Greenland 2 (2026) : Bigger Ice, Same Survival Road Trip

In a continuation of the story, the Garrity family, who survive a near-extinction level event when an interstellar comet hits Earth, must leave the safety of the Greenland bunker and embark on a perilous journey across the decimated frozen wasteland of Europe to find a new home.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8ieN10lX40

There’s a very specific pleasure in watching the end of the world from a comfortable chair with a bowl of beer nuts and zero responsibility for rebuilding civilization.

That’s the energy I brought into Greenland 2.

I love sci-fi. Especially dystopian sci-fi. Frozen wastelands, collapsed cities, ash in the sky, humanity hanging by a thread - I’m in. You give me doomsday spectacle and I will happily suspend disbelief like it’s a yoga class for logic.

And to its credit, this sequel delivers some serious eye candy.

The world looks great. The ice-blasted landscapes, the ruined Europe terrain, the scale of devastation - it’s all convincingly bleak. The special effects team absolutely showed up for work. If you’re watching this for visuals alone, you’re going to get your money’s worth. The ambiance and tone feel lived in. Cold. Harsh. Desperate.

But here’s the thing.

Once the spectacle settles, you realize something uncomfortable.

Haven’t we kind of… done this already?

The premise picks up with the Garrity family leaving the relative safety of their Greenland bunker and heading out across a decimated Europe to find a new home. Which, if you squint a little, feels structurally identical to the first movie - just with more frostbite.

It’s another long, dangerous trek. Another sequence of tense encounters. Another round of “we have to get to that place or we don’t survive.”

After the third or fourth survival scenario involving outrunning other desperate humans, I started thinking, Okay, I get it. This world is dangerous. You’ve made your point.

There’s tension, sure. But tension without escalation eventually starts feeling like repetition.

Now let’s talk about what works.

Gerard Butler carries this thing like he always does. He’s dependable in these roles - determined, intense, laser-focused on protecting his family. There’s no moral ambiguity tour happening here. He’s the dad. He’s the shield. He’s the engine moving the plot forward.

And he does it well.

Morena Baccarin is solid, but I kept waiting for the script to give her more. Same with Roman Griffin Davis as the son. This is supposedly ten years later - ten years of survival, trauma, adaptation. That’s fertile ground for character development.

There were opportunities here to explore how that kind of apocalypse reshapes people long-term. Instead, most of that depth stays at surface level.

And then there’s the supporting cast.

Or, as I like to call them: Cannon Fodder: The Ensemble Edition.

You can almost feel the script tagging certain characters with “disposable” written faintly across their foreheads. They exist to raise stakes briefly, then exit the board so the main trio can continue forward. It gets a little cheesy. When every new face feels like a countdown clock, the emotional investment starts thinning out.

That’s where the movie feels like it didn’t aim high enough.

The pacing itself isn’t bad. It moves steadily. It doesn’t drag. But it feels like it’s racing toward an endpoint instead of building a richer world along the way. This is a post-comet Earth. Civilization collapsed. Entire continents reshaped. There’s potential here for world-building that could fuel an entire franchise.

Instead, it feels like they took the safe sequel route.

Same formula. Same structure. Slightly bigger ice.

And yes - there are a few moments where suspension of disbelief stretches a little too far. Lifeboats with fuel five years after civilization collapsed? I admire the optimism of those storage tanks. Somewhere, a refinery is still quietly humming in cinematic heaven.

But here’s the part that complicates my frustration.

I didn’t hate it.

I actually enjoyed watching it.

The atmosphere works. The tension - even if repetitive - keeps you engaged. The visuals are strong enough that you forgive some of the thin storytelling. As a sci-fi disaster fan, I can’t pretend I wasn’t entertained.

It just didn’t elevate itself.

It achieved what it set out to do: show a family surviving against impossible odds because they stay together. That core theme lands. Family unity equals survival. Everyone else fractures and falls away. That’s consistent.

But I kept thinking how much bigger this could have been.

They could’ve slowed down production. Deepened the supporting characters. Built out factions. Expanded the geography. Turned this into a broader universe with spin-offs and intersecting survival stories. Instead, it feels like the bare minimum needed to justify a sequel.

Which is a shame, because the foundation is there.

Who should watch this?

Sci-fi fans. Disaster junkies. Anyone who loves watching frozen ruins and collapsed cities rendered with convincing scale. If you’re in it for spectacle and mood, you’ll have a good time.

If you’re looking for layered character arcs, bold new directions, or a sequel that reinvents the franchise… you might find yourself wanting more.

Me? Basement lights off. Beer nuts gone. Mildly satisfied. Mildly wishing it had swung harder.

Final Score: 6.8 / 10

Strong visuals and solid dystopian atmosphere carry the film, but repetitive structure and thin character development keep it from reaching the bigger franchise potential it hints at.