Directed By Scott McGehee and David Siegel

Starring – Naomi Watts, Bill Murray, Carla Gugino

The Plot – Novelist and creative writing teacher Iris (Watts) finds her comfortable, solitary New York life thrown into disarray after her closest friend and mentor (Murray) commits suicide and bequeaths his beloved Great Dane to her. The regal yet intractable beast, named Apollo, immediately creates problems for Iris, from furniture destruction to eviction notices, as well as more existential ones, his looming presence constantly reminding her of her friend’s choice to take his own life. Yet as Iris finds herself unexpectedly bonding to the animal, she begins to come to terms with her past, her lost friend, and her own creative inner life

Rated R for adult language including a sexual reference.

The Friend | Official Trailer | Bleecker Street

POSITIVES

Films pertaining to overwhelming grief are typically a slippery slope to watch, in terms of sappy melodrama and manipulative tactics meant to manufacture a feeling into the audience that superb writing should otherwise successfully attain, and while “The Friend” does feature the biggest tool of these tactics in a four-legged friend of the protagonist, McGehee and Siegel refuse to settle for the same desperate exploits that make so many animal dramas feel interchangeable, with a thickly thorough exploration not only on grief, but also the merits of legacy in the hands of those who have been left behind. Nothing about the duo’s filmmaking here feels shallow or exaggerated in the slightest, with meaningful interactions between pocketed dynamics of those survivors, which not only convey insight into the past of Murray’s mentor, who we receive so little time beside before he’s unceremoniously shipped off, but also an emerging dynamic between Iris and her new roommate, which helps to uncover more than a few compelling truths of their own in what each of them demands from the other. Iris is typically stoic and the supportive backbone for those in her life dealing with this unforeseen trauma, but in overlooking her own registration with grief and the immense loss of her friend, finds her seeking comfort and stability in the last remaining link to him, and as to where the first half of the film responsibly establishes that Apollo and all dogs alike grieve for the absence of their human counterparts, in the same way humans do, the second half uncovers that it was actually Apollo who was saving her, leading to an often rough and tumultuous exchange between them that proves how emotionally linked human and animals actually are, all the while never sacrificing the movie’s entertainment value as a result of its somberly stirring sentiment. McGehee and Siegel definitely utilize humor in the adjusting period of these sides, but they’re never executed for slapstick in the shapeshifting dimensions of the movie’s established tone, instead proving how far one would go to respect the wishes of their fallen friend, especially when those wishes overwhelm the tranquility of their peaceful life towards shifting directly upside down. Aside from this, I love what the script said about the outsider responses to grief, with its blink-and-you-might-miss-it subtleties among characters that all of us can relate to, at one point or another in our lives. Examples of these pertain to people at the workforce who quickly unload their condolences to the grieving parties, or bickering exes at a funeral, which each give the movie such a credible authenticity to the emotional responses and even immaturity of those involved, in order to point out the insensitivity of body language that most of us aren’t even aware of. It’s also clearly a bit of a love-letter to New York City for these creative forces, particularly in the documentation of the movie’s established setting, which makes it feel like a character of its own within the movie. Aside from some breathtaking scenic shots from cinematographer Giles Nuttgens really commanding a regality into the upper class posh of the brown block townhouses, the setting articulates the imbalances of animal sensitivity among its city organizations, where on one side there will be a part full of Great Dane’s interacting among each other, while Iris struggles to stay afloat in her claustrophobic apartment, with an overzealous landlord who constantly unloads an ultimatum towards her adoption. It’s the kind of firmly consciousness and social commentary that makes the movie feel like it could’ve been directed by Woody Allen during a more prominent time in the career of the master storyteller, offering a quietly meditative ambiance and levity to the movie’s imagery that surprisingly serves the aforementioned thematic heft of grief exponentially, without compromising it, or making the tone feel imbalanced or unknowingly bloated to the merited direction of McGehee and Siegel’s commanding treatment. This is most realized during one of the most creative sequences towards confronting grief that I have ever seen, in which Iris mentally brings her friend back to life to unload all of the anger and betrayal that she has towards him, and considering both of their characters are writers, it cleverly uses their objective as a way to therapeutically heal what is ailing Iris throughout the narrative, and between it and some meaningfully necessary overhead narration that grants us insight into the mind of the character that we otherwise wouldn’t get from her contained sentiments, it really establishes an irreplaceable value to Murray’s character, outlining what he meant to characters before we the audience ever had a chance to experience it in real-time. The movie is also a remarkable showcase for Naomi Watts, who hands in her best performance in years as the reeling Iris, who is left to pick up the pieces after losing the person who knew her best. Watts’ most impactful moments are definitely those of the third act, where she’s finally able to unload some of the psychological baggage and responsibility that have continuously been building like a volcanic eruption, and though most of the film pertains Iris to being the virtual punching bag of sorts to life’s continuous onslaught, Watts resiliency and command of the character are simply mesmerizing, and the film is all the more exceptional because of it. I also want to give praise to the dog commanding Apollo because he’s asked to do some truly remarkable feats in animal acting, especially in the depths of his wallowing eyes and defeated body language, which convey insight into struggling pain of grief, which is anything but limited to humans. Between the scenes where Apollo seemingly stares a hole through the hearts of the audience, while looking directly into the camera, and majestic movements that always command attention, he’s the very pulse and presence of the movie that always forces the audience to take note of his influence, giving us a performance that doesn’t have to be cute to be impactful.

NEGATIVES

In terms of issues with the film, the movie’s nearly two hour runtime does start to feel evident during the film’s closing ten minutes, where after an aforementioned therapeutic exercise in the mind of Iris, the film drags on an ending in resolution that definitely could’ve ended two scenes before it actually did. This isn’t to say that the closing moments to the film aren’t exactly satisfying, as Iris’ arc ends where I feel it should, especially in the movie being adapted from an original novel of the same name, however a late acting exercise to elicit some dramatic intensity feels like it materializes at a moment far too late in the closing motions of the film, and result is this prolonged sequencing that not only takes some of the air of momentum out of an otherwise perfect ending, but also the only excess baggage in the film that conveys a perfect cut line for this movie being at the 105-minute mark. In addition to this, the only other thing that I will mention in terms of conflicting takeaways is the framing device of this movie taking place directly after the untimely passing of Bill Murray’s character. While I think it does wonders to instill speculation in the minds of the audience, in order to debate why certain relationship dynamics are the way they are between his character’s exes, it offers very little impactful room for Murray to make the role truly memorable, especially with only a total combined time of maybe ten on-screen minutes that unfortunately limits his potential. If you’re watching this movie as a hardcore Bill Murray fanatic, you might be disappointed by how little time alongside him that you actually get in the finished product of the film, producing a thankless role that Murray definitely exerts himself throughout, but not necessarily something that challenges different dimensions or opportunities out of him in the same way that “Riff Raff” did, earlier this year.

OVERALL
“The Friend” is a grippingly earnest and authentically bittersweet drama about life, legacy and navigating grief that refuses to settle for any of the manipulating and melodramatic tactics of dog featured movies, instead opting for a meditatively evocative approach that proudly wears its heart on its sleeve within the therapeutic bond between human and animal. While the film runs a bit long and outstretched in its closing motions, the gravitational pull of Watts’ performance, as well as patiently uncovering storytelling allow it to stand successfully on four legs, unleashing a beautifully layered story about the power of companionship that is sweet without feeling syrupy.

My Grade: 8.2 or B+