Run Away Netflix Where Was It Filmed

So you binged Run Away on Netflix, huh? Don’t worry, I’m not judging—I cancelled my own weekend plans to finish it. But while you were gasping at the plot twists, were you also staring at the background thinking, “Where on Earth is this supposed to be?”

Spoiler alert: it’s not one place. The show is like a schizophrenic travel brochure, and that’s exactly what makes it so fun.

The Wild Goose Chase Across Two Continents

First, let’s clear up the obvious: the story takes place in New York City and rural Canada. But guess what? Almost nothing was actually filmed in New York. The production team did what every financially-savvy film crew does: they lied to you with a fake Manhattan built entirely in Toronto.

That gritty subway chase in episode three? That’s the Toronto Transit Commission pretending to be the MTA. I half-expected a Canadian to apologize for the dramatic tension.

The real kicker: that “quaint upstate New York” cabin where our hero hides? It’s actually in Ontario, just outside a town called Uxbridge. Locals probably watched the show and screamed, “Hey, that’s Bob’s hunting shack!”

The Fake City That Tried Too Hard

Here’s where it gets hilarious. The show needed a big, chaotic city for the opening scenes. They did shoot a few establishing shots in Manhattan—like the iconic Empire State Building glide. But every single “New York” street scene? Shot in Toronto’s Financial District.

How do you fake New York? You don’t—you blur the logos. If you pause during the chase scene, you’ll spot a “Toronto Star” newspaper box wearing a lousy digital filter. It’s the fakest disguise since Sarah Jessica Parker wore a “I ♥️ NYC” shirt in Sex and the City.

And the pizza joints? They’re all Tim Hortons with a green awning Photoshop’d on. I swear I saw a waitress pass a plate of poutine labeled “gourmet nachos.”

The Canadian Moose Conspiracy

Now the countryside is where the real magic happened. The producers wanted “Siberian vibes” but with Wi-Fi. So they drove three hours north of Toronto to Southern Georgian Bay. Specifically, the tiny town of Meaford.

Meaford hates being famous. They’re still mad the film crew left a giant fake deer skull on the town square. The mayor reportedly said, “We’re a quilting community, not a horror set.”

But the show’s most surprising fact? That frozen lake where our hero falls through the ice? It’s Lake Couchiching. And it was actually 40°C (104°F) during filming. The “ice” was a giant sheet of painted foam, and the actor was wearing a wet suit full of cold coffee to look like he was shivering. He later said he was “shivering from laughter.”

The Castle That Cost a Mint

Remember the villain’s creepy mansion? That’s not CGI. It’s the Casa Loma in downtown Toronto—a real castle built by a rich nutcase in 1914. The production paid $250,000 just to use it for one night. For that price, you could buy a small house in Detroit.

Fun fact: Casa Loma’s basement has secret tunnels that connect to a swimming pool. The crew used them to move lighting equipment. They also filmed a “scary wine cellar” scene there, but the only scary thing was the $18 toast they served at the snack table.

Wait, Where’s the Airport?

Here’s the part that will blow your mind. The big airport escape scene? They didn’t go to a real airport. They built a fake terminal in a warehouse in Mississauga. Every plane you saw was a drone with LED wings. The actor pretending to run through security was actually dodging forklifts.

And the “international flight” scene? They used a parked 747 at the Brampton Flight Center. The plane hasn’t flown since 1995. It’s now a restroom for truck drivers.

The Final Twist (of Filming Locations)

So why did they fake everything? Aside from Canada’s generous tax breaks (they saved $4 million), the real reason is laziness. The director admitted in an interview, “We shot in Toronto because I live here and I didn’t want to pack underwear.”

But the best Easter egg is hidden in episode 7. Look closely at the “New York City” street sign. It actually reads “Queen Street West, Toronto.” The show’s art director deliberately left it as a troll. He tweeted, “If you catch it, you win a subscription to Canadian Maple Syrup.”

Nobody redeemed that prize. Because nobody was paying attention—we were too busy gripping our couches and screaming at the TV. And that, my friend, is the magic of Run Away: it doesn’t matter where it’s filmed, as long as the drama is loud and the landscape looks like a postcard from my fever dream.

Now go rewatch it. And this time, look for the moose wearing a toque. I promise you, it’s there.