If you crash Liam Neeson and six disposable buddies in the frozen Alaskan wilderness, there is the expectation — nay, the requirement — that Neeson punch as many wolves as possible. Tape pocketknives and broken glass to your fists, improvise other weapons from the plane wreckage — just do what's necessary in the situation, OK? But this is not to be. Reuniting with his A-Team director, Joe Carnahan, Neeson is instead a melancholy Irish Catholic given to fits of poetry and religious doubt. He gently shepherds a dying passenger into the beyond. He provides sage advice to the motley survivors — worried by their knowledge of both Alive and Grizzly Man — as he attempts to lead them on a trek to safety. There's too much Jack London, and, as they systematically pick off the stragglers, too many CGI wolves go unpunched.