The Friend Review: A Study in Subtleet Powerful Performances

After the death of her friend Walter, Iris is thrust into caring for Apollo, a Great Dane of considerable size. Walter had been a beloved friend, mentor, and perhaps even something more to Iris during their time together. Now gone, Walter leaves behind a complicated legacy along with one final request: for Iris to take in Apollo, unable to care for the dog himself.

While Iris lives alone in New York and considers herself more of a cat person, she feels compelled to honor Walter’s wishes at least temporarily. What begins as an inconvenience soon reveals deeper layers as Iris comes to understand the bond between her and Apollo goes beyond any formal arrangement. Both are processing their feelings of loss and emptiness left from Walter’s absence in parallel ways.

Director Scott McGehee and David Siegel craft their adaptation of Sigrid Nunez’s novel into an insightful exploration of grief that taps into universal emotions. Naomi Watts gives a profoundly moving performance as Iris comes to terms with her past and finds solace in the most unexpected of companions. Supported by a talented cast, this is a quietly impactful story celebrating how connections with others, and even between species, can help carry us through difficult times.

Bonds Both Old and New

The story follows Iris in the aftermath of Walter’s passing. As a writer herself, she had studied under and grown close to the esteemed author for years. More than just mentee and mentor, the two shared an intimacy that left Iris reeling in the wake of his suicide.

We learn of their history through flashbacks showing a lively writer whose stories captivated all around him. Played vividly by Bill Murray, Walter becomes as much a presence in his absence through the impact he left on others. From three past marriages to a devoted circle of friends, it’s clear he touched many in his lifetime.

Now all that remains is the complexity of unraveling his final wishes. When his current wife Barbara asks Iris to take in Apollo, a gigantic Great Dane, she reluctantly accepts—if only temporarily. The challenges of caring for such a large dog in her tiny New York apartment are immense.

Naomi Watts brings nuanced gravity to Iris’s coping with immeasurable loss. Through her performance, we see a woman in stasis, avoiding facing the depths of her emotions. Her withdrawn nature contrasts with Apollo’s, an animal clearly grieving his person in parallel ways to Iris.

As other characters are introduced—former wives, daughters, other friends—we understand the web of connections in each life and how Walter’s impacted them all in ways both profound and problematic. Each has caring relationships with Iris as together they piece through the mystery of what led to Walter choosing to leave it all behind.

In the strange friendship that blossoms between Iris and Apollo, the film reveals profound insight into loneliness and finding understanding in the unlikeliest of others. Their bonding over shared sorrow and responsibility for one another subtly depicts hope that new bonds can form to carry us through even the deepest of struggles.

Subtle Moments Through Sound and Vision

Bringing Nunez’s richly internal novel to the screen required care and subtlety. Directors McGehee and Siegel rise to the challenge with a deft touch. Instead of heavy exposition, they rely on visuals and Nugetns’ cinematography to immerse us in Iris’ everyday routines.

Shot with clarity, giving even bustling city streets a tucked-away feel, we observe Iris’ world through intimate close-ups. Simple moments like spotting Apollo hanging his head out the window or catching a faraway look in Watts’ eyes resonate. This grounded lens helps externalize Iris’ internal process of grappling with loss.

Music is woven in with the same gentle hand. Legend’s “Everybody’s Talking'” swells over scenes of Iris walking Apollo, capturing wistfulness in a familiar tune. Its lyrics echo her complicated emotions. Other musical choices deepen feeling without melodrama.

Siegel and McGehee extract profound insights from the minute. Iris, finding herself startled by Walter’s untouched glasses parked in the cabinet, says volumes without words. Their direction finds the profound in the everyday and allows sensitive performers to bring these truths to emotional life.

Subtlety has the power to burrow deeply and linger long after. These filmmakers demonstrate how restrained techniques can tap rich emotional veins that flashy approaches miss. The care taken and depths reached through understated visual and aural storytelling leave lingering stays with the audience.

Bringing Complex Characters to Life

Central to the film’s success are its performances. Naomi Watts imbues Iris with quiet depth, conveying her suppressed sorrow through subtle expressions. We feel the conflict within as she resists relying on others yet craves connection to ease her pain. Watts allows us to see Iris’ journey in small choices that ultimately transform her.

Playing a pivotal yet rarely seen figure, Bill Murray makes Walter endearing despite flaws. His charming screen presence leaves an indelible mark, helping audiences understand what drew others to him. Through flashbacks just a few scenes long, Murray’s twinkle-eyed warmth grounds understanding of Iris’ loss.

Supporting cast brings richness. As Walter’s ex-wives, Carla Gugino, Constance Wu, and Noma Dumezweni deftly sketch layers with limited screen time. Each past relationship differed, but their care for Iris across divisions speaks volumes. Sarah Pidgeon brings earnestness as Walter’s daughter Val, a steadying presence for Iris as together they find solace.

Even brief moments land thanks to talented actors. Ann Dowd shines in a small neighborly role, conveying warmth with economical line delivery. Tom McCarthy handles his therapist scene with nuanced gravitas, helping Iris process complicated emotions. Their skilled performances amplify the film’s quiet power.

In the end, it’s Bing’s masterful work as Apollo that makes his humanity-canine bond with Iris profoundly moving. By giving fully to each scene through his natural sincerity, Bing lends the story deeper compassion than any script alone could provide. These artists brought “The Friend” to vibrant life.

Parallel Paths of Mourning

Grief permeates The Friend in quiet ways. Through subtle moments, we see Iris and Apollo each processing their sorrow in parallel fashion. As a writer grappling with blocked creativity, Iris bottles emotions instead of facing them.

Meanwhile, Apollo acts out his anguish through refusal to eat or engage. Over time, their shared sadness helps each recognize familiar pain in the other. Bonding over reading Walter’s words allows an outlet to unload burdened feelings.

As responsibility for Apollo’s care falls to Iris, she gradually acknowledges her role in caring for her own grief as well. Accepting that she now gives his life purpose parallels accepting she must feed her own soul. Through their bond, each begins nourishing the other, no longer despairing alone.

Siegel and McGehee ponder bigger questions too. Why did Walter leave Iris with a dog, much unlike her preferences? Maybe because he understood pets’ power to ease mourning best of all. Apollo helps Iris step past questions of blame to simply recall fondest memories of their time together instead.

By the film’s end, she comes to terms with never having complete answers for Walter’s suicide. All that’s left are cherished moments to sustain her, just as caring for another eases private anguish through focus outward. Their alliance in grieving teaches Iris life’s duties often arrive through unlikely sources but are gifts nonetheless when accepted with an open heart.

A Bond Beyond Expectations

On the surface, The Friend could seem like a fairly standard “dog adoption” story. But like many things in this thoughtful film, appearances prove misleading. What blossoms between Iris and Apollo is far more profound.

At first reserved strangers, due to circumstance, they evolve into something sustaining. As each navigates private sorrow in their own way, similarities between humans and hounds slowly emerge. Shared moments of quiet sadness, whether Apollo staring forlorn out the window or Iris lost in memory, reflect common grief in different skins.

Their bond deepens through small kindnesses as Apollo’s mood lifts being read favorite stories of Walter’s, and Iris finds solace mothering another in need. Scenes of her nursing Apollo’s wounds or the pair cocooned together exude comfort in intimacy, a poignant joy blazing through sadness. Critics clutched tissues witnessing such unconditional care between unlikely beings.

What transforms their arrangement from obligation to embrace transcends any plot device. In watching two souls lost to abandonment learn to lean once more, one appreciates how compassion knows no bounds. Their growing love teaches that when we make room in our own emptiness, others find a way to fill it in return. Some of cinema’s loveliest moments celebrate just that.

The Friend reminds us that in our shared capacities to mourn, connections may arise anywhere. Some of life’s sweetest gifts come wrapped in fur.

Finding Meaning in Memories

By its conclusion, The Friend quietly yet profoundly weighs the depths of loss and our constant dance with death. Siegel and McGehee craft not just a story of sorrow but an opportunity for reflection.

Watts brings nuanced truth to Iris’ mourning, showing how memories initially burden can transform into sustenance. Her empathy and vulnerability, paired with Bing’s raw sincerity as Apollo, stay long in the mind. Their bond illustrates solace found in lives intersecting at just the moment they’re needed most.

Viewers are left pondering life’s messy complexities of love and responsibility. Questions raised by those who opt to leave this world have no simple answers, though meaning remains in cherished moments shared. Fond recollections sustain us where logic fails.

For those seeking more than surface escapism, this film rewards with resonance. Subtle yet impactful, it celebrates how even in grief’s darkest hours, connection’s light still shines through the unlikeliest of others. Memories may weigh heavy, but together with caring souls, their burden lifts enough to glimpse beauty through the sorrow. Some films teach us how to keep going in a world that always will be passing on.