressing state of those who migrate, weighed down by homesickness, quickly erodes their peace, plunging them into a world of restlessness and turmoil, leaving a terrible void.
Gabrielle Brady demonstrates how hope can devolve into crisis, showing how life becomes tragic when passion is shattered and survival comes at the cost of mental health. Yet the screenplay beautifully encapsulates each emotion—from the laughter of Davaa, Otgonzaya, and their children, to the faith that gives them courage, to the slow-burning misery that eventually consumes them.
The Wolves Always Come at Night is perhaps one of TIFF’s most compelling new arrivals this year, presenting a gripping and thought-provoking reality that shakes us from our temporary comforts while calling for a humane transformation. The film declares that the wolves here are not the predatory carnivores, but the villainous force of climate change that brings destruction. It challenges us to reconsider: is the term “natural disaster” still fitting, or have we, as humans, brought the world to the edge of catastrophe ourselves?
The black stallion that once roamed freely with its master, the goats and sheep that waited for his hand, and the master himself, now staring at us with tear-filled eyes, all beg for an answer.
Explore our coverage of the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival here.
